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It had been an extremely long day. No, an extremely long week.
Cal couldn’t help but lie back in the co-pilot seat of the Stinger Mantis and close his eyes, chasing just one moment of rest as Greez set down the ship in a hangar bay located on a planet he was too tired to remember the name of.
There was a collective exhaustion that settled in the cockpit of the Mantis that even BD-1 was affected by, and the little droid let out a low, drawn out chirp that Cal interpreted as: “I could do with a rest.”
“Yeah, me too, buddy.” He replied, roughly running a hand through his hair.
Cal opened his eyes with a sigh. “You think we lost them?”
He didn’t direct his question at anyone specific, but Cere’s voice sounded behind him from where she sat in her seat.
“I hope so. It’ll be a couple of hours at least till we find out if the Haxion Brood managed to follow us here. I say we lay low for a while, gather ourselves and take the time to rest before heading back out there.”
Greez turned his pilot’s seat around to face her. “And while we’re parked up here, maybe stock up on supplies? I’m only saying 'cause I’m running out of things to feed you guys with.”
“That could be a risk,” Merrin spoke up, her words undercut with fatigue. “We may have briefly managed to outrun the Brood, but if we leave the ship and they find us whilst we’re out there, things could get complicated.”
Merrin had a point, but things were already complicated.
They had been evading the Haxion Brood for a week with little success. A Brood bounty hunter had picked up on their trail near the Kessel Sector and ever since then, the Mantis Crew had been on the run, trying to lose him as they moved from place to place in the Outer Rim.
It wasn’t exactly anything new as the Haxion Brood were always hunting them, and usually they were able to shake off or even take down the brutes that Sorc Tormo sent after them. But this particular hunter just wouldn’t seem to give up, always managing to show up at their location not long after they’d arrived. It was Cal who eventually suggested that maybe they should head closer towards the Core and away from the Outer Rim in a last ditch effort to get rid of him.
Of course, the further they moved into the known galaxy, the more risk they put themselves in as the Empire’s presence leached out from Coruscant, the planets closest to it having the most Imperial presence, the Mid Rim being no exception.
However the Outer Rim was proving to be too tricky to navigate safely, and the crew were banking on the bounty hunter expecting to find them there and his unwillingness to venture further towards the Core. They all hoped that this move would finally throw the hunter off their scent and put enough distance between them.
Although, Cal would've much rather have gone head to head with a Haxion Brood mercenary than a legion of Purge Troopers…
Cere mulled over Merrin’s concerns in her head before drawing them all in to explain their next move.
“Alright, here’s the plan: we all go together to find supplies, come straight back to the ship, rest and then take it day by day. I’m sure we’d all feel more comfortable waiting to see if we’ve really lost this bounty hunter.”
The rest of the crew weakly nodded their heads, trying to stave off any tiredness, and set out to the nearest shopping district to stock up on some well needed rations.
As they disembarked the Mantis, Cal heard Greez grumble a few words under his breath.
“I just hope there’s a bar on this planet because I could really use a drink.”
A part of Cal found himself agreeing with the Latero.
The crew eventually found a market place situated not too far from the hangar bay where they’d landed, which Cal took to be a good thing because it meant they could quickly get back to the ship should they suddenly have to make a run for it.
As they walked through the crowded street, it soon became aware to all of them that they’d landed in the seedier part of town, and Cal imagined that the district’s days of prosperity were long gone. If Greez had been serious about getting that drink he would definitely have an easy time finding it here.
Elongated rows of stone and steel buildings of various heights lined each side of the path they walked on, clearly having seen better days. Neon lights fixed to the side of the buildings bathed the area in bright colours, the light reflecting in murky puddles that littered the ground. The scent in the air was an interesting mixture of smoke that rose out of stacks atop the roofs, and a wide array of different foods being prepared and cooked in carts and restaurants along the street. Beings of all sorts of species bustled about around them, bartering with stall tenders and shouting at one another to move out the way in a myriad of dialects.
