Chapter Text
Rex sat at the long table across from his younger cousin Crosshair, trying not to remember that he was technically a nephew. Which meant Rex was old.
Omega reminded him of that fact the second they met, and her brothers often ribbed him about it. He sat at the table, eyeing small hills of root vegetables he had to prepare for her verd'goten feast. She chose to have ïsa'muni' for the main meal, which meant the humble staples of meat and vegetables had to be cooked in a t'racyn'vheh underground, in wire basket trays.
To Rex's surprise and concern, Crosshair opted to help out in the kitchen rather than engage with the ceremony. At all. It seemed he didn't have the stamina for big family events these days.
Rex thought it was a shame. Omega was one of the few Fett children in recent generations to have an actual verd'goten. Before that, they all did equivalent assessments at their schools, military or otherwise. Looking back on it, the Equivs were rather soulless and only served one purpose. Proper verd'goten celebrations were something to be remembered.
Several of their family members, including Numa and Plo Koon, promised to perform for Omega's celebration, to express pride in her growth into a young adult.
Crosshair used to love dancing in the karyai when no one was around, saber glinting under soft-glow lights in the inky darkness. He would sneak out just to do it, and let everyone think he was running around in the streets. Rex figured if anyone could make him dust off the old sword, it would be Omega. But it wasn't to be.
The pair obliged themselves to kitchen duties at the local Mandalorian cultural centre, which doubled as a vheh'yaim for the moment. A Clan Home for the sprawling Fett aliit.
It was convenient for the large number of people who travelled into Ord Mantell from around the world. But Rex was sure the mattress storage room and new fresher block extension weren't exactly regulation. They were built fairly recently, just after Omega's announcement six months ago.
Luckily for them, Ord Mantell's city council had incentive to look the other way, if they even knew about it.
It'd be a good call, given how many skilled Mandalorians were building their new suburbs from the ground up. The clans learned through hard lessons that it was easier to break for a new city, rather than kowtow to local authority. And after everything the Fetts went through with the Republic, the least they could do was give them all a break.
"So, how was Pabu?" Rex ventured to the ex-sniper.
The man grimaced around his toothpick. "Quiet."
Rex hummed. He knew Pabu was a small island located in a forgotten stretch of Naboolian sea, and Tech's spam posts confirmed its quiet beauty. The walled island town shone like a beacon on a stormy, blue night. In that sense, it was so much different from Kamino.
Crosshair's siblings had holed themselves up there some months ago. During that time Rex's cousins would return to the wider world every so often, via Ourspace; touting pictures of pretty wildlife, landscapes, and curations for the local Archium. Tech didn't seem happy about returning to Ord Mantell full time. In all honesty, none of the Batch were too keen on it, except for Crosshair.
As soon as the thought crossed his mind, Rex knew they did it for him.
The island was a special place, filled with refugees from all over. Even places Rex had never heard of. And it served to blanket its citizens with a summer warmth and tranquillity unparalleled, despite damaged sustained in the lower village. But peace wasn't necessarily conducive to a soldier's mindset. Rex knew that first hand.
The pair peeled sweet tubers and potatoes with expert precision, making long, clean shaves with paring knives. Outside the kitchen, voices hollered and floorboards pattered with the ambient din of life. Rex couldn't tell if the shrieks of laughter outside came from playing ade or the ori'ade preparing the cooking pits for Omega's celebration, which perhaps meant that productivity levels were dwindling.
Casting a gentle gaze at his blank wall of a cousin, Rex realised something. Crosshair had grown his hair out. Aside from the shaved sides, it was long enough to slick over his head like an inshore wave, instead of the windblown turf he had before. And soon, he'd have a coiff to rival Howzer's.
Crosshair ran the back of his hand over freshly dyed strands. The right side of his head was scarred from that one mission gone bad in Bracca, and seeing it curled Rex's insides. He decided against being judgemental. It was fair to say, the Fetts as a whole had done worse than hunt down a few deserters during their collective military stints.
Anyway, Rex thought, a pit opening in his chest. What are a few war crimes between Mandalorians?
His fingers ghosted over the serial number on his neck, absentmindedly. So lost in thought was he, it took a moment for Rex to become cognizant of the silence. Of Crosshair's faraway look.
He turned his head and whistled out like a hawk. At his call, a small herd of boots clambered through the open doorway leading from the fire stack out back.
Wolffe popped through the wide door frame, grumbling, "What's up?"
Sweat glimmered on his skin, and he held the knife handle on his belt like a wandering Knight from the drama's.
"It's kriffing quiet in here," Rex chuckled.
"What are you lazy shebse up to?"
Wolffe's left eye twitched, leaving it up to Rex to suppress a reaction. "We're observing the fire."
"Observing"…
Ever the Captain, Rex raised an eyebrow, "You're watching wood burn while the food isn't even prepped, yet?"
"Wayii, calm your farm. We just finished it." His cousin waved a tea towel at the others, "C'mon, Sinker. Fives!"
