Chapter Text
Even with the Ebinor on autopilot, Rogue still thought he was doing pretty great in the pilot's chair, all things considered. He was alone on the bridge - a rarity for most of his life, and still as uncomfortable as a sore tooth he wanted to poke at. He carefully nudged the nose of the craft through the wreckage of a space battle, not long over but with nothing alive in sight. Both sides seemed to have fled. He swallowed and tried to ignore the racing of his heart, tapping his metal foot on the floor with rhythmic clinks.
This is not my war any longer, he told himself. It shouldn’t matter that this is Sep space now. But it did - and since old habits die hard, he found himself desperately scanning the wreckage, as if looking for pieces of brothers long since dead and gone.
Winger....
Scoffing, Rogue shook his head. Thinking about him was not healthy. Just pilot the ship, he thought to himself. Just keep going and you'll be fine.
The door to the bridge hissed open. Soft footsteps with an odd rhythm to them sped up, then stopped abruptly. Rogue half-turned and tried not to roll his eyes.
“Ligara,” he said carefully, chewing his lip. “Something wrong?” The Kaminoan blinked her huge black eyes and folded her hands in front of her.
“You’re piloting the ship?” she asked languidly, but for a Kaminoan her voice was awfully fast and anxious. “Through Separatist space?” “Well.” He gave her a tight smile. “Certainly looks that way, doesn't it?”
She rolled her eyes and sat down in the copilot seat. “Don’t be coy, clone,” she says. “It doesn’t suit you.”
He ground his teeth; he was not going to snap at her, not when she was one of the women smugglers who'd saved his life when his brothers left him for dead. It was only fair to be polite. Rogue tried to smile, but he was fairly certain he just looked like he'd swallowed sour bantha milk.
“Look,” he said shortly. “It's not exactly like I'm a stranger to starcraft, Ligara.” He'd been in love with a pilot, once. “But Dreu put the ship mostly on autopilot. I’m just steering through the debris field.”
“Oh, good.” Her relief was almost tangible, and Rogue’s stomach twisted. Stop it, he warned himself. It wasn't her fault - she couldn’t help what she was any more than he could. But even though he knew it wasn't fair, seeing her still made him want to run. Torturer, his instincts kept insisting. Murderer. All he could think of was Mouse's shattered face when he came back that night. The kaminoans did that, every last one of the slimy long-necked bastards.
But Ligara wasn't there. She'd never mentioned why she left Kamino, but it was long before the Jango clones were born, apparently. He knew she wasn't a murderer, not if she was on this ship with an aggressive Twi’lek mechanic, a sarcastic Togruta fortune teller, and him. Half a clone, running from a war he was born to fight.
There was silence between them for a while - strained, awkward, like a healing wound that was itching and he wanted to scratch, but knew he shouldn't. This was probably the best it would get between him and Ligara.
Suddenly, she stood out of her chair, one long white hand pointing out the viewport – and the fact that a Kaminoan's done anything suddenly made it far more urgent when she spoke.
“What’s that?” she asked. “There - can you see it?”
“No, I’m completely blind,” Rogue snapped, not taking his eyes from the huge white object that almost filled the viewport. “Oh, wait - if that were true you would’ve killed me, right? Gotta be useful.”
“Oh, shut up,” she said impatiently, stepping gracefully toward the window. “I see something.” The next second, the object turned lazily in space - and Rogue went colder than ice, his stomach dropping to his feet. “It’s an escape pod,” he whispered reverently, pressing his fingers against the glass as his breath fog hid the view. “We have to help them.”
Ligara narrowed her eyes, peering across the gulf through the transparisteel window of the pod. “Clones,” she murmured. “Poor creatures. I wonder if they’re alive?”
Rogue swallowed, hands tight on the controls. “They are,” he says. “I can feel it. Go wake the others - we have to help them.”
She made a sympathetic noise that ground on his nerves, and had the audacity to put a hand on his shoulder; he jerked away and glared at her.
“Rogue,” she says, “It’s a nice thought, really, but it’s just not realistic at the moment.”
A beat of shocked silence. He felt a warp go through the world as adrenaline pulsed through him. “What the kriff did you just say to me?” he hissed. “Saving my brothers’ lives isn’t realistic?” His voice had risen to a snarl now, and she backed away. “They need my help! They’re almost out of air!”
She blinked nervously, head swaying on her long neck. “We can’t just rescue every lost soul we come across,” she said. “It wouldn’t be -” “But we can save these ones!”
Pounding footsteps, two sets, and the bridge door hissed open again. Dreu, yellow eyes flashing like she was already spoiling for a fight, stepped in and immediately went to stand by Ligara. In the second before she spoke their hands entwined, pale blue-green on white. “What’s wrong?” she asks, looking up at her girlfriend. “Do I need to ready the cannon?”
“I don’t think so,” Doriana said slowly, stepping onto the bridge after Dreu. Her eyes, blue as night, were locked on the escape pod. Her head tilted sideways with that strange, thoughtful look she got when she was sensing the future. “There’s your problem, Dreu.”
Dreu glanced out the viewport, then between Rogue and Ligara, taking in the situation in one sharp glace. “Oh. I see.”
“Please,” Rogue found himself saying, almost begging. “They could be dying. You have to help them!”
“I don’t have to do anything,” she said, still considering the pod. “Shut up and let me think.”
“We’d be vulnerable if we stopped,” Ligara pointed out. “And even if the Separatists don’t notice us stopping, what if they stop us and find us with a bunch of clones?”
“I don’t know.” Doriana crossed her arms, chewing thoughtfully on the corner of her maroon lip. She was still staring at the pod like there was something important about it beyond what they could see. “We’re talking about people’s lives.”
“Clones,” Ligara says dismissively.
Rogue growled then - a real, angry growl. “You mean soldiers? Brothers, who might be wounded, in pain, running out of air?”
Dreu hissed out air, pinching the bridge of her nose with a teal hand; behind her, her lekku swung back and forth with the movement. “We can’t risk it,” she said finally. “Ligara’s right -”
“Ligara’s always right with you!” Rogue interrupted, indignant. “You always take her side!”
“Rogue, please, there's no reason to be fighting.” Doriana’s voice was meant to be soothing, but it grated on Rogue’s nerves. Yes there is need to fight!
Amid the horrible sour churning of his stomach, Rogue noticed something: he was still at the controls of the ship. And he hadn't been lying earlier when he said he knew how to fly. Winger had shown him a lot.
No need to follow orders, he thought grimly, and pressed the button to dock with the pod. The fighting went silent like it had been switched off. Dreu let out a pointed sigh that sounded like a weapon. “We’ll talk about this later,” she said. Rogue held back a smile - nobody, not even Ligara, would be cruel enough to fly away now that the clones had heard the ship dock.
…..
Heartbeat pounding hard, Rogue stood by the airlock. They’d call him a deserter, he knew that. Even though he was technically more deserted than deserter. But still, he couldn’t regret saving their lives.
The airlock swirls open.
There were five of them - one asleep sitting up, over in the corner, with longish hair obscuring his face. One lying on the floor staring at the ceiling - not dead, Rogue noticed, since his black-lined eyes were open and blinking. Another had his arms crossed and was glaring at the wall like it'd personally offended him. And standing at the door, long braided hair over one shoulder, was one of the biggest Arc Troopers Rogue had ever seen, cradling an unconscious brother in his arms.
“Please,” said the man with the braided hair desperately. “Cat’s hurt. Have you got a medic?”