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bedlamsbard · 5 years

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Some concept writing! This original concept for this one is something I’ve been tossing around from very early on (back in the day it would have been a Backbone ‘verse “five ways Hera met a family member early”), but never got around to writing until recently. This is Doriah-focused, so if you’ve been missing him after Backbone wrapped, well...here he is.

About 6.6K below the break. Please note that while I typically don’t warn, there is discussion of slavery and sexual assault in this concept.

“That girl’s going to leave,” Leoni said as Doriah came into antechamber where the count’s servants were preparing to carry out the next course.

Clady nodded in grim resignation, sympathy passing over her exquisite features as she filled a carafe with sparkling blue wine. “I’m surprised she hasn’t already.”

“What girl?” Doriah laid down the tray he was carrying and paused for an instant instead of going back into the kitchen, wondering what the other two slaves were talking about. Normally he would be waiting on the count, but in deference to his guests’ sensibilities the count was having his female slaves wait on the table.

“Servants” was actually the word used in polite company, but it wasn’t like no one in the household didn’t know the truth.

Clady turned towards him. She was a blue-skinned Twi’lek woman about a year older than he was, delicately beautiful as all the count’s slaves were. “One of those Imperial cadets he’s having to dinner is a Twi’lek girl,” she said.

Doriah winced. The count liked Twi’leks, which was why he owned several dozen of them. He was a bad drunk, too, and carafes of wine had been going steadily out into the dining room all evening. Doriah could guess what he had been saying to a Twi’lek woman at his dinner table, especially once he got drunk enough that he was no longer seeing the uniform, just her skin color (whatever it was) and her lekku. If she was unlucky enough to be seated next to him, he had probably been trying to feel her up too. Imperial or not, the poor girl didn’t deserve that.

“What’s a Twi’lek doing with the Imperials?” Doriah asked.

Both women shrugged.

All Doriah knew about the night’s entertainment was that the count was entertaining some ISB officer and a bunch of cadets from the ISB Academy on Naboo, around which the yacht had been in orbit since yesterday. Not that Doriah had seen anything of the planet, since he and all the count’s other slaves had been busy preparing for this dinner since they had arrived, on top of their other duties. They had done it for other academies before, since the count was a patron “to the future of the Empire,” as he put it, usually waving a wineglass around while other members of the nobility applauded him or Imperial officers looked sage and understanding.

They all looked up at the clatter of a chair being pushed back in a dining room. A woman’s voice said in unaccented Basic, “Excuse me, I need to – I need to use the refresher,” before retreating footsteps marked her departure. She sounded on the verge of tears.

There was laughter from the dining room, and Doriah winced. “I’ll go find her,” he said. The kitchen could do without him for a few minutes. In all likelihood, she wouldn’t want comfort from a stranger and a slave at that, but he’d been around the count for long enough not to leave any Twi’lek alone after his usual treatment.

Clady and Leoni both nodded, the same calculation going through their eyes. Doriah ducked out of the antechamber and down one of the lavishly appointed hallways, empty at the moment. He found the Twi’lek ISB cadet sitting on the futon in the antechamber to one of the yacht’s refreshers, crying into her hands. She was probably a tall woman, standing; from here all Doriah could see of her was her white ISB cadet’s uniform and matching flightcap, with wide white leather straps obscuring her lekku. He could tell that all of it was designed to draw the eye away from her inhumanity in an attempt to convince the observer that she was human, or at least the next thing to it.

“Excuse me,” he said in Basic, because if she was an Imperial there was no guarantee that she would know Twi’leki no matter what her species was. “Are you –”

She raised her head to stare at him, wide-eyed. She was green-skinned, the color an exact match to Doriah’s own, and she had the sharp, familiar features of a Syndulla clanswoman. For a moment his mind refused to accept what his eyes were seeing, then he hit the control to shut and lock the door behind him and crossed the small room in a few quick strides. His cousin Hera stumbled to her feet and then into his arms, clinging to him with desperate strength.

“Doriah –” she gasped.

Doriah released her, but only so that he could cup her face between his palms, staring at her. Hera’s eyes were red-rimmed from crying, but he couldn’t see any scars or other signs of violence on her, no indication of what had happened to her in the past four years. Or the past four minutes, for that matter, he knew what the count was like.