Cal’s eyes darted around the space, searching for any sign of a looming Imperial insignia or the flash white of stormtrooper armour but thankfully, he couldn’t find what he was looking for. Perhaps the Imps thought this district was rough enough that it could handle itself. Or maybe they were too scared to venture into this part of town. Given the nature of the environment, Cal couldn’t blame them, and he let his musings about the lack of Imperial presence sink to the back of his mind.
BD-1 could be found perched in his regular spot looking over Cal’s shoulder, chirping and beeping curiously at all the potential scans he could add to his databank as Cere led the group, snaking her way through the droves whilst the others followed, not wanting to get separated from each other.
On one occasion, Merrin had to practically yank Greez back when he stopped to marvel at a stall of fruit, reminding him that they had to be practical about which foods they took back with them.
“I know! I know! I just haven’t seen such a perfect batch of meilooruns in months. I could’ve whipped up somethin’ real special with those.” He lamented, and Cal couldn’t help but snort, covering up the sound with the back of his hand.
His laughter was cut short however when he made unintentional eye contact with a purple skinned Mirialan woman leaning out of an open door, watching him with fervent eyes, her black hair hanging loosely down her back and a shawl wrapped around her bare shoulders. She took a long draw of the ciggara she held between her fingers and flashed Cal a racy smile before shouting something in his direction in a language he couldn’t decipher.
He quickly averted his gaze and quickened his pace, suddenly feeling the back of his neck heat up. To his side, he heard Merrin let out a rare laugh.
“Why are you laughing? You know what she said?” The words left his lips in a rapid panic, not even questioning how or when Merrin learned the language that the woman spoke.
Merrin composed herself and looked Cal dead in the eye. “She said that if you find yourself without a place to rest tonight, you’re more than welcome to sleep with her.”
Cal then wished he never asked Merrin for a translation at all as his blush intensified, creeping up his neck and seeping into the rest of his face. He chose not to respond to Merrin as he shoved his head down and kept walking as she struggled to contain her laughter. BD-1 then sounded a series of noises that could only be described as the droid equivalent of cackling, and Cal shot his friend a glare over his shoulder before looking back down at the ground. He was supposed to be on Cal’s side, after all!
Finally, Cere stopped in front of a stall that sold not just food, but other wares as well. She and Greez started to pick out various items, exchanging a few words with the Ugnaught who stood behind the cart whilst Cal and Merrin hung back, continuing to take in the bustling street.
Before crossing paths with Cere and Greez, Cal hadn’t frequented many places like this in his life, but the scrapyards he endured on Bracca were remarkably similar in a few ways. At least when it came to the noise, the colourful array of people, and tightly fit spaces. But besides the rambunctious and somewhat lewd behaviour of its inhabitants, the market made for a welcome change of pace after having been holed up in the Mantis for days, even if it was seedy.
Merrin especially seemed to be in total awe of the environment, and even though Cal went through moments when he felt that the entire street was an assault on the senses, she didn’t seem to be affected by it at all, in fact she embraced it, apparently forgetting how tired she had been when they had landed.
Cal watched as she lit up at every new thing that appeared in her line of sight, and it took him aback to see the Nightsister, who was usually so reserved and serious, become almost thrilled at the prospect of traversing through a shopping district. Although, her reactions began to make sense when Cal remembered that she’d never taken a single step on a planet that wasn’t her home of Dathomir for nineteen years, and he just continued to watch as Merrin took in every aspect of their surroundings, the corner of his mouth turning upwards slightly at the sight.
He’d only known her for a handful of months, but after everything they had been through together, it felt like much longer. It didn’t take BD-1 much to immediately consider Merrin as one his most treasured friends, and even Cere and Greez, who had been so distrusting of her at the start, had eventually warmed up to her. The five of them had settled into a regular rhythm with each other, they looked out for one another, and as more time passed, their dynamic began to resemble that of a family, not the crew of a ship. Of course, Cal thought, they really were the only thing resembling family that he had.
