#fae-rao viszla

[shadestepping]

The Bad Batch: Trespass- “A Statistical Loss”, pt. 7

Word count: 2,282 Characters: Tech, Hunter, Echo, Fives, Reina Darr (original), Noei Darr (original), Fae-Rao Viszla (original) Date: Early-Mid 16 BBY Tech and Noei console Reina in their grief and promise to find a cure for their vision loss, while Fae-Rao deliberates over whether or not she should use the Force to speed along the process. Part 1: [ link ] -- Part 2: [ link ] -- Part 3: [ link ] -- Part 4: [ link ] -- Part 5: [ link ] -- Part 6: [ link ] -- Part 7: (you are here)

Archive Link: [ Ao3 ]

Their reaction to the prognosis was harder to endure than previously quantified with the data he possessed.

Despite his expectations, the one thing he couldn’t account for was the degree of emotional dysregulation from his concussion exacerbating his own response. He had seen grief like this in the eyes of displaced civilians and retired veterans, but he had never held it in his arms, never felt it deconstruct a soul as he did when Reina reached around his body with their good arm and clawed at the fabric over his back. Tension rippled through their shoulders, despondent sobbing rattled their chest, the mass expulsion of melancholic energy permeated to his very core… the true weight of it was inescapable. ‘Crushing’ turned out to be his greatest understatement in recent memory.

It was unclear how much time passed as he waited for them to speak again. Tech was too busy mentally cataloging every last micro-expression of their manifested grief, processing his emotional reactions, and filing the information away for future insight to pay it any mind; but he did notice when the shaking started to subside.

“How… how did… this happen?” Reina struggled to ask.

“Retinal detachment from mass deceleration,” he replied, calm and rehearsed.

Silence took them as they searched for reason in this explanation. “But… my retinas partially detached in the last crash… can’t that be repaired?”

Tech drew in a shaky breath and swallowed hard, his eyelids fluttered threateningly. “It could… if there wasn’t also damage to the macula.”

Reina’s brows crinkled. “What… what does that mean, I don’t-…”

“The macula is the part of the retina at the back of the eye, about five millimeters in diameter, responsible for processing central vision, color, and fine detail-“

“Tech…” Reina gently interrupted before he could get too carried away with defining, rather than explaining. “I appreciate your knowledge… but what does that mean?”

Tech exhaled a quiet puff through his nose. He was avoiding a direct answer and they knew it. He knew it. “It is… not something that can be fixed, dral kar’ta…” he admitted, tone dropping with the term of endearment he rarely used. “… at least, not with any known treatment. It is too small and too delicate to operate on.”

The tremors in their chest started up anew.

“Noei says the previous retinal detachment likely contributed to the extent of the damage this time. I am afraid, it was just bad luck… like everything else.”

The information didn’t help to slow their spiral; if anything, it made it worse. A low cry forced its way out of their lungs on a frequency that was uncomfortable to his ears. He cringed at the itch it triggered behind his eyes but tightened his grip and tucked his chin over the top of their head as their back curled forward. “I’m sorry Reina…” he whispered, throat quivering, stomach gnarled, and heart heavy with empathy. “I’m oh, so sorry…”

Tech jumped and turned halfway around as Doctor Darr burst into the room behind him moments later, anticipating the worst. Noei’s disheveled appearance greeted him with bruised, sleep-deprived eyes, unbrushed hair, freckles bleeding through smudged makeup, and clothes now three days old. Her blue-green gaze stared through him at her sister, as if she had been ripped from one nightmare and thrown into another. He’d been so fixated on his research he’d forgotten to check on her to make sure she was as okay as she’d seemed, so he hadn’t realized just how exhausted she was until she was standing five feet away from him. For a moment he was ashamed, because Doctor Darr was, after all, a good friend and confidante, regardless of his irritation with her.

Despite her emotional reservations for the last few days, hearing Reina’s cries unearthed instincts long-buried and set her back on auto-pilot. Noei wordlessly crossed the room and climbed up into the bed next to Reina, tucked Lula into the crook of their slung arm, and wedged a cold bottle of water into their right hand. Tech had had enough extensive academic talks with Noei in the past about how to care for psychological and emotional trauma to know that these were grounding techniques, but he hadn’t yet had the opportunity to put the practical application to use.

