Chapter Text
Rotation 7 as a Bad Batcher, Entry 1
Wrecker said I looked sad when we left Saleucami. He thought it might help if I log my feelings and experiences in a journal. So, here I go!
We just left Saleucami. Our ship is a little crowded. There are eight of us now. Echo’s old captain and Jedi commander were visiting the Lawquanes when we got there and now they are travelling with us on the Marauder. Rex is okay. He’s very serious. He reminds me of Echo. Ahsoka is nice, but really sad for some reason. Wrecker said not to ask about it. Tech and Crosshair seem sad too. Wrecker said not to ask them about that either. Tech will at least smile at me when I talk to him. Crosshair won’t. I hope he will warm up to me when he gets to know me better.
Special Note: I caught Tech looking at a picture of someone before he knew I was behind him. It was a woman with brown hair. She was very pretty. When I came closer he closed the file on his data pad. He didn’t smile at me at all the rest of the rotation.
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Hyomare’s moon was the perfect place to lay low until it was time to meet Miran’s mentor on Kafrene. It was late spring on the lonely orb, and Miran was able to allow Spanner outside to hunt for rodents in the tall, red field grass while she and Luvari worked to familiarize themselves with their enemy. It was also the perfect place for Luvari and Miran to get used to each other’s very different personalities. Luvari had wit the sharpness of a new vibroblade, with a confidence that exuded through every pale blue pore. Miran was unsure of herself, but not of her skills, and her extraordinary mind tended to veer off in unexpected directions. Luvari imagined her thoughts to be like a data pad with a handful of tabs always open. It might have bothered anyone who was not a trained psychologist, but Luvari knew it for what it was. Miran was a once-in-a-generation genius.
According to the case study Luvari had found on Coruscant, their “enemy” was millions of miniscule implants; each guarded by a highly trained soldier. Bero Ti’s, “Mind Control Through Preprogrammed Cerebral Implantation” was proving to be a very enlightening read. It chronicled the highly successful experiments that perfected the process of inhibiting and controlling a host through a series of commands delivered aurally to a preprogrammed biochip placed in a very specific location in the brain. The two women poured over the two-hundred-year-old research, discovering that the organic chips were made from engineered cells based on those of a deep-sea sponge found near Kamino’s polar regions. The sponge contained highly adaptable DNA that allowed for integration within the brains of multiple species, including those of humans. If that wasn’t enough, further digging revealed that Bero Ti was the great, great, great grandfather of Kamino’s Chief Medical Scientist, Nala Se.
As they were discussing the chips’ implantation process in the embryonic stage, Miran paused and looked up from her data pad. “How long is a typical Pantoran pregnancy?”
Luvari blinked a few times as she realized where Miran was going. “Oh, uh, usually around eight standard months. What is it for humans?”
“It’s usually around nine. Something tells me that guessing eight and a half months for your hybrid child is going to be a bad idea. It’s too predictable.”
Luvari breathed out a small laugh and rubbed absently at her abdomen. “We’re not that lucky. I guess we will just have to start worrying about it at around eight months.”
“Hmm. We will have to worry about it long before then. You won’t be able to help me incapacitate clones once you’ve blown up like a puffer pig.” The right side of her mouth turned up in a teasing smile.
“What do you mean incapacitate clones? What are you thinking?”
Miran took a deep breath. “Well, at some point we are going to have to get ahold of a trooper and see if we can help him. That will of course happen after we have determined how to disable the inhibitor chip in his head and/or remove it. I’m thinking we will have to remove it, seeing as it is an organic substance. We can’t have it just festering in there. However, if it turns out that there is a way to somehow break it down noninvasively I would prefer to do that. Neither of us is a neurosurgeon. Though I suppose we could get our hands on a surgical droid or two. If we had access to a medical facility with a surgical suite we could just bring them there after knocking them out and they would wake up back to themselves. But I’m sure that—”
“Miran!” Luvari interrupted with a grin. “Slow down. We have some training to do before that. You said you can fight but can’t shoot. That’s something you are going to need to know how to do before you go and try to take down a clone trooper, don’t you think?” Miran nodded with a little grin of her own, embarrassed at having gotten so far ahead of herself. “Especially when I’m as big as a puffer pig,” she finished with a roll of her yellow eyes.