BD-1 pulled him out his reverie then, tapping him on the shoulder lightly as Cere turned away from the stall owner, her bag heavy from the supplies she’d purchased. Greez held multiple bags in his hands, making use of the four arms that adorned every Latero.
“I’d say we have enough now to keep us going for a little while longer,” She declared, once again gathering the others around her. “Let’s head back to the ship and settle down for a well deserved rest.”
Cal nodded in silent agreement as he offered to shoulder one of the bags Greez held, and the small group began to make their way back to the Mantis.
However, after walking for a total of five minutes, Greez suddenly stopped in the middle of the street and turned to stare at the building on his left side. He called out to the others to grab their attention.
“Hey, everyone! Before headin’ back to the Mantis, why don’t we make one more pit stop and grab some some seat here?”
Cal, Merrin and Cere turned their eyes to the building Greez was referring to, and Cal heard Cere let out an exasperated sigh when she caught sight of it. The building housed a bar.
“Looks inviting.” Merrin stated dryly, whilst Cal raised his eyebrow at the suggestion.
“You mean go in to actually sit down, or go in to have a drink?” He questioned.
“Both!” Greez replied jovially, as though this idea of his was the greatest idea that anyone had ever conjured up in the history of the galaxy.
A disapproving expression began to set in on Cere’s face as she further inspected the establishment; it was just as dishevelled looking as the rest of the street it was located on. The door was closed but loud music combined with the raucous shouting and laughter from the bar’s patrons could be heard from the outside, along with the sound of a glass shattering to the floor. This enticed a cheer from the bar-goers, however it only cemented Cere’s determination to not go inside.
“Greez, no,” She affirmed sternly. “We need to get back to the ship.”
Greez looked practically heartbroken over her dismissal as he continued to fight his corner.
“Oh, c’mon, Cere! You said it yourself. We all deserve a rest after the week we’ve had. Heck, we deserve it after the life we’ve had.”
“We are not entering this bar,” Cere replied, refusing to back down. “Besides, Cal and Merrin aren’t old enough.”
“They’re practically adults! Lighten up. One drink won’t hurt ‘em! Look, it’s been a stressful time for our little group, and I think a nice drink would do us all some good. That’s all.” And Greez raised all four of his arms as if he were surrendering to accentuate his point.
Cal had to admit, there was a sincerity in the way in which Greez spoke. In his own, strange way, it was just him showing that he cared about them all. And to be honest, the opportunity to just sit in a bar and pretend the entire galaxy didn’t want him dead for just a second was sounding more desirable to him by the minute. He was tired, yes, but when had they ever had the chance to do something that didn’t involve putting themselves in life-threatening situations?
He looked over at Cere who was clearly thinking over Greez’s proposal in her head, her lips pursed in thought. She glanced back at Cal and Merrin and was met with wishful eyes, hoping that she’d say yes.
Without saying anything, Cere focused her gaze on Cal, as though she was asking for his opinion. He only replied with a casual shrug of his shoulders.
Cere took in a deep breath then, and let it out in the form of a defeated sigh.
“Alright. We’ll go in for one drink. But after that, it’s straight back to the ship.”
Greez let out a triumphant cheer, clapping two of his hands together, his mouth set into a huge grin.
“Haha, now we’re cookin’!” He exclaimed, and he began to lead the way into the bar, BD-1 sharing his elation in the form of a high-pitched trill.
Cal Kestis was definitely drunk.
Okay, that was an exaggeration. He wasn’t that drunk, but he was most certainly feeling the effects of the alcohol.
He couldn’t recall the moment when he'd crossed over the threshold, leaving behind his sober state and welcoming his intoxicated one. Perhaps it was three drinks ago? Four? For Greez it was at least eight, but by that point he had honestly lost track, and Cal didn’t know how long the five of them had been sitting in the bar.