“Are you all right?” he asked her swiftly.

She nodded, biting her lip. “Are you – are – Ojeda and Nury and the others, are they –”

“Xiaan’s here. None of the others.”

Her eyes widened. He could see realization pass across her face in an instant, the understanding that no matter what the count had said to her, an Imperial officer and a guest on his ship, it must be much worse for the members of his household. “Xiaan’s a baby,” she said, shocked.

“She’s ten,” Doriah said.

“What do you need me to do?” Hera said without hesitation. Then she glanced around the room, clearly searching for cameras.

Doriah shook his head and said, “The count doesn’t have surveillance. It’s fine.” He put an arm around Hera’s shoulders again and drew her against himself, grateful to see her here and safe. Well, not to see her here, but – “I need you to get Xiaan out of here.”

“Both of you,” Hera said. She bit her lip again, thinking. “I can put you in the cargo hold of the shuttle we brought. It’s empty right now.”

“Won’t the pilot notice?”

“I’m the pilot.” She smiled a little. “They usually have cadets pilot on these sorts of things, and if I’m flying it means the others can drink all they want. And I wasn’t going to drink anyway.”

“Probably a good idea with that crowd,” Doriah said dryly. “Are you going to go back there?”

She shook her head. “And get asked how many of the cadets have seen me naked and if they think I’m a good lay? Or if I got invited to this because I got my grades on my back? No thanks.”

Doriah winced and she flushed, looking away.

“I didn’t,” she added, her voice small. “The only person who’s seen me naked isn’t even an Imperial.”

He shot her a startled glance and she flushed again.

“Listen,” Doriah said, deciding that under the circumstances it wasn’t his business to touch any of that, “you go back to your ship. I doubt anyone in that room is really going to care if you go back to dinner or not. Xiaan and I will bring you something to eat from the kitchen, and – you can’t just steal the ship, can you? If it’s a Lambda it’s got a hyperdrive.”

Hera shook her head. “Lambdas are too slow. I – I know someone in Theed who can help you.”

“Us.”

She didn’t touch that. “Are you all right?” she asked him. “Can I –”

“Just get us out of here.” He didn’t like the idea of leaving anyone on the ship behind, but he didn’t want Xiaan to be here another day.

Doriah pressed a kiss to Hera’s forehead, beneath the white brim of her flightcap. “I’ll get Xiaan. Just go back to your ship, and I’ll see you soon.”

Hera nodded. She hugged him again, then released him and stepped back. This close, Doriah could see a man’s wine-stained handprint marring the thigh of her white uniform slacks and could guess why she had left the room in tears.

He smiled encouragingly at her, then found the door control. As it slid open, Hera drew herself upright, wiping a hand over her eyes to clear away the last of her tears, and settled easily and naturally into the role she wore – into the uniform she was wearing. Green skin and lekku or not, Hera looked like an Imperial officer, enough so that Doriah felt a chill go down his spine.

He licked suddenly dry lips and repeated, “I’ll see you soon,” before he ducked back out into the hallway and headed towards the kitchens.

The evening’s entertainments had progressed to the point where the count and his guests were all too drunk to notice if things were going out exactly on time and most of the staff had taken the opportunity to move more slowly than they had a few hours ago. Doriah collected Xiaan from where she was arranging and rearranging fruit in perfect geometric spirals that no one out there would notice or appreciate, then found a tray and began pilfering the remains of dinner that had either come back or not been sent out because it was slightly less than perfect. He was guessing that Hera hadn’t had much appetite during the actual meal.

“One of the count’s guests went back to their ship,” he explained in response to the questioning look he got from one of the kitchen staff. “Twi’lek girl, and the only woman there.”

“They let Twi’leks be Imperials?” the cook said doubtfully.

Doriah shrugged in response.

“You sure she’s not someone’s mistress?”

“I think she probably wouldn’t have minded getting felt up, then,” Doriah said dryly, adding another plate to the tray. “I’m going to go sit with her. I might not be back for a while.”

The cook shrugged back at him, but because she was from Ryloth too she added thoughtfully, “Friend of yours?”

“Clanswoman,” Doriah said truthfully.