“I should teach you a few things too. I won’t teach you to fight yet. The last thing you need right now is a kick to the midsection, but I will teach you how to throw off an attacker and a few moves to slow someone down enough to escape. Personally, I’m hoping that your blaster skills will ensure it never comes to that. Speaking of your midsection, how far along are you? I don’t mean to be too personal, but it would be helpful if we could establish a timeline based on a rough estimate of when conception likely occurred, particularly since we do not know how long a half-Pantoran, half-human gestation lasts.”
Luvari looked down at her hands and smiled. When she looked up, it was with a look that was oddly shy coming from her. “I know exactly when it was. It was one standard month ago, the night of the Chancellor’s Ball. Crosshair was back on Coruscant so Tech could go to the ball with you. We exchanged our vows that night. That was the last time we were together.”
Miran said nothing. Luvari watched as she swallowed hard a couple of times, then cleared her throat and mumbled something about checking on a hyperdrive diagnostic she was running before walking away. Luvari sighed and went to see if Bilyk was up from his nap yet.
She found Miran a short time later sitting against the hull outside, trying to ignore the fact that Spanner was enjoying the last few bites of a long-eared mouse at her feet. She sat down next to her and tried to ignore the gruesome sight as well. “What happened that night, Miran?”
Miran looked out at the grasses swaying in the warm breeze. “That was the last time I saw Tech. He asked me to marry him that night.” She pulled her knees to her chest with her arms. “Then I brought him back to my apartment with the idea of spending the night like you and Crosshair obviously did. I got food poisoning instead.”
“Oh, no!” Luvari exclaimed with a breathy laugh she did not intend. “I’m sorry. It’s not funny.”
“It is a little funny in a tragic way,” Miran admitted with a smile. “It wasn’t a completely bad experience though. He took care of me. And I got to see him without a shirt on. That alone made for a memorable evening,” she noted with a glow on her cheeks.
“You hadn’t seen him without a shirt before then?” Luvari inquired hesitantly. “You and he never…?”
Miran’s eyes shot wide for a moment. She hadn’t meant for the conversation to go in that direction. “Um, no. We never did. I, uh, had never been ready for that.”
“With anyone?”
Miran shook her head, and Luvari could tell that the admission made her very uncomfortable. She put her hand gently on Miran’s knee and leveled her eyes with hers. “There is nothing wrong with that, Miran.” She still seemed bothered, so Luvari switched gears. “I’m glad you’re here. I haven’t had anyone to talk to about things like this since I lost my sister.”
“Your sister?”
“Identical twin. She was Bilyk’s biological mother and the only sibling I had. Do you have any sisters?”
“No. I have younger fraternal twin brothers.” She threw her head back suddenly and laughed. “I can’t imagine telling them about how nice it was to cuddle up to Tech with no shirt on!”
Luvari turned to her with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “Does he have the tattoo?”
Miran shifted her position to face her. “Red skull over a black 99 right over his heart?”
“That’s the one! I’m guessing they all have it then!”
“That would make sense,” Miran inferred with nibble at her bottom lip. “Tech and Crosshair have it, Echo has it…”
Luvari narrowed her eyes at her suspiciously. “How did you see Echo without a shirt on? He’s the least likely to expose himself that way.”
Miran grinned at the thought. She was secretly very proud of the fact that she was the one of the few people Echo trusted in that way. “I was his custodian when he had to have surgery on Coruscant a while back and I took over his cybernetics case from the Kaminoans when I visited Kamino. I’ve seen his tattoos a few times.”
Luvari suddenly got a wild look on her face. “We should get tattoos!”
“What?” Miran asked with her nose scrunched.
“I’ve always wanted one. Oh! We could get tattoos that match in some way like the guys have. What do you say?”
Miran just sat there with her mouth open. “Um, I’ll consider it. It will give me something to think about instead of thinking about what you and Crosshair were doing while I was reversing my dinner in front of Tech.”
“That wasn’t all we did that night.” Her face went very soft. “Did you know that the whole squad helped Tech learn to dance for that night?”
“Yes.”
“Crosshair got this look on his face after we said our vows. He started talking about wedding night customs and said there were some things he wanted to do with me. I thought I knew what he was getting at, but I was wrong. He gave me the sweetest kiss you can imagine, then he moved my furniture so that there was a space in the middle of my living room, pulled up the music from the ball, and danced with me for over an hour. He had to teach me the steps, but he was so patient. He didn’t stop until I knew the steps well enough to dance with him on our wedding night.”