It didn’t help that when Cere wasn’t looking or when she went to use the restroom, Greez had kept shoving shot glasses filled with a bright blue liquid into his hand, ushering him to down them quickly before she returned or noticed what Greez was doing. The shots had tasted sour but left a sweet aftertaste on his tongue. He struggled to remember exactly what Greez said it was, but Cal reached a certain point where he stopped wondering and just went along with it.
They all sat in a booth tucked away in the corner of the bar, with BD-1 making a space for himself on the table. The lighting was dim, save for some small oval shaped lights that lined the walls, some of which even had blaster marks scorched into them - Cere’s eyes widened in concern when she noticed those, but Greez insisted that the scorche marks were a sign that the place had ‘character’.
There were a variety of individuals milling about as they chucked back their spirits, a few patrons slumping back in their chairs with their eyes closed from an overconsumption of liqour, and a lively level of chatter melded with the heavier notes of a song circulating the room. The seats at their booth were worn down and a bit stiff, and the table was kind of sticky from the countless drinks that had likely been spilled on it over the years. But despite the sub-par furnishings and the quite frankly rundown nature of the venue, the Mantis Crew found themselves enjoying the evening.
Cal sat listening to Greez regale the story of how he had apparently saved Cere from an Oggdo on one of their first trips to Bogano with dramatic flair.
It had surprised all of them how quickly Cere took Greez up on his offer to buy her a second drink, since she was so against coming into the bar in the first place. But the longer they stayed sitting and exchanging conversation around the table, Cere’s edge started to wear off and she began to follow her friend’s advice to ‘lighten up’. Greez seemed to have a knack for showing others how to have a good time.
Cere, who wasn’t as inebriated as Greez but less so than Cal, was cradling her third drink - a glass of revnog - in her hand, shaking her head at Greez’s tale as though she disagreed with the retelling.
He continued in a low tone, face completely serious, his words slightly slurred.
“And I’m tellin’ ya, the Oggdo spotted us both from across the plain, and began its approach. I pulled out both of my blasters, and I shot it. BANG!” Greez smashed a closed fist onto the table suddenly in an act that startled both Merrin and BD-1. “Right in its middle eye! And it dropped dead, then and there. I saved us both that day. True story.” And he finished his account by taking a large swig of his ale.
Cere shook her head, shoulders moving in quick succession up and down from her laughter, and Cal noted how he didn’t think he’d ever seen her look this relaxed, though he figured the alcohol had probably helped.
“Captain, there is not a spec of truth in that story, and you know it. I was the one who saved you from that Oggdo. If I recall correctly, you ran back to your ship to hide in the cockpit.”
“Does she speak the truth, Greez?” Merrin questioned, raising her brow at him.
Greez waved one of his hands dismissively. “No, no, of course not! I know what happened that day, I was there. I’ll prove it!”
Cal laughed loudly at his bravado. “How could you possibly prove that, Greez? It’s Cere’s word against yours, and no offence, but we’ve all seen what you’re like around fauna, so forgive us if we believe her and not you.”
This coaxed a small sound of mirth out of Merrin, who choked on her drink slightly as the noise escaped her lips.
“Okay, then how ‘bout this?” Greez declared. “I challenge Cere to get a higher score than me in One-Armed Smuggler.”
Merrin narrowed her eyes. “And how is that going to prove anything?”
Greez turned to look at her with a dazed expression.
“Prove what?” He asked, his mind suddenly going blank as if the last ten minutes didn’t happen.
There was a slight pause in the air before Cal, Merrin and Cere all suddenly doubled up in stitches.
“I’m serious!” He said through their uproar of hysterics. “I’ll bet anyone in this bar that Cere can’t beat me.”
Cere began to remove herself from the booth, drink still in hand, as she rose to meet Greez’s challenge.