Xiaan looked up sharply. She had piled up a plate with cakes and other sweets, perhaps correctly assuming that some of the food would be for them as well as for Hera.

“Tell us whatever you find out,” the cook said, and then went back to haranguing the staff.

Doriah took the plate with the cakes from Xiaan and added it to the overstuffed tray, then covered it all. He and Xiaan left the noisy, familiar warmth of the kitchen for the cool quiet of the empty hallways. They had been walking for only a few minutes when Xiaan said in her soft, nervous voice, “Did she get hurt? Is that why she left?”

“No, she wasn’t hurt,” Doriah said, knowing what she was really asking. The count could do whatever he wanted with his own household, but no matter how drunk they were, Imperial officers wouldn’t allow a nobleman to rape one of their confederates in front of them. At least Doriah thought so. Hera had left before things had gotten to that point, at least.

The yacht’s hangar bay was small, but hosted the count’s expensive speeders and his sleek racing ship. Next to them, the Imperial Lambda shuttle parked there seemed large and ungainly, taking up too much space. Hera was seated on the lowered ramp, her legs drawn up and her chin resting on top of her knees. She glanced up warily as they came in, then stood.

Xiaan stopped dead, uncertain, then gasped, “Hera!” and ran forwards to her.

Hera caught her in an embrace, bending her head to Xiaan’s. Xiaan was hanging onto her desperately, repeating, “Hera, Hera, Hera,” like a prayer. Doriah came up to join them, handling the heavy tray carefully so that he didn’t drop it before he set it down at the top of the ship’s ramp. Then he went to hug Hera and Xiaan both, feeling relief relax his shoulders. It was good to have them both here, even if they were still on the count’s ship and not home free yet.

They stood like that for a few moments, until Xiaan disentangled herself and announced, “We brought food.”

Hera glanced at the tray. “I thought you were just saying that.”

“I figured you probably didn’t have much appetite at dinner,” Doriah said. “And the food actually is pretty good.”

“And there’s cake,” Xiaan said.

“And there’s cake,” Doriah agreed.

Hera smiled. “I guess I know which part you’re most interested in.”

They sat down on the ramp to demolish the meal. Hera admitted that she had barely touched any of the food at the dinner and had been planning to eat afterwards, since she had the rest of the night and the next day off from the Academy. She blushed when she said it, so Doriah was guessing that whatever her plans had been, they included the apparently non-Imperial who had seen her naked. He decided not to think about it unless it became relevant, since Hera had apparently had an entirely different time of it than he had.

He and Hera both kept one eye on the hangar doors as they ate, wary of the other Imperials coming back or other slaves coming to see what was taking Doriah and Xiaan so long. The latter was unlikely, since most people probably assumed that the Imperial cadet who had left the party only wanted a little private entertainment from a handsome male of her own species. Doriah had done that before.

When they had finished, Doriah went and hid the tray and plates in one of the count’s speeders while Hera ducked back inside the Lambda to slice the internal cams. When he came back, Hera had panels from the flooring of the ship up, revealing an empty storage compartment. Doriah stopped her with a hand on her elbow and said quietly, “Aren’t you flying back to the Imperial Complex?”

She shook her head. “I’m docking in one of the Bureau’s hangars in the city. There’s only speeder docking in the ISB Complex and just space for one or two ships, so most of our ships are in other hangars. And the boys are probably going to want to go out afterwards, so they’ll want to be in the city.”

Doriah would have climbed in even if she was flying straight to the Imperial Palace on Coruscant, so he just nodded and slung an arm around Xiaan’s waist to lift her down. He climbed down after her, and Hera slid the flooring back into place above their heads, shutting them away into darkness. Xiaan shivered a little and curled herself into the curve of Doriah’s arm as he sat down, listening to the floor creak above them as Hera walked by. Neither of them spoke, just sat there and waited.

The rest of the Imperials came back after what Doriah thought was probably an hour, spilling into the hangar bay and up the ramp of the ship. He heard Hera say disgustedly, “Are you all drunk?”

“Maybe if you’d been drinking a little, Syndulla –”

“Well, I could have used it as an excuse to fly into the side of a moon, put us all out of your misery,” she snapped back.

