Chapter Text
“Party!" Corssin exclaimed as soon as he let go of Nida. The foot soldier was exuberant; as soon as she had clambered out of her A-wing, Corssin had swooped her up in a bone crushing hug. Eyes bright, and orange beard radiant, her friend was smiling uncontrollably, gripping her by the shoulders as he again repeated:
"Party!!"
"Alright, alright!" Nida shrugged him off. Behind her, Cassian was tugging a trolley towards her A-wing. A couple of the pilots who had been chilling around the hangar were inside her ship, trying to remove the massive KX security droid Cassian had brought with him.
Nida pulled off her helmet as Corssin diverted his attention somewhere else. "Hey L'ulo!" Her friend called out. "Party! Kris Chi's bunkroom!"
The green-skinned Lieutenant looked up from where he was filling out a mission report, completely unenthusiastic. Corssin's smile wavered, but didn't disappear, and he turned away before L'ulo could burn a hole in him with his unblinking red eyes.
"Cassian!" Nida's friend shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth. Nida was suddenly uncomfortably aware of the way her hair was sticking to her forehead with sweat. She definitely needed to wash out her helmet.
"Yes?" Cassian responded from across the hangar. Him and a few other pilots had successfully transferred the droid onto the trolley, and the Captain looked ready to tug.
"Party! Kris Chi's bunkroom!"
Kris Chi's bunkroom was the only place big enough to hold a party, other than the briefing room, and mission control. It was a section of bunkrooms, separate from the main base, that X-wing pilot Kris had claimed for himself after getting tired of listening to his bunkmate snore. Nida had only been to one or two parties since the beginning of the year; both were moderately fun, there was lots of drinking involved, a shit ton of dancing, and a whole bunch of people getting it on in dark corners or storage lockers.
It was Nida's belief that Mon Mothma and Bail Organa were secretly relieved Kris Chi had gone against alliance protocol and renovated the bunkrooms into his own space. It stopped them from having to witness a bunch of drunken rebel soldiers smashing things to the beat of tone-heavy music in the main base.
"What's it to celebrate?" Cassian asked, struggling to maneuver his trolley with both hands. Nida shucked off her white pilot’s vest, unzipping the front of her jumpsuit. The white shirt underneath was damp, pit stains clearly visible.
Corssin clapped Nida's shoulder enthusiastically, and she swore in pain. Her friend was a big man, over six feet tall and sturdily built from his previous job herding Dewbacks on Tatooine. One whack from his meaty hand was enough to send a shockwave down her spine that made her knees tremble. And to make matters worse, the rancher was incredibly fond of high fives (that had the potential to break fingers).
"Phoenix Squadron just returned from their surveillance mission," Corssin announced as Nida blinked tears out of her eyes. "No complications - it was a clean run. Aji'nhi suggested we open a bottle of something to celebrate."
Nida was all too familiar with the antics of fellow pilot Aji'nhi. With wide-set feline eyes, and a deep purple hue to her skin, the Zabrak had built herself a reputation as the supplier of the Yavin 4 rebel base. Aji'nhi was always making quick trips to nearby spaceports, where she could pick up shipments of different alcohols and spices. This party was probably just an excuse to increase interest in her products. Not that Nida was complaining; Correllian rum was hard to get a hold of in the middle of a war, and if Aji'nhi was willing to get it, well, thank the stars.
Cassian rolled his trolley closer to them, wiping his forehead with the sleeve of his brown jacket. "What about this successful mission?" He asked, accent twisting his words. "L'ulo and Nida flew through enemy fire to pick up me and the droid."
"Oh please," moaned Nida, surveying the front of her A-wing which was splattered with hundreds of different types of food. "Don't remind me of the vegetables."
Corssin shot both hands up in the air, revealing an impressive wingspan. "Two victories! All the more reason to celebrate the alliance!"
The Captain raised an eyebrow before biting a lip, deliberating. "I'll come." Cassian said finally, and Corssin whooped. "But only if someone brings alcohol."
"Buddy," the foot soldier snorted, bringing down his hand in one lightning-fast motion to slap Cassian on the arm. Nida felt an overwhelming rush of empathy. "You don't even know."
***
"I reckon it's time to head out." Corssin announced. "It's getting dark already."
Nida sighed and dropped her wrench, pressing the heels of her hands to both eyes. Corssin was right; the light was already fading from Yavin 4's horizon. From her vantage point lying underneath her ship, she could see a speckling of stars through the open bay doors of the hangar, bright through the moon’s too-thin atmosphere.