“Alright, Captain. You’ve got yourself a bet!” And the pair walked - well, in Greez’s case, stumbled - to a different corner of the bar where the slot machine was located, leaving Cal, Merrin and BD-1 at the table.
Cal heard Greez mention something about bragging rights being on the line as he walked away, and he shook his head, still amused at his friend’s drunken antics.
From her seat next to him, Cal heard Merrin speak up over the music.
“Is it wise to let him use that thing? Given his history with gambling.” She queried, and Cal raised his brow, answering with a nonchalant wave of his hand.
“What, Greez? Nah, he’ll be fine. Besides, Cere will keep an eye on him.” He said, knowing full well that her presence over there was just for show and that really, Cere went with Greez to make sure he didn’t overdo it on the gambling machine. She herself would never have gone near those things out of her own volition.
There was a moment of pause as Merrin, satisfied with Cal’s answer, turned her head away from him to stare aimlessly at something that caught her interest on the ceiling.
Outside of a few interjections here and there, and a couple bouts of uncharacteristic giggling, she had been relatively quiet during the night. She appeared to be on the same level of drunkenness as he was, Cal having spotted Greez handing Merrin the same blue shots he piled him up with earlier in the evening, enthusiastically taking them from his hands, but she appeared to be more prone to zoning out than the rest of them.
“Hey, are you okay?” He asked her, aware in that moment how loud and overly-concerned his tone was.
Cal’s question seemed to pull Merrin back out of her own world, and she turned her head quickly to face him again, eyes doelike and her lips slightly parted.
“Hm? Oh, yes. I am fine,” She answered, giving him a small, rigorous nod before looking out the corners of her eyes as if she was thinking. “But I feel very light, and my hands are numb.”
A short laugh left Cal’s lips. “Don’t worry, it’s just the alcohol. It’s normal.”
“The feeling is very pleasant!” She decided, her own voice increasing in volume.
“Have you ever tried it before?”
Merrin looked at him with a flippant expression and leaned her head in slightly, the low-level light pleasantly illuminating her face. Cal’s gaze unconsciously drifted to the intricate markings that were etched into her pale skin.
“Cal, you’ve been to Dathomir, yes? Do you recall seeing any establishments such as this during your last visit?”
He shook his head and smiled inwardly, stopping himself from further admiring her markings.
“No, I did not.” He conceded, bringing his drink to his mouth to take a sip.
“Then there is the answer to your question.” And Merrin pulled back away from him and sighed blithely. “Although, there was a wine the Nightsisters made out of hwotha berries. I only had one sip of it when I was a child, and it was very potent. That is the only other time I have consumed alcohol. Have you ever drank before?”
“Yeah, a couple times. Sometimes other workers in the Scrappers Guild on Bracca would make this drink called jet juice, and it had a reputation for putting people on their asses.” Cal answered, and memories of a particularly nasty hangover from when he was sixteen, after having drunk the beverage from a flask he’d been handed by another scrapper at the end of a long day, resurfaced in his mind.
It was as if Merrin could see the image of drunken disorder born from drinking jet juice Cal had painted for her, and a string of titters spilled from her lips. Her laugh was contagious, and Cal found himself laughing alongside her, BD-1 chirping along merrily as well.
“You know something, Kestis?” Merrin said, placing her glass back down on the table as their laughs died away. “Before tonight, I never knew why people drank this stuff, but now I understand. It is - quite enjoyable. What do people usually do when they are under the influence of such things?”
Cal paused in drowsy thought as he waited for his response to emerge to the front of his fuzzy mind.
“Uh, well, they do what we’re doing now,” He said, gesturing to the bar around them. “They talk to their friends, make new friends. Maybe play a couple drinking games.”
Merrin squinted her eyes curiously. “What is a drinking game?”
“It’s basically an excuse for people to get even more wasted than they already are. I only know one though, and that’s Ten Digits.” Cal replied, scrunching up his shoulders in a shrug.