“Oh, come on, Syndulla, it was a joke, you don’t know how to take a joke – come down here and give us a kiss, why don’t you?”

“I would rather be dead.”

“It’s not like everyone doesn’t know you’re fucking that cage-fighter down in Riverside, I don’t know why you pretend you have a problem with human men when –”

There was a sharp metallic clang as Hera slammed the cockpit hatch shut. Laughter followed from the cadets as they strapped themselves into their seats, along with comments that made Doriah wince. Xiaan was trembling in his arms, her fingers folded into the front of his shirt. Doriah stroked a hand down her back, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

He felt the ship’s engines rumble to life, seemingly all around them in the cockpit, then it lifted up off the deck so calmly Doriah was barely aware of it. Even in their current circumstances Doriah still had to appreciate Hera’s skill as a pilot; it was a smooth takeoff and the flight was calm and unhurried. Doriah was painfully aware of the Imperials overhead – still strapped into their jump seats since it was such a short flight, but laughing the whole time, sharing stories about escapades with Clady and Leoni and a few of the count’s other slave girls, and more snide comments about Hera’s lack of participation. Xiaan tucked her face against his shoulder and Doriah held onto her tightly, glad for once that she had learned to be so painfully, awfully quiet.

Their touchdown was as smooth as their landing. Doriah felt only a slight bump as the Lambda reached the ground, then the Imperials above were unstrapping themselves from their seats. One of them called an invitation up to Hera and she snapped back, “I wouldn’t fuck you if my life depended on it.”

“You never know, Syndulla, next time we’re in the field –”

“Like you’ve ever been in the field outside of training,” she sneered back. “Get away from me.”

“Oh, come on, Syndulla, we all know that you’re going to go get laid after this. You think you’re too good for us, but you’ll spread your legs for –”

“Get out!” Hera snarled.

There was more laughter. Eventually the cadets left, and Hera slammed the hatch shut after them. Doriah heard her walk back and forth across the deck above them a few times, her strides long and furious, then after about five minutes she opened the hatch again and stepped out. When she returned, there was something with her, rolling across the deck – an astromech droid. A few minutes after that, she lifted away the slats above them, her face thin and worried as Doriah blinked in the sudden light.

“I had to disable the internal cams again,” she said. “And the hangar cams. Chopper has them on a loop for now.”

“Chopper? I thought he’d be scrap by now.” Doriah lifted Xiaan up to her, then hoisted himself up out of the hold. Sure enough, the old C1 astromech unit Hera had rescued and restored all those years ago was there on the deck beside Hera, orange paint, mismatched ambulatory strut, and all.

“It’s a long story,” Hera said. She flushed as Doriah looked at her, presumably aware that he had heard what the other cadets were saying about her.

“Are you all right?” he asked her.

“It’s fine,” she said, looking away. “I’ve heard it all before. Some of them were there the last time Kanan had a fight, and they saw me with him. It was a secret before then.”

“It’s him we’re going to go see?” Doriah asked her. He didn’t like the idea of Hera with a human man, but it wasn’t any of his business, either.

She nodded. “He’s not an Imperial – he doesn’t like the Empire at all. And he knows people. He has friends in the enclave.”

“There’s an enclave here?” Of course there was an enclave here. There were Twi’leks everywhere. Doriah wasn’t sure why he was surprised.

Hera nodded, her gaze turned aside and her shoulders tense, like she was waiting for him to ask why she hadn’t gone there instead of staying with the Empire. If she had, though, she wouldn’t be here right now and Doriah and Xiaan would still be up on the count’s yacht, so he couldn’t resent it too much.

Hera stripped off her uniform jacket and folded it so that the Imperial insignia didn’t show. She still looked like she was wearing a uniform, but at night it wasn’t distinguishable as an ISB officer’s uniform. She tucked it under her arm as they left the hangar, Doriah glancing warily around. There was no one in sight, though, either human or droid. Chopper followed them out with a quizzical warble directed at Hera.

“Yes, you can come,” she said, glancing down at him. “But you’re not spending the night in Kanan’s room.”

He grumbled in response, and Doriah resisted the urge to grin. He guessed the droid was a damper on any amatory activities.