Miran reached out and took Luvari’s hand. “Now that is something I will enjoy thinking about.” She looked down at Luvari’s pale hand in hers. “Is this what it’s like to have a sister? Talking about deeply personal matters and feelings? I’ve only ever been able to do that with Tech, and it felt a little strange. It doesn’t feel strange at all with you.”
Luvari squeezed her hand. “I guess that means we are vode now, Miran. Sisters.”
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Luvari looked up at the oddly linked planetoids ahead of them. “We’re approaching the Ring of Kafrene. I am not looking forward to this.”
Miran looked down at the helmet in her lap. “Neither am I, but the whole Imperial military is out looking for this shuttle. The sooner we ditch it the better.” She plopped the black bucket onto her head and pulled Bilyk into her lap as they landed.
They touched down in a docking bay covered in bright, neon graffiti in every language imaginable. Miran grabbed their bags and Luvari held Bilyk as they took one last look at the interior of the ship that had helped them make their escape. “Do you think the owner will be pleased when they run the registration and return it to them?” Luvari wondered as they descended the ramp for the final time.
“I would hope so,” Miran scoffed. “Their hyperdrive is now running at 96% efficiency. We did them a favor by stealing it.” She looked down as Spanner appeared at her feet. “Spanner, stay close.”
“Mrrwrerr”
Luvari tightened her hold on Bilyk as she looked around. “I’m very glad he can’t read yet.”
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They were at the edge of the settlement. Vranox had instructed Miran to meet him at the cantina at the center of the outpost. The streets were lively, crowded, and dark. Very little sun touched the settlement, resulting in an artificially lit, constant night. Spanner wove his way through the worn boots and blistered tentacles with ease. The women had a harder time. Twice, Miran had to step in when someone approached Luvari with offers to buy her son. Luvari was horrified at the notion and couldn’t seem to get the anger in her face to come out of her mouth. Miran talked the first man away easily. The second, a woman, kept upping her price until Luvari finally had to pull her blaster and Miran diffused the situation by telling her that he wasn’t for sale, but that she remembered seeing a stall three streets back that had a few small younglings. When she left Miran put her hand on Luvari’s back and gently nudged her to keep walking. “I hate this place.”
They slowly made their way to its heart, passing stands and stalls selling goods both familiar and foreign. They stopped at one point to buy something Luvari said was called a birikad, a harness for carrying a baby, and Bilyk was soon strapped to her chest. Luvari felt better having her arms free. She could already tell this was a place where having easy access to your weapons was essential.
They walked along for a few more minutes until Miran saw Luvari stop in her tracks. Her voice modulator lowered her speech to a deeper register as it left her helmet. “What have you found?”
She had stopped at a stand selling jewelry and weapons and was staring at a ring in a locked transparisteel case. “I never got Crosshair a wedding ring. Look at that one. It’s perfect! He always teases me about how pale I am. He says I nearly glow in the dark. That ring has a glow to it! And look at the pattern!” Miran gazed at the silver metal in wonder. She had heard of this metal before but had never actually seen it. It was emitting a pale silver light. The repeating pattern of thin circles with lines through their centers looked exactly like the tattoo surrounding Crosshair’s eye. Luvari was right. It was perfect. “I wonder if it would fit him.”
Miran looked closely at it with a tilt of her head. “It will.”
“How do you know?”
“Years of measuring thousands of pieces of armor. I’ve seen his hands. It will fit.”
“Excuse me, is this songsteel?” Miran asked the Zeltron running the stand.
The man turned to Miran with a greedy look in his eye and stepped around to the front of the table, excited to have the opportunity to talk about his most valuable item. “It is indeed! This is one of the galaxy’s strongest, lightest, and most difficult to manipulate metals. This is the only time I have ever seen it forged into jewelry. It is usually reserved for the finest weaponry. This is the rarest of ornaments.”
“How much?”
“More than you have, I’m sure.” He ran his eyes over the length of Miran’s armored form, taking in the strange way the plastoid defied reflection. “However, I would be willing to negotiate a transaction consisting of credits and your armor.”