“We should play it!” Merrin exclaimed, and Cal tilted his head at her, surprised.
“You - wanna play Ten Digits?” The words left his mouth slowly. Of all people, Merrin was the last person he expected to be on board to play a drinking game, Cere being a close second. The alcohol really was bringing out a different side to her Cal had never seen before.
But Merrin nodded enthusiastically. “Yes. We are two friends who are sharing a drink together, and it would be rude to ignore the social rules for consuming alcohol.”
A lazy grin appeared on Cal’s face. “I have to admit. It is bizarre to see you like this,” And he raised his glass to her. “Merrin, I believe you are well and truly intoxicated. Congratulations!”
Merrin reached out, clinking her own glass against his before Cal began to explain the rules of Ten Digits.
It was a simple game really: each player would take turns to come up with statements describing various things. If another player had done that thing or it related to them, they had to drink and put a finger down (or the closest thing they had to a finger, depending on their species). The person who wins was the one with all or most fingers still up by the end.
As the game progressed, Cal had put a total of four fingers down whilst Merrin had put down five. They went back and forth making statements to try and catch the other one out, their tall drink glasses becoming emptier with each round that passed.
Even though playing the game had started to make Cal’s head spin slightly, he revelled in it, and he realised in that moment that he and Merrin had never had a conversation where they had just sat down and talked about the little things that made up the larger picture of who they were. Cal listened to Merrin part with these small pieces of information about herself with earnest, savouring the mutual exchange of knowledge. It sure made a welcome change to their usual bonding over the constant threat of being captured or killed that always loomed over their heads.
It was then Merrin’s turn to present a statement, and a wicked grin appeared on her face as she looked at Cal with an almost accusing expression.
“I have a ridiculously large collection of ponchos.”
“Hey! That’s not fair!” Cal bemoaned, his face dropping into an unbelieving expression at her insulting his favoured article of clothing.
“But it is true, so therefore you must drink.”
“Well, I don’t think they’re ridiculous.” He mumbled into his glass, taking another sip as Merrin laughed at his sorrow over having to put another finger down.
“Okay, my turn,” He said, ignoring the urge he had to begin listing off the reasons why ponchos were the superior form of outerwear. “I have - injured myself with my own weapon.”
They both put a finger down then.
“Lightsaber?” Merrin asked.
“Lightsaber,” Cal repeated. “Many times. You?”
“It was with a dagger I was training myself to use. I still have the scar on my thigh.”
And once again, it was Merrin’s turn to come up with a statement, and she bit her lip in thought. It took longer for her to think of something to say this time, probably as a result of the spirits they were drinking, but Cal waited patiently for her to speak until she finally did, drawing out the words slowly.
“I have… kissed someone before.”
Merrin was the only one who put a finger down this time, and when she noticed Cal didn’t, she eyed him quizzically over the top of her glass as she brought it to her lips to drink. It was as if she were expecting him to have also put a finger down.
Cal saw this and met her gaze with confusion as his hand mindlessly swirled his drink.
“What?”
“You didn’t put a finger down,” She stated, and then paused, the next thing she said undercut with hesitation. “Have you - never kissed anyone before?”
Cal shifted in his seat a little, as he felt his cheeks begin to burn under Merrin's gaze. For some reason he was finding it hard to look her directly in the eye.
“I have!” He said with a little too much assertion. “But I didn’t initiate it, so it doesn’t count towards the game. Technically, I’ve only ever been kissed, not the other way round.”
Merrin lightly swatted him on the arm. “Don’t be pedantic, Jedi. You know what I mean. But there were times when it was the other way round, correct?”
Cal shook his head. “Nope. My first kiss was my first, and last. To be honest, I haven’t really had much time for that sort of thing.”