"You can already hear the party starting," her friend told her, shuffling his black boots against the floor. Corssin always kept his shoes immaculately clean; in fact, they were probably the most-groomed part of him. Nida took her hands off her eyes, all too aware that she had probably just smeared a mask of motor grease on her face. Outside, muffled shouts and cheering could be heard, as well as the dull thudding of some indistinct music. Corssin leaned his head down so that he could see Nida. "Do you wanna get going?"
Nida groaned, leaning forward to gently head-butt the sleek metal on the underbelly of her ship. Her A-wing was a mess. The white paint was streaked with stains, there was at least a pound of Bicce sand lodged in the joints of the hatch, not to mention layering the seats of the cockpit. A black starburst pattern of blaster fire was burned into the metal above and below the engine, and on both wings.
Corssin had hung around for a while after Cassian had dragged his droid off to the mechanics lodge. He had been happy to talk about everything that had happened on base while she tried in vain to scrub Bespin fig seeds off of her windshield. After a while he'd sat silently and handed her tools while she tinkered, but now he was restless. One hand absentmindedly scratching his beard, a toe tapping against the floor, Corssin awaited her answer.
"I'm so sorry, baby," Nida whispered, forehead still pressed against her ship. "I'll give you a nice chemical wash tomorrow, I promise."
Her friend pumped his fist, smile a mile wide. "We're going?" His teeth were practically glowing.
Nida lowered her head slowly to the floor, bracing two hands against the underside of her ship so that she could slide out along the floor. She grabbed the greasy wrench from where it was dropped on the ground before she stood up.
- well, before Corssin basically lifted her up one handed in a singular smooth motion.
"This is going to be awesome!" Her friend was still beaming as he took the wrench from her hands and replaced it with her pilots vest and helmet. "When was the last time the four of us were at a party together? And Cassian too?"
Nida raised her eyebrows, she didn't think she'd ever been to a party with the Captain, or even seen him around the base until Sefla brought him to the fire-pit a couple months ago. Honestly, Cassian didn't really seem like the party type. Nida thought of the story he had told during the trip from Bicce, the poisoned fruit. "You really like him that much?"
Corssin shrugged. "He's a good guy. Secretive, but hey. Who hasn't got their secrets nowadays?"
"You." Nida offered, which was true. She could name every single one of the Dewbacks Corssin had herded, the square footage of his ranch, all of his childhood school teachers. The foot soldier was an open book.
Her friend grinned, tousling her hair. (Could he not see it was in a braid? Did he not know that he was just messing it up further?) “And I'm one of a kind.”
Nida rolled her eyes and grinned. "You head down, I think I'm going to hit the showers in my bunkroom."
Together they walked towards the doors, Nida holding her white vest and helmet, Corssin bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Sounds like a plan," he waved as they parted. "I'll save you a bottle of Correllian."
"A barrel!" Nida shot back, turning away.
The walk back to her bunkroom was uneventful, besides L'ulo stopping her as she passed the medbay to remind her that General Draven wanted to see both her and Cassian in mission briefing the next morning.
"So don't stay up too late partying," he had warned her, red eyes all too knowing.
Outside the mechanics lodge, Nida waved to the red R2 unit she had made friends with when she had first transferred to Yavin 4. The droid screamed a series of shrill shrieks at her until she knelt. "Hi tiny friend," the pilot began, "how's life been?"
The droid whirred, responsively twisting its metallic head.
"That's good."
Evidently not finished, the R2 unit rolled forward, smacking into her knee, beeping faster than she could understand. "Whoa little buddy, hold your fire!" Nida chuckled, glancing up into the open door of the mechanics lodge-
-and right at Captain Cassian Andor. Blowtorch in one hand and screwdriver in the other, the Captain was kneeling over the black KX security droid they had picked up on Bicce. His hair was a mess, pushed back from his face by a pair of black goggles that were meant to guard against the glare from the blowtorch.
"Hi," said Nida.
The R2 unit rolled away.
"Hey," Cassian replied shortly, pushing the hair the goggles hadn't trapped back from his eyes with his forearm. "I thought you were heading to the party." Clad in just a white shirt and a pair of black pants, there was a streak of motor oil leading from his forehead, across his nose and down to his chin. His brown jacket was lying on the floor by the droid, a couple feet away.
Nida broke her gaze away, clambering to her feet. "I was just heading there," she fumbled with her helmet. "I was going to shower first."
"Alright." Cassian curled his shoulders forward in a sort of half approximation of a shrug. Every word of his next sentence was carefully spaced out, thoughtful. "Maybe I'll see you there?"