They didn’t garner any second looks on the way over to the cantina where Hera’s boyfriend was apparently living at the moment. It took them into a neighborhood that Doriah could tell at a glance was primarily non-human; he saw Twi’leks, Togruta, Gungans, Nautolans, Rodians, and a few other less common species in the street, along with a scattering of humans who looked like they would be thrown out of any more respectable neighborhood. Hera went into a cantina whose open door was spilling bright light and sound out into the street, her shoulders relaxing as she left the street. Doriah followed her, tucking Xiaan close against his side as she flinched away from the sound.

Hera went up to the bar without hesitating, heading for a tall human male seated on a stool at the end. He glanced up as she approached, then slid off the stool and put an arm around her waist, pressing a kiss to her mouth as she turned her face up to him. She was practically glowing with delight, completely different than she had been with the ISB cadets.

“Hey,” the human said. His gaze went briefly to the stain on her thigh, his mouth tightening, but all he asked was, “Was it awful?”

“It was awful,” Hera agreed. She kissed him again, quickly, then stepped back. The human’s eyebrows went up as he saw Doriah and Xiaan behind her. “I need your help,” Hera went on. “Well – I think I need Tlarit’s help, actually.”

“Oh, I see why you’re really here,” the human teased. To Doriah, he said in Twi’leki, “I’m Kanan.”

“Doriah Syndulla,” Doriah said, with a little bit of a shock at using his surname for the first time in years. “This is Xiaan Syndulla Tann Syndulla.”

She raised her gaze shyly towards the human and said, “Hi.”

“Hi,” Kanan said, his voice warm and genuine. He didn’t try to touch her or even smile, as if sensing that that would make her even more frightened, just looked back at Hera and said in the same language, “You can take them up to my room. I’ll go find Tlarit, I think she’s here tonight. There’s cake up there too,” he added as an afterthought. “I didn’t think you’d eat much at that thing.”

“You’re sweet,” Hera said. She kissed him again, then stepped back, flushing a little as she looked at Doriah. “It’s this way.”

Bemused, Doriah followed her through the crowd towards the back stairs. Hera led him up to the second floor, then turned down a hallway lined with numbered doors. She stopped at the one on the end, pressing her hand to the control. She glanced in as it slid open, then stepped back to let Doriah and Xiaan in ahead of her.

“He’s really a cage fighter?” Doriah said, after the door closed behind her. Kanan didn’t fit his mental image of it.

“Only when he needs to make money fast,” Hera said. “He works down at the docks mostly – does some smuggling, too.” She looked up at him, blushing furiously. “He’s been wanting me to leave with him,” she added. “To go off-planet. Desert.”

“I can’t argue with that.”

Hera bit her lip.

Xiaan was poking curiously around the small room. As Kanan had said, there was a covered plate on the table, along with a bottle of wine and two glasses. Hera dumped her folded up jacket on a chair and rubbed her hands over her face, suddenly looking weary.

“Who is this person you asked him to find?” Doriah asked him.

“Tlarit. I don’t know her clan name, but she’s another Twi’lek – from Ryloth originally, most of the Twi’leks in the enclave aren’t. She’s…got some connections,” Hera added awkwardly, and looked away.

“Which you never used to get offworld?”

“It’s a long story,” Hera said, not meeting his eyes. She went to uncover the cake, smiling briefly as she did so. “Do you want some? Xiaan?”

Doriah had had enough cake on the count’s yacht and said as much, but Xiaan, who knew better than to refuse food, took a slice and sat down to eat it solemnly. She was almost done with it when there was a light knock on the door, then it slid open, admitting Kanan and a small, purple-skinned Twi’lek woman with generous curves.

“Hera!” she said, sounding pleased to see her, then her gaze went to Doriah and Xiaan and her eyes widened in recognition. “Oh –”

Kanan shut the door carefully behind them and put his back to it, apparently unbothered by the fact that he was the only human in the room.

“You told me once that you had connections in the fleet,” Hera said awkwardly. “You said –”

“You used to date my mother, didn’t you?” Doriah said to Tlarit. “Clotho Syndulla?”

Hera’s face went blank.

Tlarit’s gaze went to his face, then to the caste markings on Xiaan’s lekku, then returned to his face before she looked at Hera again, studying the similarities between them. “Hera – Syndulla?” she said disbelievingly.