He could’ve explained his answer further, but chose not to as he was not in the right frame of mind to start a conversation explaining the code of the Jedi Order to her. Cal internally hoped that Merrin would assume the fact that he’d been in hiding and on the run for the past five years as the reason why he’d not pursued any romantic relations during his life, and thankfully, she didn’t ask him to elaborate on his words. Instead, she asked him something different.
“Who were they?”
If it hadn't been for the alcohol, Cal probably wouldn’t have answered her query, and he didn’t think Merrin would’ve asked at all. But they’d been sharing stories all night, and the story of his first kiss was pretty anticlimactic, so he didn’t see the harm in telling it.
“They were a girl called Amaris, but she went by Ami. She worked as a scrapper like me. There had never been anything going on between us, but we’d been friends for a while. One night, I happened to mention that I’d never kissed anyone before, and suddenly she just leaned forward and kissed me. It was quick, but when she pulled away, she looked at me and said “now you have”. She left Bracca not long after that. I never saw her again.”
Merrin smiled. “Sounds like she was a good friend.”
“Yeah, she was,” Cal nodded in agreement. “What about you?”
Merrin’s smile then faded slightly and she paused, her hand reaching up to touch the necklace she wore almost instinctively. Cal feared for a moment that he had somehow upset her with his question, but eventually Merrin breathed in and spoke.
“Her name was Ilyana. We grew up together. At night we would sneak away and brew potions in the swamps of Dathomir. She had gotten injured once, and I had stayed by her side till she had healed. As thanks, she made me this necklace, gifting it to me with a kiss,” Then Merrin’s face grew almost mournful, as her hand fell away from her necklace and into her lap, her eyes looking down at the floor. “But she’s long gone now.”
Cal felt himself sober up slightly as he realised then that Ilyana had passed, and he cursed at himself for ever asking about it to begin with. He must’ve unconsciously been wearing a remorseful expression on his features, because when Merrin caught sight of him she turned apologetic, awkwardly shuffling in her seat.
“I’m sorry, I did not mean to dampen the mood.”
He urgently shook his hands to reassure her. “No, don’t - don’t apologise. I don’t mind.”
And Merrin gave him a weak smile, appreciative of his kindness, allowing for a thoughtful quiet to settle between them.
During the quiet, Cal came to understand that it had taken Merrin a lot to share her memories of Ilyana with him. It was clearly something she held close, and he figured it was not a part of herself she shared frivolously with others. Cal realised then that it was a sign of trust that she had told him, and that Merrin had allowed him to walk through her lowered defences. He had never pushed her in the past to open herself up to him, not that he would ever dream of doing so, and Cal felt immense gratitude that Merrin had given him that trust now.
“It is a really beautiful necklace she made for you.” Cal spoke up, his voice low but gentle, and Merrin met his gaze.
“It reminds me of home. I hope to return to Dathomir one day, and share the stories of my travels with my sleeping sisters. With Ilyana,” She said, a small glint returning to her tawny eyes. “Although, when I tell my tales, they will be far more accurate than Greez’s were.”
Her joking remark pulled a short laugh out of Cal then, and the sombre atmosphere gave way, returning to the light-hearted equilibrium from before.
“Perhaps you could get Greez to take you back to Dathomir himself? Give him more fake stories to put under his belt.” He returned, reaching for his drink.
Merrin shook her head. “I don’t think he would want to return there anytime soon. Besides, I think he still believes that I'm somehow ‘scary’.”
Cal raised his brow in a matter-of-fact way. “Merrin, you are scary.”
“Am I?” She asked, in a way that implied she already knew the answer.
“Yeah!” Cal exclaimed with a light scoff. “You raised the dead and had them chase after us. I mean it nearly gave Greez a heart attack! You’re not just scary, you’re - absolutely terrifying.”
She pursed her lips, feigning thought as she considered Cal’s words. “Hm. ‘Terrifying’. This title appeases me.”
“Yeah, you’re terrifying as all hell. But you know what? You don’t scare me.”
Merrin leaned her head to the right. “No?”