Without prompt, he fell into step with her efforts. Tech tapped Reina on the back of the head with two firm, two-fingered taps, and felt the trembling in their core weaken. This was a tactile reminder Noei had established to remind them to take pause and recalibrate their focus, that he and Reina had worked into their routines. They normally used it to alert each other when they were hyper-fixating and hadn’t eaten, slept, or taken a break in too long, but he was relieved to see it had the same effect when they were spiraling.

Reina clutched Lula tight against their chest and took in a deep, calming breath, while Noei counted out loud in sets: inhale for five, hold for seven, and exhale for eight. Each time they exhaled, their symptoms dissipated a little more. Tech felt the vibrations in their shoulders cease about five minutes later and loosened his hold on them once the sobbing subsided.

“Reina…?” he called in as soft a tone as he could, though they just burrowed further into his embrace, wishing to disappear. They still weren’t ready to continue the conversation. He repressed the anxious strain in his occipitals with a deep breath in and exhaled slow and even as Noei followed up.

“Reina, listen to me,” she coaxed in a motherly tone, one hand on her shoulder.

This time they lifted their head and turned halfway toward her, and Tech finally saw Noei’s composure crack. Her head dropped, her lip quivered, and the corners of her eyes wrinkled. Maker, how had he been so blind to her pain? She’d been struggling with her grief, same as he.

“There’s no way we’re going to let you lose your purpose to this.”

Every negative thought plaguing him for the last three days evaporated the moment the words left her mouth. Finally, they were on the same page.

“No,” he agreed, more emphatic than intended. “It does not matter how long it takes, we will find a solution.”

Reina’s grip on him relaxed, though when coupled with the question that followed, it felt more like disappointment. “How can you be so sure…?”

Tech paused before answering and lifted his gaze to look Noei in the eye. “Because, my dear,” he affirmed with a blooming, confident grin, “Your recovery is in the hands of the two most brilliant minds in the universe.”

Although she still doubted their ability to guarantee complete recovery, Noei returned his sentiment with a reserved smile and a determined nod.

“You will fly again- of that, I am certain.”

From the communications room three doors down, Hunter’s attention piqued. The two Night Watch rebels missed his brown eyes lift from the holo-table to focus with deliberate intent on what appeared to be a blank wall, but Echo knew better than to dismiss his tells. He’d heard something.

“What is it?”

Hunter set his jaw, sighed, and grunted a short reply. “Reina’s awake.”

Echo’s expression softened and he tossed a worried glance at Fae-Rao as she read between the lines of Hunter’s verbal and non-verbal cues.

“I take it Tech broke the news…?” she asked, even though she already knew the answer by the flattening of his tone and the tilted grimace in his cheek.

Hunter nodded crookedly, swiped around the data he’d been examining, and stowed it for the time being. “Yeah… and they’re not taking it well.”

“Understandably so,” Fae mused with quiet reservation, violet eyes staring unfocused before her. “I’ve been friends with Reina for four years- flying is their life. They’d rather die than hear that truth.”

“That’s a bit extreme,” Echo commented absently.

“You try telling a bird it will never fly again,” she huffed as she closed the data hologram and stepped away from the table. “Reina’s already had to fight tooth and nail to put themself back together once before- imagine how exhausted you would be to have to endure your trauma for a second time, and lose more of yourself than you already have…”

He let out a heavy-hearted sigh, then cast his gaze to the floor before circling back to the elephant in the room. “Have you given any further thought to my suggestion?”

The balosar inhaled and lowered a dejected gaze as she leaned over the back of his chair. “I don’t know if it can be done, Echo…” she answered truthfully after a pause. “As much as I want to be able to help my friend, I was never trained to be a healer, and I wouldn’t want to accidentally make things worse.”

“Well… t’be fair,” Fives chimed in from her right, “I don’think a total loss of sight could really ‘get any worse’.”

Fae shifted her gaze like a silent prayer. “Force, how I wish that were true...”

Fives tilted his head and furrowed his brows. “What do you mean?”

“The kind of precision needed to restore such a small part of the body requires intricate knowledge I do not possess,” she reasoned. “If I make even the slightest mistake, if or when Tech and Noei do find a solution… it could set back their recovery by months, years... maybe even indefinitely.”

