The Rebels fandom is turning into a rant archive in some places, and it's really gloomed up my day. So when I'm upset I usually write something unique from my general writing style. Since I have been writing both angst and humor lately, I needed a new "creative outlet". Have some Caleb Dume! :D
Cause he's adorable when he's a drama queen….
Timeline: Caleb is 13 and on his very first mission with Master Billapa.
"Dith in't fair," Caleb mumbled, burying his face in the pillow.
This was supposed to be his first 'great mission'. He was supposed to save the planet, or heroically rescue a family, or dismantle a bioweapon… something interesting and glorious that would live on in the hearts of the people. Burrowing under thermal blankets with a clogged nose, runny eyes, and aching limbs was not how Caleb wanted to be remembered.
"Hush now, Caleb." Depa looked amused as she patted his arm, holding a steaming cup of sapir tea under his puffed nose. "It's only the Cardooine Chills. You'll be running rampart in a few days."
"Bud duh mithion," Caleb mumbled. The tea did smell good, and he loved Cardooine honey…. "We're thpothed to…"
"The mission is finished," Depa said kindly. "You were asleep for twenty hours straight. Captain Maik stayed behind in case you needed anything."
Squinting, Caleb tried to recall a blurry patch involving unwanted sleep and a nurturing clone. "I don' 'member."
Depa snorted. "Of course not. You were spaced out enough to call me your mother." She chuckled at Caleb's flush. "If you could only see yourself, young one. Don't worry; Master Windu called me Yaddle when he and I were on mission together, and nothing could be more disconcerting than that."
Caleb screwed up his nose, coughed wetly, and sneezed. "Mb'I gonna die?"
"Goodness, child!" Depa laughed. "They weren't exaggerating when they warned me you were dramatic. You've hardly a fever. If you're dying, then Captain Rex is Anakin's father."
"He ith?" Caleb gasped.
Depa sighed and pressed her hand to her padawan's forehead. "Hm, maybe a little feverish, then. Caleb Dume, where did the galaxy inspire such a child?"
Grumbling incoherently, Caleb shoved an arm out from beneath the covers. "Can I hab dah tea, Mathter?"
"Mm-hm. Drink slowly, Padawan."
The sapir was favorably warm, delightfully sweet, and soothing on his raw throat. Caleb spluttered, trying to hold down a cough until he had drained the mug. "Feelth nithe," he murmured, closing his eyes.
"It should," Depa said wryly. "Captain Maik keeps a kicker of a sedative in his medkit."
"Th'not….." Not fair, Caleb thought droopily. He snuggled against the pillow, humming appreciatively when Depa returned the cold pack to his forehead. The Force rippled from her hand, soothing aches and easing the congestion in his lungs. Being sick wasn't so bad this time around. He had yet to be a hero, but maybe it was okay to be a mopey padawan for one day.
At least there would be uj cake for his birthday tomorrow. He hadn't really been asleep when Master Depa and Captain Maik were whispering….
Deviously Caleb smiled and lunged into the comforter of sleep.
Translation for Caleb's "cold-lingo":
"Dith in't fair." (This isn't fair.)
"Bud duh mithion." (But the mission.)
"We're thpothed to…" (We're supposed to….)
"I don' member." (I don't remember.)
"Mb'I gonna die?" (Am I going to die?)
"He ith?" (He is?)
"Can I hab dah tea, Mathter?" (Can I have the tea, Master?)
"Feelth nithe." (Feels nice.)
"Th'not…." (It's not… (fair).)
"Cardooine Chills, named after the planet, was a virus that caused congestion, coughing, fatigue and body aches, as well as an insatiable appetite. The virus had relatively stable structure, and those afflicted by it generally developed an immunity, allowing the virus to strike only once in a lifetime." - Wookiepedia
Disclaimer: Neocolai does not own Star Wars: Rebels or anything associated with the series.