"Yeah I hope so." Nida replied, thinking about how Corssin said: he's a good guy . Thinking about secrets. Resisting the urge to touch the necklace at her throat, Nida gestured at his face, and then her own face. "By the way, you have a little-" she bit her lip to stop from grinning. "Dirt maybe, I don't know."
Dropping his screwdriver, the Captain dragged his wrist over his forehead, and swore when it came away black. The pilot chuckled before strolling away with a little backwards wave of her hand. She made it all the way down the hallway before realization struck her like a bolt from a blaster. Both of you in mission control, L'ulo had said, but she was too lazy to turn back.
Nida showered quickly, scrubbing away the sweat and grime that came from sitting in her A-wing all day and tearing the knots out of her hair. She took special care with the twin octagons that dangled from her necklace, letting the cool water run over them before she dropped it back against her collarbone.
Once she was finished she towelled down. The sounds of the party were even louder now, so loud she could hear them from her bunkroom deep within the base. Her friends were out there: Adema, Corrsin, Sefla, Cassian maybe.... Rum. The thought of having a nice warm drink spurring the pilot, she changed as fast as she could into black pants and a grey tunic. Nida grabbed her metal flask in one hand, slamming the door to her bunkroom closed with the other, reserved to braiding her wet hair on the way there.
She took a quick exit out of the base and into the cool night air. Thick grass twisting underfoot, Nida kept one eye on the light flooding out of the collection of bunkrooms separate from the main base, so as not to get lost on the horizon. The music pouring into the night air was so loud it made her whole body thud. One of these days, Mon Mothma and the rest of the alliance were going to realize just how impractical parties were. But for now, the rebels had just enough freedom to go a little crazy for one night.
It was exhilarating.
"Takiiiiiiiiiiiiir!" Someone called out as soon as Nida stepped inside, a pair of arms barrelled into her, and then a leg, and suddenly she was holding Sefla, as he swung his feet off the floor. "Guess where Aji'nhi is!"
"I don't know," Nida struggled under the full weight of her friend. The lights in the bunkroom were dimmed, rebels everywhere pulsing to the beat of the music. She could see Corssin dancing haphazardly with a tall Twi'lek girl she recognized from Phoenix Squadron, which meant that he hadn't saved her a barrel of rum, which meant-
The pilot gasped, gripping her friend tighter. She was holding Sefla like one might hold a baby. "Oh stars, Sef! Tell me there's still alcohol left!" She shook him. "Where are the drinks?"
Her friend giggled, pressing his forehead against hers. His breath smelt like Piwa Fruit. "The real question is, where is Aji'nhi?"
Nida relented, dropping him to the ground. "I don't know, where is she?" Sefla flashed her a cheeky grin, teeth impossibly white against the dim of the bunkroom. Gripping her by the elbow, her friend lead her through a throng of dancing people. Corssin whooped as they passed him, offering up a deadly high-five, which Nida moved to avoid. Sef wasn't so lucky.
"Over here," her friend called over his shoulder, clutching the ear that Corssin had hit. Together they moved through a doorway, into an even bigger room.
Nida dropped her mouth open in surprise, staring at the people jammed body to body, swaying to the beat of the music. She spotted Kris Chi standing up on a table with his pants off, and Corporal Wells leading a pit of dancers, engaged in performing complicated moves that required an abundance of flexibility. Sergeant Melshi was passed out in a corner, empty glass in his hand... but the people! How in Ghani's name were there so many people?
"Sef!" The pilot stopped her friend before he could advance further into the crowd. "Is every foot soldier in the alliance at this party?"
Sefla pulled her closer to him. Nida was short, but he was shorter, the top of his bushy hair level with her eyes. "Not every foot soldier!" He shouted in her ear. "More like half!"
Hand flickering to her throat, Nida let herself be dragged into the mess of rebels. Ducking under flailing arms and tentacles, she could feel her flask in the back pocket of her pants, just waiting to be filled. Her friend's grip on her elbow was tight, squeezing through a clump of soldiers Nida didn't recognize, until they reached the back wall.
There, sitting on a chair was Adema.
And there, sitting on Adema, was Aji'nhi.
Tall and wiry, with pale skin and dark hair, Adema was the third of Nida's only three friends. He was a supportive person, a methodical thinker, and he never hesitated to tell people his exact opinion on subjects that didn't actually concern him. In short, he was obnoxious, a tad judgemental, and forever living in a state of perpetual deadpan. Which was why seeing Adema at a party with a Zabrak girl draped over him (and clearly enjoying it!) was a bit disorienting.