Echo's gaze hardened, and Fae-Rao’s eyes fell shut with the weight of his screaming thoughts. She didn’t have to look him in the eye to know what he was thinking: “If it were me, I’d want that option.” Yes, she wanted to do her part to help, if possible, but she also did not want to bear the burden of responsibility if she failed spectacularly. It was selfish, but Reina was a dear friend, and she didn’t want to lose them to resentment.

“But… shouldn’t you at least try? I mean… isn’t it worth it to offer?”

Fae-Rao placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You know I’d heal everyone if I could, but that’s just not how the Force works. It’s not a mystical cure-all, and it takes special skill to wield with medical precision.”

Echo’s lips drew thin in grim understanding. His hand lifted and settled over hers and he turned to lean his forehead against her forearm.

“I know you empathize with their plight… and I want to help, but this makes me uncomfortable.”

“She’s right, Ech,” Hunter echoed in agreement. “You can’t ask someone t’perform surgery when they’re not a surgeon- Jedi or not.”

“Why don’t you leave the decision up to Reina?”

Fives’ neutral suggestion gave a much-needed pause to the weight of the conversation. Neither of them was inherently wrong in their logic. Echo was right- that to try and fail was better than to not try at all, but Fae-Rao’s discomfort was also valid and not to be discounted. However, the decision wasn’t theirs to make, and there was no point in fighting over whether or not they should when the question was if they could.

Neither objected to his reasoning. Echo seemed pleased with the compromise but Fae’s expression remained troubled. Echo had missed it, but Fives had been by her side long enough to know even the slightest nuance in her expressions and body language. She was deeply conflicted over this matter.

Hunter could sense that something was amiss. His eyes shifted between Commander Vizsla and Echo for a few moments before he moved away from the communication center toward the door, and tossed a casual order over his shoulder.

“We’ll take a break and reconvene at 21:00. Echo, with me- Crosshair and the Kryze girls’ll be back soon, an’they’ll need our help.”

Echo stood with a quiet “Sir” and glanced down at Fae-Rao as she took back her hand, crossed her arms, and averted his eyes. He flexed his jaw as he stared into the pattern of her silver fishbone braids, wounded by her sudden cold-shoulder, and sighed. “I’m sorry, I don’wanna pressure you,” he breathed. “Just… do what you think is right.”

Her composure wavered as he left the room, but Fives interjected before she broke. “Don’mind him…” he reassured, jerking a thumb in the direction of Echo and Hunter. “He trusts your judgment, even if he kin’ be a stubborn sheb.”

His teasing earned a quiet laugh as she relaxed, her expression somber. “I… would like some time to meditate with the Force, before I talk to Reina.”

“I’ll keep watch,” Fives nodded toward the door, but before he could step away, she caught his hand in hers. He froze at her touch and tossed a questioning glance over his shoulder.

“Would you, please… sit with me? It’s been so long since I’ve been able to commune with anyone-”

“Of course,” he replied before she could even finish. “Whatever you need, I’m at your service.”

dral kar'ta = "bright heart"

** Special thanks to @hazardous-studios for being my point of reference for the proper terminology and treatment of macula-off retinal detachment!

World-building

Commander Fae-Rao Viszla: Having left the Jedi order halfway through the Clone Wars, Fae-Rao returned to the fight at Ahsoka’s behest to assist in the Siege of Mandalore against Maul and the Crimson Dawn, and reclaimed her birthright as Tarre Viszla’s successor in name only.

Following the Imperial Reformation of Mandalore, the people of Mandalore divided in their loyalties- in opposition of Imperial Occupation, a Resistance of Freedom Fighters calling themselves The Night Watch emerged, hailing “Viszla Reborn” as their Champion. In response to her people’s outcry, Fae-Rao accepted her role as protector of a true, free Mandalore, and united the scattered rebels under one banner. For several years following the end of the Clone Wars, she led tactical strikes and rescue missions against the empire, saving the lives of millions of Mandalorians.