A group of Fetts stood in the doorway looking lost; and they marched in slowly, save Fives. He stood there in a weird stance, tying a blue plaid shirt around his waist like a kama. The shebs slipped away from the door with a cheeky laugh, and Rex assumed he was about to run off. But he returned just as quickly. A blaring speaker rested like a log on his shoulder.
Fives wore a kark eating grin as he marched in time to the music, which was slow and had a telltale accent on the offbeat.
For some reason, Gungan music was very popular in Concord Dawn. And damn near every house gave a framed Bob Marlee picture pride of place somewhere on their walls. Without a word, some of that love trickled down to the diaspora.
"Fucking hell ."
Apparently, Crosshair missed the memo.
Cross bore a sneering grin as Fives mouthed, "I wanna love you… and treat you right."
He set the speaker on a bench and dodged people trying to actually help with their preparation tasks. Boost started chopping the pumpkin and peeled tubers, looking right at home amongst the vegetables with his haircut. At that moment, Rex thought it looked like a ploughed field.
Fives scooched in next to Crosshair, nudging him. "How do you not like Uncle Bob? You can't be from C-Dawn, you're a kriffing joke."
"None of us are from CD, dick," Crosshair muttered.
"Says you."
Cross didn't deign to respond, and Fives made a great show of confusion. "Maker, tooka got your tongue?"
Sinker chuckled from beside Rex, "Oh, leave him. Tooka probably ate a bad mouse or something."
"Go to hell, Sinker."
Crosshair didn't laugh, but his eyes glimmered with a complex level of amusement, possibly because Crosshair always preened when being compared to felines. He didn't know Sinker too well, but the man made him almost snort a couple times, so he'd decided to tolerate him.
~~
Wolffe carried a tray of Roba meat from the cool room, quietly nodding along to the music as he set it down on the bench. The table was already laden with dry rubbed poultry and goat. He worked alongside Comet and Boost, placing meat into the lined trays.
Wolffe looked toward Rex's table. "Hey Cross, when does Omega get here?"
"Two-thirty," he answered. "She made her way back to camp yesterday morning, now she's resting."
"Did she catch anything good?"
Crosshair shrugged. "We'll see when she gets back."
He sounded smug, which meant she must've hunted something particularly interesting. It spoke to her skill, if she was healthy enough to go through with the celebration after living in the desert for three days.
Rex glanced up, "Oh, Wolffe. That reminds me, Felix is flying in from Corrie this afternoon. Kote said he's sleeping next to you."
"Ugh, kark off. Why me?"
The Corrie guard was overworked and underappreciated by the Senators he had to work with. But once his vode got ahold of him, they allowed him to relax under the warm pressure of a cuddle pile. How long and peaceful his rest was depended on the amount of caf he'd consumed that day, which was usually a lot.
Hence why Cody decided not to take chances on being jostled, and placed himself closer to Rex on the other side of the sleeping area. Whether he actually slept there was another question entirely.
But Rex didn't get to quip at Wolffe about his brother's sleeping habits, because he was interrupted.
"Who the fuck is Felix?" Crosshair hissed, expression matched by the others.
Rex blinked, bemused. "It's Fox. How did you not know that?"
"We're not ancient like you," his cousin (nephew) snorted, plopping a spud into a water-filled bowl. "We don't know everybody's real name."
Fives whispered to himself, eyebrows raised. "Felix…?"
The others glanced at him, and then each other. Fox and Fives made peace after the latter was acquitted of treason, but... they were taking baby steps.
Fives shrugged off his thoughts with a laugh. "I was gonna say, who names their kid Fox?"
Crosshair rolled his eyes. "Who names their kid Fives ?"
The man in question paused mid chop, head swivelling at an incremental pace so he could eyeball Crosshair and make him sweat.
"Wait, what was your name again, Cross?" Fives grinned impishly.
"Uh…"
"'cause I remember when people used to call you-"
"Dos, " Crosshair tried. "It's Dos."
"Lani!" Fives damn near howled. "Doslani, don't you fucking lie to me, voda. I lived with you!"
Sinker's eyes widened. He clearly hadn't heard this. He and Fives started giggling like teenagers. Fives elbowed Crosshair, who stubbornly maintained his Sabacc face, despite the tips of his ears turning pink.
"All the fine Mando'ade used to call you Lani. I remember that."
Crosshair's eyes rolled again when he said, "Gar slaat."
Rex had half a mind to tell Fives off, but he just kept going, knife flicks highlighting his point.
"I also remember Kala Ma kicked your ass after you hit on their riduur in high school."
At that, Crosshair sighed. "We were teenagers, how was I meant to know they were serious?"
"He was your bandmate!"
Rex held in a chuckle, just barely. "Alright, we have to set the food down soon. Stay on task."
&-&
Altogether, their cluster of helpers started to finish off the trays. They washed off the vegetables and stacked them in place. Crosshair handled the sweet tubers and spuds, while Sinker tried to help. But, he seemed distracted.
"Hey, Rex," Sinker muttered. "You know things."
"That's one way to put it," Rex grinned, somewhat confused.
Crosshair nudged Sinker to continue working, so he did, but he ended up dropping a tuber into the pumpkin basket. "Uh, what's your theory on why we all have nicknames?