Sefla turned around, eyes gleaming mischievously. Nida shook off his hand, bringing hers up to her mouth to hide her laughter, but it was too late; Aji'nhi whipped her head up at the sound, glaring, and Adema followed suit, peeling his eyes open sluggishly.
"Oh man, I'm sorry." Nida giggled, ignoring the way Aji'nhi's golden feline eyes bore into her. Underneath his partner, Adema blinked with confusion, sleepy eyes flickering from her (as she stifled her laughter), to Sef (doubled over with his hands on his knees), to the girl on his lap. The fact that Aji'nhi was no longer sucking face with him should have tipped Adema that something was up, and yet it didn't. Their friend slowly dropped his head back down onto the chair and closed his eyes. Sefla howled with laughter.
"That was unexpected." The pilot told the rebel base's resident supplier, and beside her, Sefla wiped tears from his cheeks. Slowly, recognition dawned on the Zabrak’s pretty face.
Aji'nhi leaned back until her shoulder was pressed against Adema's slumbering chest. "Hey you're Nido, right?"
"Nida," Nida replied, "but close enough." She was kind of glad the supplier had recognized her; there weren't really a lot of people who knew her on base. There were at least three, but compared to the probably hundreds of people who knew Aji'nhi, three didn't seem like a lot.
Aji'nhi grinned, suddenly friendly. "Addy told me to save you this!"
The pilot turned to Sefla. Addy ? he mouthed, clearly having the time of his life. The supplier twisted in her seat, reaching underneath both her and their friend (who had just been given an unforgivable pet name), to bring out...
Gasping, Nida grabbed the bottle of prime Correllian rum with both hands. It was clear enough to see the amber liquid inside, she could practically taste it already. "Thank Avon," she cried out, clutching the bottle close to her chest. "Honestly Aji'nhi, you are the best!"
"Avon," the Zabrak queried, looking amused. Nida felt a flush in her cheeks that had nothing to do with the party, or the dancing people, or the prospect of a drink. "You must be a Naveshi! That's so cool, I've always wanted to go to Akiva." Before Nida could answer, Aji'nhi was already turned around, preoccupied with trying to get Adema to wake up. "Well, enjoy your drink."
Nida pushed the bottle of rum so close she could feel it against her pulse. "I definitely will." She turned to Sefla, who had gone from looking amused to confused. "I am going to treasure this drink with my life."
Her friend blinked at her. "I don't get it." He shifted his gaze to focus on Adema, who was being coaxed back awake by the woman on his lap. "Aji'nhi is like, really fucking hot."
Shrugging, Nida led Sef away from the couple. "So is Adema."
Sefla tilted his head, following her into the overwhelming crowd of people. "Really? I mean he's tall I guess, but not as tall as Corssin..."
"Everyone is tall compared to you." She grabbed his shoulder as he shot back an insult. "I'm going to go find a dark corner and drink. Don't bother Adema too much, it looks like he's having fun."
"See you later, shortstock!" Sefla shouted after her as she turned away.
Grinning, Nida shook her head. The bottle of rum was tight in her grip, her flask burning a hole in her back pocket. Surrounded by music and people, it was hard not to enjoy herself. She made her way into the first room again; it had quieted down a smidge, and Corssin could no longer be seen flailing his arms in a way that made him a risk to other people. Through the open door of the bunkroom, Yavin was rising, bright against the horizon. Nida found a corner and leaned against the wall, sliding down it until she was sitting on the floor. Inside the bunkrooms, there was an energy that was hard to replicate anywhere else. People were living hard and fast, under the harsh reality that all of this might be gone tomorrow. Daylight was coming, but the pilot didn't want this night to end.
Nida unscrewed the bottle, taking her flask out of her back pocket. Liquid swishing, she filled the metal canister up to the brim, preparing to save it for later. The rest of the bottle, she was going to drink tonight. Just that thought made the pilot happy.
Deep within her corner, the shadow of dancing bodies flooded over her; they were reminiscent of the shadow that had covered her cockpit as she flew between two buildings on Bicce, the shadow of the sand temple eroding away, the shadow in her own heart whenever she thought of home. Nida sighed, she was so preoccupied with drinking and thinking (mostly drinking), that she didn't even see him approach until he was sitting beside her.
"Hey," said Cassian Andor, moving to sit shoulder to shoulder with her. His features looked softer in the dim light, or maybe it was just the rum blurring his edges. The Captain had changed; he was wearing a dark grey long sleeve top, instead of the white shirt and jacket he had been in before.