The Night Watch: The name for the Mandalorian Resistance against the Empire, after the Imperial Reformation of Mandalore, which consisted of Bo-Katan Kryze and her Night Owls, the Protectors, what would eventually become known as “the Clan”, and most of House Viszla. This Resistance was led by a former Jedi Padawan named Fae-Rao Viszla —the first Mandalorian to enter the order since Tarre Viszla— and was aided by a group of non-Mandalorians and clone deserters, who sympathized with the plight of Mandalore. Commander Reina Darr: former Combat Transport Pilot of the Republic Navy (before the Clone Wars) who was discharged after a bad crash in which they lost both of their legs from the thigh-down. After their discharge, Darr continued flying a modified light freighter known as the Trespass for a smuggling operation based out of the Coruscant lower levels, which specialized in relocating anyone trying to escape dangerous situations and start a new life. Following the Imperial Reformation of the Republic into the Galactic Empire, Darr and their crew fled Coruscant to base their operation out of Ord Mantell, but joined the Night Watch at the request of Fae-Rao. For a little over two years, Darr Commanded a small Airborne Fleet, running tactical strikes against the Empire and evacuating non-compliant Civilians off-planet to the care of the Protectors on the third moon of Concord Dawn.

[shadestepping]

The Bad Batch: Trespass- “A Statistical Loss”, pt. 6

Word count: 2,072 Characters: Tech, Crosshair, Hunter, Echo, Wrecker, Omega, Reina Darr (original), Noei Darr (original), Fae-Rao Viszla (original)

Date: Early-Mid 16 BBY

When faced with the reality that they may never fly again, Tech refuses to accept that healing is too far out of reach and sets his mind on finding a solution.

Part 1: [ link ] -- Part 2: [ link ] -- Part 3: [ link ] -- Part 4: [ link ] -- Part 5: [ link ] -- Part 6: (you are here) -- Part 7: [ link ]

Archive Link: [ Ao3 ]

It means they may never fly again.

Tech was never one to pass up information when offered, but after the heartbreaking revelation of Reina’s prognosis, he completely tuned out. Every muscle in his body gnarled, anxiety whispering and gnashing like rabid anoobas. This was the worst-case scenario- the only thing that could have possibly been worse than dying, was surviving a second disastrous crash and awakening to the reality that this time, no matter how strong their will to overcome, they would never be able to do the one thing that made them feel whole, ever again.

The situation was much more distressing to him than it was to Noei, and he quietly resented her for the way she communicated facts with such a lack of unease. Was that how he always sounded to his brothers? And how could she be so calm when he was a roiling storm of rage and regret?

His long fingers curled and dug into his thighs, nails snagging on the fabric of his blacks. Sure, Doctor Darr had plenty of experience with delivering bad news to patients, and she had already been through one life-altering accident with her sister, but it shouldn’t have left her immune to grief.

“Isn’t there anything that can be done to repair the damage?” he asked after half a minute of silence.

The good Doctor released a patient sigh and crossed her arms as she back-tracked to what she had just explained. “Once the macula is torn… no, there isn’t anything that can be done to restore vision in full. There are treatments that would help enhance central vision, but they’d still never be able to see with the clarity necessary to pilot a starship-”

“Could a scrip take care of the blurring?” he interrupted before she could finish explaining.

“Their vision will never be perfectly corrected Tech, the trauma is too severe-”

“What about bionics?”

Noei’s shoulders dropped, heavy with melancholy at the desperation seeping into his tone. “Reina would never let anyone near them with something they didn’t build themselves...”

“Bacta injections?”

“Miracle cure that it is, it is a very basic treatment and cannot knit something as delicate as the macula without a lot of time, which is something they simply don’t have. What you’re talking about is as difficult to accomplish as repairing damage to the spinal cord or the brain.”

“Nanodroids?”

“The technology for adapted medical use is limited and hasn’t been perfected for such a delicate operation…”

His eyes unfocused, his brow flattened, and he stared past her. The lines in his forehead deepened and the corners of his eyes crinkled in disbelief. Tech’s hands quivered and rubbed at the pain in his head as an uncomfortable weight pressed down on his chest and shoulders. The soreness in his ribs drew at the air in short chops. Tech’s emotions were usually so well-regulated this wouldn’t even register, but the physical trauma to his brain had left the floodgates unhinged, spilling into what was mostly uncharted territory to him.