"You mean, besides the fact you're all clowns?"
Sink chuckled along with the others, then he shrugged. "I'm being serious."
It seemed he was, so Rex gave it some thought.
"Well... In our aliit, there are different types of names. One is a given name, gai'dinui. Another is one that you take, gai'hibï."
"What's your gai'dinui?"
"It's Rex. Obviously."
"Right. What about Gregor?"
"Gregor."
"Boil?"
Fives sucked his teeth, "I asked him one time, and he told me to shove it, so..."
"Well, in that case, I'm not telling you."
Crosshair snorted as Sinker snapped his fingers in defeat.
"C'mon, Rex!"
"That's Captain, to you, di'kutika."
Wolffe cut a glance at Crosshair. "Hey, voda. What's Hunter's gai'dinui?"
Crosshair chewed on his toothpick for a moment, before he answered, "Roya."
Since Cross was feeling so talkative, Comet tried his luck. "What about Wrecker?"
At that, Crosshair paused. The group waited, almost certain he wouldn't reply. But he bit out, "Jarid."
"Hey, Fives-"
"Maker, why don't you mind your business?"
Comet wilted a little at Crosshair's tone. "Wayii... Fine."
Wolffe glared at Cross, but he didn't notice. He seemed to sink into his own thoughts. So, Rex motioned for his vod to settle down, watching until he did so. Wolffe elbowed Comet gently as they continued with their task.
&-&
The boys all stood outside, scuffing up dust. Their metre wide pit had soil laid down inside, water drizzled over it to help the desert earth generate some extra moisture. They worked in tandem to seperate ash from the hot irons so they could lay them down in the pit. Wrecker scored the irons from a junk shop, so the Batch wouldn't have to waste time trying to source rocks that wouldn't explode. The pieces came from an old train track.
After the irons were laid, the group placed cabbage leaves on top of them, to help with the cooking process, along with the wire baskets filled with meat. The vegetable trays were placed above the meat, since they cooked faster, along with some foil parcels filled with stuffing.
Rex's mouth began to water as he imagined biting into delicious, petal soft morsels of flesh. T'racyn'vheh tasted like the earth, and it was unlike anything he'd come across in his travels. Better than that, it tasted closer to home than any slop they served on duty or in Tipoca.
Rex stood next to Wolffe, closer than others would dare, so he could feel his presence. Wolffe led them in their job of laying the wet burlap over the meat, to steam the food. Once it was covered properly, they started shoveling dirt over the food.
"Kúna," Wolffe noted to himself. "That's a good name."
Crosshair lifted his head, eyes widened in curiosity, only to see the man's face shutter. He hadn't meant to say that out loud.
Wolffe continued shoveling dirt over the layers of sack, when he felt eyes on him. Fives, Boost, Sinker, Comet and Rex shared meaningful looks, and upon glancing at his vode, Wolffe realised they were imploring him to play ball. It was sad to say, but they may never get moments like this again.
He answered Crosshair's questioning look with an eye roll. "It's from Koon, as in Plo."
Crosshair eyed him dubiously. In fact, they all joined in, as well. Was Wolffe about to name his future child, or something?
Heh. That'd be the day.
Cross wiped his hands on his jeans and asked. "Alright, what does Koon mean?"
After a moment of keen observation, Rex remembered that he had, in fact, heard several conversations start out like this, and end in shouting matches.
He held a hand out toward his cousin, "Uh, Wolffe, maybe you shouldn't answer-"
Without seeming to hear Rex's warning, Wolffe replied, haughtily. "It means 'explorer' in Kel Dorian."
Then Wolffe returned to shoveling and packing down the dirt. He seemed proud of himself, until Crosshair clicked his fingers and pointed his toothpick.
"Like Dora."
Fives chirped. "Oh, that's a nice name."
"What's a nice name?!"
Ignoring his former CO's outburst, Boost turned to Cross, leaning on his shovel a bit. "Like, Dora...the Explorer?"
"That's the one," Cross replied, giving the mound one last smack with his own shovel.
Wolffe growled, "That's not what I said!"
"Dor'ika," Comet chimed in, he looked like a lightbulb had lit up over his head. "That's mesh'la ."
Even Sinker had something to say about it. "Y'know, it sounds like 'Keldeorinya'."
"It sounds nothing like that!"
As the argument picked up, Rex couldn't help but facepalm at his cousins' outbursts. Fingers were pointed, cool, loose dirt was thrown out of spite, and to Rex's amusement, Wolffe looked frustrated and absolutely pissed.
"Well, now you know why we don't have 'real names'." He muttered, seemingly to himself. "Di'kute ."
Wolffe objected to his cousins' twittering as they all at once realised what the issue was, when it came to naming the children in their family.
Their family members were idiots.
~~
"So, his name isn't Gotala?"
"Sinker… You thought Tech's name was Technology? "
"It's a natural assumption!"
"For whom?"
Fives snorted. "Maker, vod... Can you believe this guy, Crosshair?"
" I know, right? Looks like, his brain cell is lonely… "
"Hey!"