"Hi," Nida replied, struggling to vocalize over the pounding music. "You came."
"Yeah," Cassian said back, absentmindedly tapping the fingers of one hand against the opposite wrist. "I arrived with the second wave."
"Second wave?" The pilot questioned, taking a sip from the bottle. Without counting the stuff tucked away in her flask, she had already drank half.
The Captain nodded. "A bunch of X-wing pilots decided they would join in the fun." He turned to morosely survey the crowd of dancing rebels. "So much fun."
"This will make it even more fun." Nida offered, handing him her bottle. Usually she wouldn't be sharing her liquor unless he asked, but Cassian looked sort of... alone sitting there. In a way, he was apart from the rest of the crowd.
He took the bottle without hesitation. "Where are Sefla and the rest of them?"
Nida shrugged, feeling her shoulder move against his when she did so. "Sef and Corssin are out there, somewhere, and Adema is currently hanging out with Aji'nhi."
"The supplier?" Cassian asked through his mouthful of rum. She nodded but didn't elaborate, watching as her companion swallowed and then wiped a hand over his mouth. "I followed your example and showered." He told her.
The Pilot grinned. "What, to get the black smudge off your face?"
"I don't even know what that was." He admitted, staring through the neck of the bottle at the drink below. "This is really good."
"It really is." Nida held her hand out so that he would pass the rum back. "This is what I love to do at parties. Drink myself under the table."
"What, no dancing?" Cassian asked, a bit of humour colouring his voice, as he knocked his knee against hers.
"No dancing." Nida replied, taking a swig. "Sitting and thinking maybe."
"What do you think about?" The Captain asked, watching her. His accent shortened the what , elongated the about , and made the think sound like theenk . Nida was officially fond of it.
"Oh stars." She said. "Usually everything. Even the existential and terribly depressing stuff." Her eyes were fixed on his eyelashes, which were much too long, and dark. "Although I try to avoid thinking about that." She breathed out, settling against the wall. "Everyone tries."
"Sometimes it's easier to forget," said Cassian, and his voice had dropped a pitch, "that we are living through something horrible. That we are doing all these horrible things." He turned away from her. "Sometimes it's easier to not think."
There was no answer to that, not really, not one that would make a difference. Nida handed the bottle back, bringing her flask out of her pocket. Unfortunately, it looked like she wouldn't be saving any for later, after all. Back to the wall, and facing everything existential, the pilot clinked her drink against Cassian's. "Cheers." She said, before taking a swig.
She didn't know how it happened, but it did. One minute, they were sitting on the floor, drinking. The next, they were here, the small of her back pressed against the shelves of the storage locker, his hands untangling her braid. They were much too close, pressed body to body, all harried breaths and insistent hands, just breathing each other in. Cassian smelled like the inside of her A-wing, the hot sand on Bicce, the jungle moon air she was so familiar with. As he pressed her harder into the shelves he smelled like sweat and motor grease and all the things one shower couldn't wash away.
Nida shifted, moved her hands from his hair to his waist, fingers sliding against the cool skin of his hips, between the fabric of his shirt and pants. Cassian angled his head, bumping his nose against hers, beard scratching against her chin. Something clattered to the floor, was that her flask? Her braid was completely undone, damp hair tumbling around her shoulders. It was his belt, his belt that had fallen to the ground, so easily heard against the pounding music.
As Nida struggled to kick off her own pants, her partner kissed an impatient line down her neck, fingers tangling in the chain at her collarbone. One pant leg was stuck on her boot, and she kneed him in the thigh trying to shake it off. The Captain tasted like heat and night air, and all fifteen spices in a bottle of Corellian rum. Nida pushed her hands underneath his shirt, until they were pressed flat on the skin of his back. In one smooth motion he reached down, grabbed her by her naked legs and lifted her off the ground.
The back of her skull cracked against a shelf, but it was like she didn't even feel it. Wrapping her legs around Cassian's waist she pushed closer, tearing her hands out of his shirt, cupping his jaw. They were kissing; they had been kissing for so long she no longer remembered what it felt like when his mouth wasn't on hers. The pounding of the music drowned out all her thoughts, and the dark of the storage cupboard kept the light of Yavin rising at bay. Her partner jolted and Nida gasped against his cheek, curling her fingers tighter around his face. For some reason they were quiet, every reaction, every sound contained. It was just them in here, and a hundred people outside the door. A hundred people dancing and laughing, carefree and oblivious to what was going on in a closet a few feet away.
The scar on the heel of his hand - the one she had noticed the first time they met - was firm against the back of Nida’s neck.
She pressed closer.