After Wrecker’s accident, his brother had had some reservations about his scarring and discolored eye, but not to the extent of the average person. A few rotten regs had made snide comments about the accident, but by and large, the other clones admired him for how much more imposing the scars made him look. Hunter had even tattooed the same side of his face to help him feel less conspicuous. But, the scar was not a complete loss of sight, nor an impediment on his performance in the field. Tech knew what was coming when it was time to deliver the news to Reina, and he wasn’t ready to witness the emotional devastation of them losing their life’s purpose. It would crush him to see them cry.

Tech moved to sit down on the stool next to Reina’s bed, leaned over his knees on his elbows, and rubbed one hand over a fist in front of his mouth. His leg bounced like a jackhammer as he watched the rhythmic rise and fall of their chest. They had to have missed something, this just couldn’t be the final answer. It was unacceptable, and he would not allow it.

“Surely, we could make it work… right?” There was decisive confidence in his posture as his eyes snapped up to meet her gaze.

“… with time and dedication… perhaps,” she answered, careful not to make any promises they wouldn’t be able to keep.

“No,” he shook his head and looked back at the sleeping pilot, unsatisfied with her answer. “We will find a way. We must.”

“Tech…”

He tensed as Doctor Darr placed a soft hand on his shoulder, until she gave it a good squeeze. His head dropped and leaned against the edge of the bed with a strangled cry.

“They’ve been through enough, Noei…” he cracked through his tightly closing throat. “Maker’s sake…”

They can’t lose this too.

Waiting for Reina to wake up was its own unique brand of torture, even without the added dread of knowing how they’d react to finding out they’d never be able to fly again. For several hours after his conversation with Noei, he sat slumped over the edge of their bed with his head on his forearms, eyes shifting between the instruments and the bandage over Reina’s eyes, while decompressing the state of affairs. He wasn’t used to feeling this helpless… or angry, or scared, or guilty. That there wasn’t even a rational reason for the guilt, which bellowed back into anger and stoked each emotion in turn like a cyclone, until he could no longer sit still.

When next Noei came to check on Reina, Tech had set up a small work-station at the foot of their bed and thrown himself full-force into research on medical-grade nanotechnology and how to program the droids to target and repair injuries. Despite her best efforts to explain that there was time for him to give his mind a rest before diving into creating a solution, Tech declined her invitation to relax, insisting that every second mattered.

In the few days that followed, he hardly slept, and he rarely left their bedside. Any time spent sleeping, relaxing, or doing anything where he couldn’t also research was time wasted and it was impossible to convince him otherwise. Echo tried several times a day to coax him into putting down the holofile for long enough to take a shower or a ten-minute walk, but even his gentle teasing that he was starting to smell up the room only registered enough to elicit an auto-response of “Not now, I’m busy.” He was singularly focused on figuring out this riddle before Reina awoke.

Wrecker wasn't allowed in Noei’s lab as a house rule, but on the second day, while Tech was taking a power nap, he snuck in with Omega and tucked Lula under one of Reina’s arms. Tech woke to a blanket draped over his shoulders, a box of Mantell mix, and a bottle of Elba water on his workstation.

The only time he looked up from his work to pay any mind to his brothers was when Hunter stopped by to let him know that Fae-Rao would be along to pick up the data and wanted him there to brief her on further questions she may have. Tech tried to refuse, but Hunter insisted that it wasn’t a request; to her credit, Fae-Rao took one look at him as he entered the room and told him he didn’t need to be there. This upset Hunter because it was the first time they’d gotten him to leave the lab in two days, but she insisted on his behalf.

“That man is in turmoil and this is his way of reconciling trauma. Let him do what he needs to do.”

Crosshair passed by the room at least five times before he finally got tired of seeing him mope through his work, and leaned in the doorway for a brief chat on the third day.

“You know it wasn’t your fault,” he noted in his usual condescending tone, “So why are you so hell-bent on righting an impossible wrong?”

“Because, Crosshair,” he answered with a sideways flick of his eyes, “Flying is all they have left.”

Cross eyed him with a knowing smirk and shifted the toothpick in his mouth. “That’s not all she has left…”

“Mind their pronouns, vod.”

“Right, they…” he corrected with a snarky chuckle as he rolled his eyes. “That’s exactly what I mean.”

“I am only being considerate of how they wish to be perceived.”

“Yes, while they aren’t awake to speak up for themselves,” he noted with a pointed nod.

