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The day's agenda had been pieced together rather smoothly, which Vuarum mused was an occurrence as rare as picking an engineered Csaplar clover out of Rentor's ice. He'd awoken naturally without interruption, brewed some morning caf with the luxury of drinking it while it was still hot (no chaos to attend to that would have required him to leave it), and even managed to plan out a mission from beginning to end with a clear and concise mind. Such a thing hadn't been possible since…well, he knew the reason. That reason, ironically, left him feeling particularly anxious as the suspicious peace he'd been reveling in continued to draw on; and as the feeling creeped into his consciousness the longer he leisured, he became all the more aware of how the silence was never a good sign.
He sighed.
"Hel?" He called into the Drekis' engine room.
Met only with more silence, Vuarum pressed on into his child's room to find it empty, save for the mess of tools and battered toys lying about. No pitter-patters or last-second rumblings could be heard to indicate their whereabouts, which in most cases gave away the four-year-old's mischievous ploys before they could be seen through and sanity could thusly be preserved.
This, however, had all the indications of a headache in the making.
"Hel," the Chiss called again, this time a little more firmly. "Don't make me fart on your pillow. I had extra cream in my caf this mornin' and I've got one brewin' just for you if you don't come out."
Clang !
The sound echoed from his own quarters, frantic and stealthless in the way that could only be caused by a kid who already knew they were in for it. Vuarum smirked as he opened the hatch door to the room he normally shared with his special friend, Thott. Immediately, he could see the infrared heat signatures of tiny handprints all over the drawers.
Truly, the meiloorun never fell too far from the tree.
"Hel?"
It hadn't been entirely necessary to call for them again, seeing as he could simply follow the mess of tubes and bottles that had been knocked over leading into the refresher. Another clamor was heard as the sound of rushing water was silenced and the tap of little feet indiscreetly hitting the floor soon followed with the slam of a cabinet. Vuarum entered the space to find an even larger mess of all sorts of colorful streaks coating every surface of the mirror and countertop, and the remains of what were clearly makeup bottles and tubes that had been ransacked from Thott's vanity littered the floor in the most sparklingly grotesque manner. He winced as his eyes darted about the scene.
"Oof. Alright, bud. Let's see it."
An upset, muffled whine responded in kind.
"Hel. C'mon."
A small, reluctant grayish hand pushed the cabinet door aside, and Vuarum couldn't help but snicker and snort as his child's mess of a face came into view. Hel had clearly attempted to wipe some of their creative handiwork off with a towel, yet the atrocity of it remained stagnant.
"It looked better before!" They relayed with a pinch of hurt in their little voice as they crawled out from their hiding spot.
"I'm not knockin' it," Vuarum explained with an enthused grin, then gestured across the floor, "But, look around. Why'd you get into Mom's stuff without asking?"
"She's not here," Hel retorted flatly as they continued to crudely wipe their face with a damp towel, which only left the products on in smears.
"Sure, but that doesn't mean you can just take her things. You could’ve asked me. I have makeup too, ya know."
As their dad calmly reached into one of the drawers and pulled out a pack of makeup wipes, Hel scoffed.
" You have makeup?"
"Sure I do. I just don't always wear it."
He rummaged through another drawer and pulled out a dusty toiletry bag, then emptied out its contents onto the countertop. The products had clearly long passed their expiration dates, evidenced by a jar of concealer that had presumably once been Vuarum’s periwinkle skin tone now all dried up into a cracked puck. With a great amount of effort, he yanked the wand portion of a tube of old mascara from being stuck inside the solidified substance with a grunt, a puff of black dust wafting from the nasty bristles as he did so.
“Huh. Guess it’s been a while,” He rumbled with a smidge of disappointment.
Hel frowned as Vuarum cleaned up his own mess, seemingly eager to get back to the topic at hand.
“But why can’t I use hers? We take stuff from people all the time."
"Yeah, but…" Vuarum sighed. The kid had a point. "That's everyone else. We don't steal from family, alright? Especially when it's stuff that's personal and as hard to get as this."
Hel winced as Vuarum carefully brought a wipe to their cheek and removed some of the contrasting blue and black pigments from their face, leaving fresh slate skin behind.
"What makes it so hard to get?"
"Well, first of all, it's from Csilla. They don't make makeup for Chiss here, bud, not even on Coruscant. Second, it was from a really expensive place."
"Bet you still stole it, though. And I bet it's easier to get than the artifacts Papa wants."
Vuarum rubbed at his forehead in exasperation and exhaled for what felt like the hundredth time.
"That's not the point, Hel. Look, this is all ruined, now. You ruined Mom's makeup. What do you have to say for yourself?"
Hel pursed their lips for a moment as their parent removed the rest of the product from their face, then merely shrugged.
"If she didn't want me to use it by myself, she should've been here to help me."
Vuarum paused, then grimaced. Every now and then, that Ro gene surfaced in mildly unsettling ways.
"She has a very good reason for not being here, ya know."
Hel rolled their eyes and mumbled under their breath.
"'Cause she's still taking care of the dumb babies I never asked for."
" Hel ."
"What?"
Patience hadn't always come naturally to him. Rather, he'd never had more than a thimble full of it in his entire being before he'd gotten closer to Thott, then subsequently gained more and more after becoming a parent. Now, especially in moments like these, he could look into his child's face and see the reflection of himself that behaved so eerily similar around the same age and graciously empathize. Unlike his own father, Vuarum was determined to be the kind of figure his progeny needed.