Hera’s cheeks went dark, but she pulled the collar of her shirt aside to reveal the caste markings on her shoulders and upper arms. “Yes,” she said. “My name is Syndulla.”

Tlarit shot a betrayed look at Kanan, who bit his lip. “You never said.”

“It wasn’t mine to say.”

“Clotho is going to kill me,” Tlarit said. “It’s been months.”

“I’ll deal with my mother,” Doriah said, barely able to believe he was actually saying the words. “Assuming we all live to see her again.”

“I didn’t know you knew my aunt,” Hera said, her voice small. “It’s not like you said.”

“My clan is Syndulla,” Tlarit said. “It’s not exactly something I advertise on this world.”

Hera closed her eyes. She took a step sideways and Kanan went over to her, wrapping her in his arms as she turned her face against his chest.

“Well,” Doriah said, “can you contact my mother?”

“Yes,” Tlarit said. “My comm equipment is in my room. I – can you come with me?”

“I won’t,” Hera said, small-voiced, the sound muffled by Kanan’s shirt. “I don’t want to talk to my father. Or my mother.”

From the expression on Tlarit’s face, Doriah guessed that that wasn’t going to be an option for much longer, but it was nice that Hera thought she had it now. He nodded, glancing at Xiaan, who stood up without being asked and put her hand in his.

“Are any of the others –” Tlarit began.

“It’s just us,” Xiaan said, and Tlarit let her breath out, looking dismayed but not surprised.

“Hera, don’t you dare make a run for it,” she said.

Hera didn’t say anything, just stood still with her arms around her lover, not looking at any of them. Doriah hesitated, disturbed by her rapid turn in mood, but didn’t know what to say to her.

He and Xiaan followed Tlarit out into the hallway, the door sliding shut behind them. Tlarit said, “I do have to ask if there’s anyone coming here after you.”

Doriah thought about it. “Does the ISB know that Hera’s man lives here?”

“Why would the ISB care about Hera?” Tlarit said blankly. “Aside from her being the Syndulla’s daughter, I mean.”

Doriah stared at her. “She’s an ISB cadet.”

Tlarit stopped dead. “She’s what?” she said, her voice blank with shock. “But she’s –” Her eyes narrowed an instant later, apparently putting two and two together, whatever she had seen of Hera since she had been coming here. “I suppose that makes sense,” she said eventually. “Except for the part where Kanan hates the Empire.”

She took a breath, then started walking again, “You get ISB cadets and other officers down in this neighborhood sometimes – they’ll come for the fights if they feel like slumming – but not usually in this cantina. There are better places to get a drink and there aren’t dancers or fights here. Is there anyone coming after you?”

“Probably,” Doriah said reluctantly.

“I’ll take you to the enclave after we’re finished here, then,” Tlarit said. “This isn’t the first time we’ve done something like this, and most humans can’t tell one Twi’lek from another even if we’re color-coded.” She arched a brow in amusement as Xiaan giggled.

They stopped in front of another door, identical to Kanan’s except for the number on it, and waited as Tlarit unlocked it. The room inside was warm and comfortable, with brightly-colored hangings on the walls and bed. It could have been any bedroom on Ryloth, and the realization made Doriah’s throat close. Tlarit shot him a sympathetic look and Doriah bit his lip, embarrassed for a moment that he had shown that much reaction.

As Tlarit went to go uncover her holoprojector, which was good quality – better than Doriah had expected – and angled towards the bed, Doriah said awkwardly, “You’ve known Hera and her – and her friend for a while now?”

Tlarit looked back at him, considering. “Since Hera started coming around to see Kanan, about six months ago.” She hesitated, then added, “I’ve never seen her with her lekku or her arms uncovered. I didn’t know she had caste markings.”

Xiaan touched a hand to her own lekku self-consciously. Doriah resisted the urge to smile; like Tlarit, his lekku were bare, a sign that they were both from Ryloth’s plebeian caste. Xiaan’s and Hera’s decorated lekku – and Hera’s shoulders, upper arms, and, if he remembered correctly, the small of her back – indicated that they were curiates, the highest caste on Ryloth. Curiate women got more markings the older they got, part of their own journey to adulthood. Men too, but theirs were fewer and less complex than women’s.

