Chapter Text
Omega is beginning to hate this place more and more.
She couldn't help but feel terror when she first arrived at Tantiss. The hallways are both eerily similar and simultaneously jarringly different from what she's grown up walking through on Kamino, and provide no sense of comfort in the familiarity. And when she first saw the tubes lining the walls of one of the labs, she almost froze in place, terrified she'd be shoved into and trapped in one of them, forever reduced to an experiment to be poked and prodded at.
Once she was informed that she was merely insurance to encourage Nala Se to follow through with assigned tasks, she felt a little relieved, though it didn't solve the fact that she was still trapped in this Force forsaken mountain.
Since she’s not allowed to just sit around waiting for her mentor/caretaker/surrogate mother(?) to misbehave, Hemlock assigns Omega as Nala Se’s lab assistant. The familiarity of following instructions and doing basic labwork is somewhat calming, barring the cold atmosphere that somehow always reeks of death, even if she can't actually smell anything. Emerie — who she learns is a female clone, just like her! — is the one to escort her around the halls, though occasionally her presence will be replaced with a shock trooper whenever her project requires her assistance there. Omega has no idea what it is, and she hasn't bothered to ask, since most of her questions have been answered with a short “That's classified.” from whomever she pesters.
She finds herself wondering anyway, especially now, when Emerie is quietly discussing results with Nala Se and Omega can't see or hear anything from her position in front of the centrifuge, no matter how hard she tries.
She's just about to press start on her final set of samples — finally! And it's her last task, too! — when a loud alarm blares and red lights flicker to life at various points in the room.
Emerie and Nala Se’s datapads chirp with priority messages, though Emerie's is longer, so Omega suspects that whatever the issue is has to do with her project. She allows herself a sliver of hope that it's her brothers though. She won't be disappointed if it isn't, but... what if it is? She makes sure the pin she lifted from the supply room is still tucked in place inside her sleeve just in case.
Emerie quickly scans her datapad, as does Nala Se, and moves to the lab’s exit, eyes glued to the screen.
“Sorry,” she adds, turning briefly to look at Nala Se and Omega. “I have to take care of this.”
Both of the room’s occupants give her curt nods and the doctor ducks out of the room, shoes clicking rapidly on the floor.
Nala Se directs her attention to Omega. “Perhaps it is best if you return to your room,” the Kaminoan suggests, rising from her seat in front of the scanner’s screens. “I can take care of whatever is remaining.”
Omega nods again. She won't complain about being dismissed from her tasks early, even if that means she'll have to spend another isolating night in the little concrete box she's been forced to call home.
She obediently heads out, unsurprised when a shock trooper joins her as she makes the trek back to her room. They remain silent as they walk down the halls, even though the alarms are still blaring and the halls buzz with more activity than usual.
She glances up at her quiet escort. “Do you know what's going on?” she questions, not really expecting an answer.
The trooper doesn't change their body language but they do reply, “No. Even if I did, that wouldn't be information I’m authorized to inform you.” They don't sound very apologetic.
Omega huffs an annoyed sigh. That's all they ever tell her. Not authorized to do this, not allowed to say that. No one in this sithspawned facility can give her anything!
She gives the ground a salty little kick when they arrive at their destination. Before the trooper shuts her door, they inform her that latemeal will arrive shortly, though by who depends on whoever is available. This crisis could take a lot of personnel, especially if it’s a “subject” (Omega still shudders at the term) taking a chance at escape.
In the meantime, Omega empties her lunch pail for cleaning, keeping the straw doll she just finished crafting tucked carefully below. She has a spot for it under her mattress, too, but she feels better about having it on her.
She settles on her bunk, tracing idle patterns on the wall to pass the time. A loop-de-loop here, a flower here, and then the stem curls into a spiral-
She startles at a metal clatter as the vent cover on the ceiling comes crashing down, followed by a light grey blur that streaks under her bed.
Omega has to take a second to blink before registering what just happened.
She peeks under the shelf of her cot, anticipating anything from a stray maintenance droid to some kind of rodent, only to coo at the sight of her intruder.
Hissing and spitting from beneath her bed is a tiny tooka kitten, barely bigger than her lunch pail. Its light grey fur is standing on end as it bares its little teeth fiercely as though Omega had broken into its domicile instead of the other way around. Its pupils have shrunk into slits in amber-coloured irises, the tooka’s gaze darting between Omega’s face, the closed door, and everything else in the room.
“Hello, little one.” Omega keeps her voice soft and what she hopes is reassuring. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
Something in the feline’s eyes clear as it takes stock of its surroundings, and its body relaxes a fraction when Omega doesn't make any threatening movements or sounds. She has a moment to feel a little spark of pride before the door whooshes open and the kitten shrinks back, this time snarling at whoever’s at the entrance.
Omega snaps her head up and quickly scrambles to block the tooka from anyone’s view.
Judging by Emerie's unamused expression, she didn't quite succeed. “Apologies for interrupting your evening,” the doctor begins. “I thought I'd deliver your latemeal on my way to examine your room for our missing specimen. Though, now I’m not sure I need to thoroughly investigate.”
Omega doesn't let the knowledge of being discovered dampen her confidence, however. “If you want to take it back, you're going to have to get through me,” she snaps, rising to her full height.