“No. Because I can tell beneath all of this, you’ve got a good heart, and - you’re honestly kind of incredible.” Cal broke off eye contact with her then, feeling bashful at his words.
He’d never actually said any of this to Merrin before this moment, but he'd always thought it, ever since he first met her. Even when she had actively been trying to kill him he thought it, a part of him being captivated by her strong will and abilities. He’d never met anyone like her before...
Cal breathed out a sigh before looking at Merrin once more. “I’m glad you’re my friend, Merrin.”
And a smile appeared on Merrin’s face. “I am glad you’re my friend, as well, Cal.”
BD-1, who had been observing the pair as they played their game, trilled out a noise.
“Yeah, yeah, we’re glad to be friends with you too, Beedee.” Cal affirmed, affectionately patting the little droid on his head.
Cal and Merrin decided to stop playing the drinking game then, figuring it had reached a natural conclusion, and they just continued to simply talk to each other. Eventually, their conversations drew to a close too, as they spotted Cere heading back to their table, supporting Greez’s weight as the ale and exhaustion finally caught up with him. By that point it had caught up with them all, and Cere spoke for everyone when she said it was time for their excursion to come to an end.
Thankfully, by the time they left, Cal felt that most of the alcohol had worn off, and as he stepped out onto the street, he realised how warm it had been inside the bar when the cool air touched his skin.
The street was quieter now, and the group finally began their journey back to the ship, supplies in hand, shivering slightly as a chill wind surrounded them. Cere and Greez walked in front whilst Cal and Merrin followed from behind, BD-1 assuming his perch on Cal’s shoulder.
Greez could be heard chattering mindlessly next to Cere, who kept trying to contain fits of laughter as she helped the captain walk in a straight line. It seemed that she had done this before, and Cal could only imagine the amount of times Cere had to help her friend after a few too many libations.
“You know what?” Greez spoke up, his words being the clearest they had been since they left the bar. “Tonight was alotta fun! I’m really glad we did this. Here’s to our funny little family! I love you guys.”
Cal could hear the grin in Cere’s voice as she replied. “Yes, we love you too, Greez. Let’s hope you still feel the same way about this evening in the morning.”
“Oh, I will! I will forever cherish this memory.” Greez proclaimed, his voice ringing with joy through the empty streets.
Cal couldn’t help but agree with the sentiment in Greez's words. He was right, the evening had been fun. It was the first time in a long time where Cal had actually felt at ease. Him and his crew had been through so many trials that it seemed they had forgotten how to take joy in the simple company of close friends. Cal himself had not experienced this simplicity in… well, in years, and he was glad to be reminded of how essential those kinds of moments were to the human experience.
It was nights like these, nights where you just sat and talked, that were vital in strengthening the bond between people. Cal knew that tomorrow they would continue their fight, and he was eager to keep pushing forward, but after tonight, he was even more thankful that he had Merrin, Cere, Greez and BD-1 by his side.
He continued trailing after Cere and Greez when suddenly, he felt an arm wrap around his own. It was Merrin who, after deciding the night air was too cold for her, linked her arm with Cal’s, pulling the two closer together.
The warmth from her body nearly stopped Cal in his tracks, and he turned his head to look at her with a somewhat stunned expression.
“What?’ Merrin questioned when she noticed him looking at her.
Cal turned his eyes back towards the street.
“Nothing. I just didn’t think physical contact with anyone was really your thing.” He replied, a hint of wit in his words.
“It is freezing,” Merrin stated, tightening her grip on Cal’s arm when another cold burst of wind rippled through the air. “And if you mention this in the future, I will raise an animal from the dead and have it chase you.”
“Whatever you say, Nightsister.” Cal said, although he could see Merrin smiling out of the corner of his eye, knowing that her threat was empty.
Cal didn’t move away from her, and as he and Merrin walked arm in arm, only one thought occupied his mind:
Yep, definitely incredible.