“That’s not what I wanted to ask,” Doriah said. “She’s – they’re –”

Tlarit put a hand on top of the holoprojector and turned towards him. “Normally I’d say that it’s none of your business,” she said, “but I can guess why you’re asking.” She looked at him for a long moment before going on, “Yes, they’re sleeping together, and yes, it was consensual. Hera came and asked me for advice before they started,” she added, her lips quirking. “Kanan adores her. He has since they met, and that was months before she started spending the night here.”

“Adores her,” Doriah said flatly.

“Like a man loves a woman, not like a child loves a pet tooka,” Tlarit said. She arched an eyebrow at him. “I was worried about a pretty Twi’lek girl here all on her own too, especially one who clearly didn’t know how things worked down here. She’s fine. I’d worry less about her and more about yourself.”

She activated the holoprojector and bent over it, adding, “This is encrypted. I wouldn’t want to keep it going too long, though, just in case the Empire gets curious.” She stepped back as the air over the holoprojector turned blue and fizzed with static as it connected.

Doriah bit his lip, putting an arm around Xiaan as she stirred nervously.

The blue static resolved into the image of a Twi’lek woman in her mid-forties, too strong-featured to be called pretty, with strips of brightly-colored cloth tied around her lekku. She gave Tlarit an irritated look and said, “I hope this is important, I was about to go to a meeting.”

“It’s important,” Tlarit said, unbothered by her tone. “I need to set up a hand-off immediately; I have people here that I need to get to the Fleet.”

Clotho Syndulla frowned. “Are you still on Naboo?”

“I am.”

“Coming to you will be dangerous. I can arrange it if there’s no other way, but –”

Doriah couldn’t stand watching anymore. He stepped up beside Tlarit, Xiaan clinging to his shirt, and said, “Mama?”

Clotho’s eyes went wide. “Doriah!” she gasped. “You – how –” Her gaze went to Tlarit, accusatory, before she looked back at Doriah. “Are you all right? I can be there in a few hours – I’ll be there in a few hours.”

“I’m – I’m not hurt,” Doriah said. “I’ve got Xiaan with me.” He tried to turn her around so that she was facing the hologram, but she refused to move. “And Hera,” he added, “but she’s in another room right now.” He bit his lip, hesitating over the words, but eventually had to admit, “I don’t know where any of the others are. I haven’t seen them. They took them away – and, Mama, Lika, they killed –”

“I know, Doriah,” his mother said gently. “It wasn’t your fault. The Empire destroys everything it touches.”

Doriah felt his lekku twitch uneasily, thinking about Hera in that Imperial uniform, but couldn’t bring himself to tell his mother about that yet. That was Hera’s secret to tell, not his.

“I’ll be there in a few hours,” Clotho went on. “I promise. Listen to Tlarit – she’s done this before.”

“All right,” Doriah said.

His mother smiled at him. “I’ll see you soon,” she promised. “I love you.” Then the hologram blinked out, and she was gone.

Doriah let out his breath in a sigh. He put an arm around Xiaan’s shoulders as she hugged him, then wiped the back of his free hand under his eyes, surprised to find it coming away wet. It wasn’t that he hadn’t expected to see his mother ever again, he just…he hadn’t expected to see his mother again. Not now, not when he had woken up this morning in the cramped quarters of the count’s yacht, not when only a few hours ago he had been in the kitchens with the rest of the count’s slaves.

Tlarit was watching them solemnly. “I’ll find you both a change of clothes and then take you into the enclave,” she said. “Hera too, if I can convince her.”

Doriah glanced up, frowning. “Why wouldn’t she?”

Tlarit shrugged. “She’s very stubborn.”

Doriah bit his lip, but couldn’t argue that. He was uncomfortably aware that he hadn’t seen Hera in four years; he didn’t know who she was anymore, except that she had gotten him and Xiaan away from the count without a moment’s hesitation.