Emerie doesn't humour her. “LF-04 must be returned to the lab. We still require samples from him, and his growth must be monitored to ensure there aren't any complications.”
The information isn't comforting at all. Omega isn’t going to let any creature be experimented on like that. “I won't let you take him!”
Emerie lets out a long-suffering sigh, her calm composure starting to crack. She rubs a hand down her face before exhaling again, this time more resigned.
“Fine,” Emerie compromises. “He can stay here. However, you will have to allow us to continue to take samples periodically and check in regularly to monitor his health. Failure to comply will result in separation by force. Understood?”
Omega nods, but Emerie looks pointedly at the tooka underneath the bed, and though Omega's unsure of how a cat could understand Basic, much less express agreement to anything Emerie has said, the scientist seems pleased with whatever non-verbal response the kitten provides.
“Alright. I’ll leave this here,” Emerie sets Omega’s latemeal box on her mattress, as well as a smaller container of what Omega has to guess is food for the kitten. “I will return at 0800 tomorrow to check on LF-04 and escort you to Nala Se’s lab for your daily tasks.”
The scientist leaves them with a short bow, the door sliding closed.
Omega takes a quick moment to make sure they won't be interrupted immediately again before crouching down next to the bed.
The kitten hisses at her, though his reaction this time around is more tame and less panicked. He refuses to move from his spot in the corner when Omega clicks her tongue at him like how she's seen natborns do to their own pets. She's at a loss for what to do before she remembers the food.
She quickly snatches the small container and cracks it open. The contents are what looks to be mashed fish, the scent slightly overpowering, though the cat seems to perk up at the sight and smell of food. She sets the cup on the ground right next to the bed and waits patiently, settling back on her knees.
It takes a few minutes for the tooka to slowly inch out of his little corner, steps wary and guarded. When he finally makes it to the food bowl, well within Omega's reach, she has to hold herself back from petting him, keeping her hands in her lap as the kitten laps away at his dinner. Instead, she chooses to examine him now that he's in better lighting.
Thankfully, the little feline appears uninjured, well-fed, and physically happy for now. She also notices a spot around his right eye, a darker patch of fur in a vaguely circular shape. Unusual, since the rest of the cat's body is a plain silvery grey, but she doesn't really know much about different tooka breeds to really question it.
The tension in the tooka's body seeps out with every passing minute, though Omega still doesn’t dare to touch him in fear of chasing him away.
She’s only a little ashamed to admit that she’s been lonely since arriving at Tantiss with four brother-shaped holes in her heart, one she knows will never be filled again. The mountain is a desolate place, despite there having to be so many people, both experiments and personnel, and she’s been denied all opportunities to interact with anyone more than strictly necessary, social interactions dampened by an air of cloying fear and forced professionalism. But Emerie’s been kind enough — and a-ha, she knew it! Her only sister does care — to allow her some reprieve from the choking loneliness, and Omega's not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Maybe she'll be able to give this tooka the same companionship she desires.
—
Omega decides this tooka is special.
She lets it claim one half of her pillow to sleep on and is pleasantly surprised when the kitten curls up closer to her head, purring nearly inaudibly, velvety fur brushing against her ear. He’s not pressed against her or anything but Omega knows these things take time.
Baby steps, she tells herself, and night after night, they make progress.
Omega still has duties around the lab during the day, and Emerie comes to take samples from the tooka, no matter how much he yowls and scratches and hides. Omega’s heart aches at every panicked cry, but she trusts Emerie to keep her word, when the older clone assured her the first couple times she protested that “LF-04 will not be harmed so long as his samples are still being taken. However, if you interfere, I cannot guarantee that Dr. Hemlock’s chosen punishment will leave either of you unharmed.”
At least the kitten grows less anxious with each visit, though he still insists on putting up a fight every time Emerie raises a hand towards him, even when she starts bringing treats as an apology for having to manhandle (cathandle?) him. He does grudgingly take the treats, after the first few times they’re offered, but not without wary eye contact with the scientist and careful steps, as though it’d be retracted with a firm whap on his head.
Omega’s happy to see the kitten warm up to her, little by little. With every passing day, he lets her inch closer, though he rarely initiates contact on his own. She knows she’s really achieved something when she successfully coaxes him out from underneath her cot after Emerie stops by, taking his trembling body in her arms and snuggling close, eliciting a soft purr that grows in volume as he nuzzles his nose into her neck.
—
One night, before they’re settling in to sleep, Omega realizes she’s somehow forgotten something super important. She can’t believe she’s managed without it for so long.
“I haven’t named you yet, huh?” she asks rhetorically, plopping down on her thin mattress.
The tooka coos questioningly from his perch on her pillow, tilting his head at a forty-five degree angle. Something in his eyes looks both wary and amused.
“A name!” she repeats. “And it needs to be a good one, too. Like... Fluffy!”
The kitten wrinkles his nose. A definite no.
“Leo?”
He shakes his head, whiskers swishing in the air.
“Hm... how about Bullseye?”
She gets a pondering ear twitch and a meow of approval. She doesn’t really know how she knows it’s approval, but she does. She also has no idea how Bullseye can understand Basic, either, but she chalks it up to this tooka being special, and with each passing day, she’s more sure of it.