He sat down on the hard floor and crossed his legs, his prosthetic one atop his right as he beckoned Hel over to sit with him. They did. After a beat, he spoke up again.
"I know you love her and wish she could be here on the ship with us," he began. "I do, too. But, it takes a lot of time and work to do what she does, and the babies are too little to live in here right now. The ship is too dangerous."
Hel huffed.
"Then why am I on the ship?"
"'Cause you're older and you can handle it," Vuarum revealed with a smile that proved contagious. "Besides, I can't do all these missions myself."
“That’s fine,” the child began, their smile fading, “But how come she can’t come read to me? Or spar with me? Or teach me makeup? Even just for a little bit?”
The Chiss offered his child a solemn, yet comforting grin as he held them by the shoulder.
“I’m sure the time she has left over after taking care of ‘Ki and ‘Kae is spent resting,” He explained. “I promise she isn’t avoiding us. She did just have ‘em a couple weeks ago.”
Hel’s lip twitched at the mention of their twin half-siblings.
“I feel like I haven’t seen her in forever,” They admitted. “Or Bios. I miss them.”
“It’s only been a few days,” Vuarum explained, “But I know how you feel. It’s hard having her on the entire other side of a planet this big, huh?”
The moment compelled him to rub their arm affectionately, and soon after, the young one began to discreetly sniffle. Paternal instinct invited him to open up and take the tiny half-Chiss into his embrace, and the latter buried their head into the crook of his neck as they continued to shiver and cry.
“I miss Mom…”
Vuarum held his offspring with care, his heart filled with sympathy.
“I know, bud. Me too. You know, I need to run some errands, anyway. Apparently I’m in need of new makeup, and so are you and Mom. Maybe we could, I dunno…grab some Biscuit Baron, head to the store, then go pay her and the babies a visit…?”
Hel’s head darted up immediately, tears entirely absent from their deep red eyes.
“For real?!”
“For real. When was the last time we got you a Jolly Meal?”
The child shot up onto their feet excitedly and gasped with all the elation in the galaxy.
“Like, an entire week ago!” They exclaimed with delight, skipping in a circle around their father. “Dad, we’re really gonna see her? And get me my own makeup?”
“Sure,” Vuarum chuckled sardonically, “You can have your own if it’ll keep you from messing with ours.”
Hel flashed their pointed teeth in a wide, open-mouthed grin and shrieked at a decibel that made Vuarum flinch.
"I'll go get ready!"
" Ah-aht !" The Chiss chided as he blocked the little fireball with his leg while he stood, then spun them around to face the mirror. "You have a mess to clean up, first."
"But Daaaad—"
"No 'buts', butthead. Always fix your mess before you make a new one, remember?"
A series of anticipated grumbles and whines immediately followed as Hel began to trudge back over to the sink. They pivoted with a frown and pointed a tiny stern finger at their father’s face.
"Your butthead is way bigger than mine."
Vuarum reached a hand up to touch the ridges on his forehead with a smirk.
"Yeah, and it's sexy . Your mom loves my forehead butt."
"Gross—"
"She'll press our buttheads together and make a double forehead butt while we kiss—"
"Ew! Fine! I'll clean!"
Their dad cackled to himself as his visibly disgusted child attempted to shake off the mental image provided to them like a flea. After a moment, his tone changed to something more serious again.
“One more thing. I need you to stay by my side the entire time, got it? No running off, not even for a second. The lower levels are way too dangerous. Hold my hand or my shirt whenever we’re on the move.”
“Aw, come on. Do I have to?”
Vuarum casually shrugged and closed his eyes.
“Or I can carry you around in the baby harness. I’m fine either way.”
“I’m not a baby ,” Hel protested. “Ugh, fine .”
“That’s the spirit. It’ll take me twenty-ish minutes to get ready, so this’d better be clean by then. Love ya, bud!”
As if summoned, KL-60 soon appeared in the doorway. Vuarum gently nudged the protocol droid and leaned in to quietly speak.
"We both know what they'll try to pull. Don't fall for it, yeah?"
"Not a chance," KL's androgynous voice retorted.
After their master gave them a pat on the shoulder and departed, the droid stepped into the refresher to find Hel acting convincingly helpless on their tiptoes.
"Kayell, will you help me?" Hel squeaked innocently.
"I am only here to supervise," They responded monotonously.
Hel pouted, then turned and made a rather pitiful show of how their tiny stature prevented them from reaching everything, grunting and huffing all the while.
"I can't reach, Kayell. It's not fair! I need help."
"Certainly."
For a brief moment, the child smirked with satisfaction in finding a workaround, and extended their hand holding the cloth to the droid in invitation. That smugness faded as soon as KL's metal appendages locked beneath either of Hel's armpits and lifted the little menace to be perfectly level with the countertop.
“The criteria for efficiency are now met,” KL relayed.
Hel’s groan was audible even from the cockpit of the Drekis , where Vuarum was plotting out his maneuvers for the day. He grinned widely as he looked in the direction of the sound, then set his questis aside in order to continue dressing inconspicuously, sinful as it was to cover his beautiful Nihil self. Better to be safe than sorry.
Especially with such precious cargo.
~