The implication of what he was saying went right over his head. “It is not hard to swap a plural noun for someone who views themself outside of a gender binary because they ask you to.”

“No,” He crossed his arms, shrugged, and hummed in agreement. “But maybe you’re in deeper than you thought.”

It took a few times of mentally coming back around to the remark and trying to figure out what exactly he'd meant for what he was saying to click. Tech bobbled the holopad in his hand and sputtered on his drink mid-sip when the dawning realization finally kicked him. He had become too attached for his motivations to be based purely out of concern for a colleague, maybe even too much of a friend. Reina was special to him in more ways than anticipated: as a war hero, as a fellow soldier, as his commanding officer, and as his favorite pilot- as an engineer, as a confidante, as his grounding stone, and as his friend.

But what of friendship… was it love? Or maybe familial attachment? Was he hyper-fixating on solving this problem because he couldn’t imagine flying without them? Or was it just because he was told it couldn’t be done?

He set down the holopad and leaned over the side of the bed, pushed up his goggles, and sighed heavily as he pushed his fingers into his aching eyes. Just what he needed, one more unfamiliar emotion to reconcile atop a mountain of others.

The chilling pins-and-needles sensation erupting from a tired hand on the back of his head shot through him like a lightning bolt and filled him with overwhelming relief. He knew their touch before he heard their voice, which was something he could not say of anyone else.

Hey stranger.

And it seemed the same could be said of him for them.

Tech sat up, clasped their hand between both of his, and pressed it to his forehead as hard as he could muster while swallowing a sob. “You’re awake… thank the maker, you’re finally awake…”

“How long have I been out?” they asked, turning their head in the direction of his voice.

He swallowed, smeared a tear out of his eye, and straightened up a little. “It has been three days since the crash. Everyone made it back alive, and the data was successfully delivered to the Night Watch.”

They squeezed his hand, softly at first, but with increasing urgency as he explained. “… have you been here the whole time?”

“Most of the time,” he admitted truthfully, “Hunter managed to drag me out for the meeting, but other than that…”

Reina forced a smile and chuckled under their breath. “I can tell… you smell awful.”

“So I’ve been told, but I wanted to be here when you awoke.”

The urgency in his voice didn’t go unnoticed, and they expressed a fearful look without making eye contact. “… how bad is it?”

His silence said all they needed to know. The way his hands shifted around and squeezed their hand and wrist as if to apologize confirmed their worst fear.

“No… no, no no, no, NO-“

For the first time since they’d met, Reina Darr fell to pieces, but they wouldn't do it alone. Tech stood to embrace them as they curled over their lap, one hand holding their face to his chest, the other wrapped around their shoulders as if to shield them from the world. He held them as they cried and screamed, each wave of grief cutting into him deeper than the last, and felt some small part of him die in sympathy.

He’d find a way to fix this, and no one and no thing would stop him.

** Special thanks to @hazardous-studios for being my point of reference for the proper terminology and treatment of macula-off retinal detachment!

World-building

The Night Watch: The name for the Mandalorian Resistance against the Empire, after the Imperial Reformation of Mandalore, which consisted of Bo-Katan Kryze and her Night Owls, the Protectors, what would eventually become known as “the Clan”, and most of House Viszla.

This Resistance was led by a former Jedi Padawan named Fae-Rao Viszla —the first Mandalorian to enter the order since Tarre Viszla— and was aided by a group of non-Mandalorians and clone deserters, who sympathized with the plight of Mandalore.

Commander Reina Darr: former Combat Transport Pilot of the Republic Navy (before the Clone Wars) who was discharged after a bad crash in which they lost both of their legs from the thigh-down. After their discharge, Darr continued flying a modified light freighter known as the Trespass for a smuggling operation based out of the Coruscant lower levels, which specialized in relocating anyone trying to escape dangerous situations and start a new life.

Following the Imperial Reformation of the Republic into the Galactic Empire, Darr and their crew fled Coruscant to base their operation out of Ord Mantell, but joined the Night Watch at the request of Fae-Rao. For a little over two years, Darr Commanded a small Airborne Fleet, running tactical strikes against the Empire and evacuating non-compliant Civilians off-planet to the care of the Protectors on the third moon of Concord Dawn.