That couldn’t happen. Miran’s armor protected her identity, and had quite a few tricks built in that she was going to need going forward. “No,” Miran insisted flatly. “My armor is worth far more than that ring.”
The man was impressed. “Really? Then perhaps a more personal arrangement,” he said slowly, his dark pink hand winding around her waist. “Any woman who wears such armor and knows of the existence of songsteel is a woman of obvious quality. I would trade the ring for a night in your bed.”
Luvari stepped forward to confront him, but there was no need. Miran had his wandering hand twisted painfully behind his back in a single smooth movement before Luvari could say a word. Miran’s voice turned even more deadly in its already modulated tone. “My quality notwithstanding, I only pay in credits, and I pay well.” She released him then, not wanting to draw too much attention. “Now I ask you again. How much for the ring?”
When Luvari heard the amount he wanted she gave the ring one last glance and turned to leave. She was shocked when she heard Miran say, “Done,” and saw her reach into a compartment in her armor for the money.
“Miran, NO! I can’t let you do that. That price is ridiculous! I’ll find him something else.”
Miran ignored her and paid the man exactly what he asked for. He wrapped the ring in a shimmering red cloth and then placed it into an ornately carved black wooden box. The carvings on the box were the same as those of the ring. It must have been the box the ring was in when he acquired it. Miran took the ring without another word and gave the man a curt nod as she tucked the box into the same compartment that was now devoid of credits and walked swiftly away. It wasn’t until they were out of sight of the man that Luvari heard Miran finally take a very deep and shuddering breath. “I really hate this place.”
“I can’t believe you did that.”
“Did what? Buy the ring or let him keep his shoulder in its socket?” Miran quipped.
“Both! Miran, there’s no way I can pay you for that ring.”
“You will never find a better ring for Crosshair, and you know it. You can pay me back by teaching me to shoot.”
“Anyone can do that.”
“No. They can’t. I can only shoot something if it is right in front of me,” she explained. “I’ve had my eyes checked for depth perception problems and my inner ears examined for balance issues. I’ve already paid as much for firearms instruction as I did for that ring. Whatever is wrong with me is up here,” she insisted sharply, rapping at her helmet with her knuckle. “You can see things in people, Luvari. If anyone can figure out what’s blocking me from learning to shoot it’s you. I would consider that knowledge more than enough to cover that ring.”
“I don’t know if I can help you with that, but I’ll try. I would have without the ring, by the way.”
Miran smiled under her helmet. “I know.”
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The cantina located in the center of Kafrene was rough. The women found a small booth in the far corner and watched the crowd carefully, keeping Bilyk as far to the inside of the seat as possible. Luvari was scanning the room for a male Zabrak but realized quickly that she needed more to go on as there were several of the horned men milling about. “What does your friend, Vranox, look like?”
“He’s a little past middle aged, with orange skin and black hair, green eyes, and thin geometric tattoos on his face. He won’t be out in the open. He’ll be looking for me from the shadows.”
Luvari’s crossed her arms. “Then don’t you think being in full armor and helmet is going to make spotting you a little difficult for him?”
Miran shook her head. “He’ll know I’m hiding. We have to find him.” She turned inwardly to the HUD in her helmet. “Thermal readout.” Her field of vision changed to a scene of colorful thermograms. “Lifeform detection.” All infrared readings coming from non-living sources disappeared. “Zabrak.” She watched as the images in front of her narrowed to only around twenty people. “Male.” Eleven figures remained. Ten were moving about talking and drinking, one was peering out halfway from behind a durasteel girder. Hello there, Vran. She switched back to speaking to Luvari. “He’s roughly six meters to your left behind that beam against the wall. Let’s go.”
When they got closer to where Vranox was standing Miran stopped. Three men were arguing with him about something in a language she did not understand, but she saw that they were armed. That was a language she understood. She turned to Luvari. “Wait here.”
As calmly as she could, Miran walked up to where Vranox and the three men stood and worked the best Iridonian Zabraki accent she could into her voice based on what she had heard from him in the past. She was pleasantly surprised with how well the tone slid silkily through her vocoder. “Our ship is ready to depart, father. Are you not yet ready to leave?”