Tlarit turned away and went to dig in a closet. “I keep things if I find them,” she explained, her voice muffled. After a few moment she turned around, holding an armful of fabric. “I think these should fit you,” she said, holding one pile to Doriah and offering the other to Xiaan, who didn’t take it. Tlarit put it on top of Doriah’s pile instead. “I’ll go make the arrangements,” she said, moving towards the door. “It shouldn’t take long.” She hesitated, her hand hovering over the control, and added, “Do you want me to lock the door? You can open it from the inside. Only I and the owner have the combination.”

“Yes,” Xiaan contributed before Doriah could respond, her voice small.

Tlarit nodded. “All right, then,” she said, and stepped out as the door slid open.

Doriah sat down heavily on the bed as it slid shut again. He heard it lock and tried not to tense at the sound, but Xiaan clearly felt better about it. She started to pick through the clothes Tlarit had put out, and after a moment Doriah made himself do the same.

It was a relief to get out of the count’s livery. He stepped into the refresher, found a clean hand towel, and wiped his face and hands; he wanted to shower but suspected they didn’t have time. He made Xiaan do the same, half his attention on the door and the sounds of people passing by in the hallway outside.

Tlarit returned not long afterwards, knocking on the door first to let them know she was coming in before she actually did so. “I’ve found somewhere for you to stay tonight,” she said.

“What about Hera?” Xiaan asked, small-voiced.

Tlarit hesitated. “That’s up to her,” she said after a moment. “We should check with her before we leave anyway.” She smiled reassuringly at them; Doriah didn’t return it.

When they reached Kanan’s room, it was to find that Hera had changed out of her Imperial uniform into civilian clothes she presumably kept in her lover’s rooms. Doriah felt his shoulders loosen as he saw her; he hadn’t realized how uncomfortable it made him to see her in an Imperial uniform. She looked much better in normal clothes, even if they were cut for humans and even if she still had her lekku covered up.

He was also pretty sure that she had been crying, going by her swollen-looking eyes. Kanan was sitting beside her on the bed, his arm around her shoulders; Hera had been leaning wearily against him but had looked up when the door opened.

“You look better,” she said.

“So do you,” Doriah told her. He hesitated, then said, “Tlarit wants to take us into the enclave.”

Hera nodded and pulled herself to her feet, moving as if she was weary in every muscle. Kanan glanced up at her, frowning, but made no move to get to his feet. “That’s probably a good idea,” she said. “You’ll blend in better there until –” She stopped, biting her lip.

“You’re not coming?” Xiaan said, small-voiced.

Hera took a deep breath. She leaned her hip against Kanan’s shoulder and he put a hand absently on the back of her leg; Doriah didn’t wince, but it was a near thing. “I’m going to stay here tonight,” she said. “Everyone in the ISB these days knows where I spend my nights when I’m in town. If they think I’m involved and come looking here –”

“Then you probably don’t want to be here,” Doriah said in what he thought was a reasonable tone.

Hera flicked a glance at him. “If I’m not here, then they’ll know I’m involved, and they’ll tear the place apart.”

Doriah shrugged.

Hera glanced down. “And I don’t like spending time in the enclave,” she added, so softly Doriah had to strain to hear her. Louder, she said, “We’ll meet you there in the morning.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Doriah said.

She looked up at him and nodded. “I’ll be there.” She put an arm out as Xiaan came over to hug her. “I promise.”

Doriah nodded back, then realized she had said “we” instead of “I” and tried not to let his reaction show. Kanan seemed decent enough, for a human. He just hated the idea of Hera with a human man.

Hera came over to hug him too. She was shaking a little beneath his hands, as if the stress of the evening’s events had caught up with her. “I’m glad you’re here,” she said softly. “Really glad.”

Doriah hugged her back. “I’ll see you in the morning,” he said. “I talked to my mom.”

Hera’s eyes widened a little. “That’s good,” she said. “That’s – that’s good.” She took a shaky breath, hugged him again, then released him. “You’d better get out of here,” she said.

She wrapped her arms around herself as Tlarit led them out. Doriah, glancing back, saw Kanan get up and go over to her, wrapping his arms around her before the door slid shut and cut them off from view.

Out, Doriah thought as they left the cantina and into the cool night air of the street. He put his arm around Xiaan’s shoulders and drew her against him. We got out.

#cut scenes and concept writing #good timing au tag #as always comments are appreciated #especially since I'm going out of my mind from comps right now

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