Vranox stared hard at the woman in the dark armor and the side of his mouth turned up in an amused grin. He knew exactly who was in there. “In a moment, Narim. These men and I made a recent agreement. They are now asking for more credits than we originally agreed on. Further discussion is needed.”
“I grow impatient. Pay them so we can leave,” Miran said in her best attempt at a bored tone.
One of the men walked up to her and stared down into her helmet. He towered over her. “He hasn’t got the money. Do you?”
“Walk away,” Miran said softly. “And I will forgive your dishonest behavior toward my father.”
He sneered down at her. “And if I don’t?”
A golden glint from something pressed into his temple froze him on the spot. A far taller woman with a fierce expression spoke in a calm Pantoran accent. “Then we all get to find out if Twi’leks are as colorful on the inside as they are on the outside.”
One of the other men cleared his throat and jutted his head toward the exit. Luvari’s blaster stayed trained on them, tracking them with her arm until they were out the door. She took a deep breath and turned to Miran and Vranox after they left. “Damn it! I hate pulling a blaster while I’m holding him. I miss not having a babysitter.”
Vranox stepped forward and picked up Miran’s duffle. “Come. Stormtroopers patrol frequently. They will be told of this and will be looking for us. We must leave.”
Once they were in the street Miran spoke. “‘Narim’? I must have really caught you off guard, Vran!”
“Don’t tease your 'father', Miran,” Luvari scolded with a laugh. “Spelling your name backward actually makes a very nice Zabrak name.
Miran shook her head. “Luvari, this is Vranox. Vran, this is Luvari and her son, Bilyk. She helped me escape the authorities on Coruscant.”
“We helped each other escape,” Luvari corrected.
“I am glad to know you,” he said graciously as they walked quickly along. “I wish I could say that I was here to deliver a ship as I had intended, but there was a slight delay.” He noted the look the two women exchanged. “Not to worry. There is a ship. It needs more work than I was originally made aware of. My daughter is bringing it to our home on Iridonia. I will take you there.
“How much work?” Miran asked skeptically.
Vranox brushed her off as he lowered the ramp to his small ship. “Nothing that cannot be fixed.” He could feel the look Miran was giving him even under her helmet. “Truthfully, it is in very bad condition. My daughter and son are excellent mechanics, but the ship needs you, Miran. It is flying on sub-light only, and the shield generators are not operating strongly enough to repel an insect.”
“Sounds like a job for Dr. Hyperdrive,” Luvari noted with a wink in Miran’s direction.
Miran walked aboard with Spanner on her heels and took off her helmet. “Any ship they aren’t looking for will be a vast improvement. Thank you for helping us, Vran.” He gave her a quick nod and headed to the controls.
“Looks like we will be training on Iridonia then,” Luvari observed as she lowered Bilyk from the harness and stretched her back.
Miran took the ring box from her belt and tossed it to her. “And then we get to work.”
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Rotation 22 as a Bad Batcher, Entry 8
Today was really exciting! A bunch of bounty hunters were after my brothers on their supply mission, and we just barely got out in time. One of the bounty hunters was a woman named Cayna. She got hurt badly, so we brought her along. They tried to keep me out of the way while they treated her, but I saw it anyway. It was awful. Her side had a wide-open burned spot and I think I saw part of one of her ribs. She should be in a bacta tank, but we don’t have one. I wish we did. I’m sure that’s what Nala Se would have done with someone that injured. Tech patched her up and put me in charge of guarding her while she slept. It felt nice to be trusted like that. Cayna’s very pretty. She has really dark brown hair like Hunter and her skin is the same shade as mine. I wonder if I should grow my hair longer. I bet I would look intimidating with a bandana.
My brothers didn’t want to trust her, but that’s where it got really interesting. She helps clones! She goes after the bounty hunters that are after the clones and helps the clones to not get caught! I wasn’t sure I believed her at first. It sounded very suspicious, but it turned out she was telling the truth! There were files on her data pad that proved it. The strangest thing of all was that she recognized Echo! She met him when he looked like all the other regs and still knew who he was when she saw him today. She said she knew him by his eyes. Echo’s face turned red when she said that. That part was funny, but I still wonder how she knew him by his eyes. It doesn’t make sense.
ToucheHolland23 made some super-cute art of Luvari, Bilyk, and Miran!
Look at his happy little face! I just wanna squeeze those little indigo cheeks!