Chapter Ten
The first night with 'Uncle Hondo' was filled with alcohol and food and stories and dancing and music and more alcohol. The drunker the Weequay pirate became, the more open he was about telling them of a child Leslie.
"I will tell you!"
The pirate sloshed his drink, spilling most of it on the table. Leslie was laughing, leaning against him. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer.
"She was a feisty little child, this one. Always getting into trouble."
Leslie elbowed him.
"I was not that bad."
The pirate shook his head, took another gulp of alcohol.
"Yes, my dear, you were. But! Back to the story."
Her men leaned closer, eager to hear of the childhood she wouldn't tell them about. Leslie groaned dramatically and covered her face with her arm. The pirate slammed his mug onto the table and cleared his throat, preparing for the story.
"She had come with my good friend Jango Fett. I had never expected to see him with a child, but! There he was. And so I said to myself, 'Hondo, you must be nice to the little girl.' Because you see, I only like children on particular days."
The pirate captain gestured for another drink, and didn't continue until he had gulped half of it down.
"So while Jango and I were talking, I let her see my swords. And I have a lot of beautiful, beautiful swords."
Leslie laughed again and took a swallow from her own mug of liquor.
"Yes you do, Uncle."
The pirate patted her shoulder sloppily.
"Where was I? Ah, yes. So! Jango and I had finished our little business meeting—it was a very profitable meeting—and he went to get the little girl. But then he couldn't find her. And, he told me, some of my swords were missing!"
Leslie was smiling quite proudly at the memory. Hondo shook his head slightly and continued.
"So I said to Jango, 'My friend, you have brought a thief into my home. How do you expect to repay me?' and he says to me, 'She is simply borrowing your swords.'"
The pirate lurched upwards, howling with laughter.
"She is borrowing my swords! The little thief! Well, it did not take long to find the little thief. She had climbed to the top of the inner wall in my armory. She stood there with my swords and just looked at us. Jango goes to the wall and says, 'Ad'ika, time to go.' And you know what the little thief says?"
The pirate paused and looked around, obviously waiting for a response. The men shook their heads, eager to hear the end of the story. Hondo raised his mug into the air.
"She says, 'You said five hours. It's been four hours and fifty-seven minutes.' And Jango! He did not quite know what to say to the little thief. So I go over to the wall and I tell her, 'Come, come, come, my dear. I will show you how to use the swords.' And she crosses her arms and tells me, 'I already know how. I just want yours.'"
Leslie was bent over the table, tears leaking from her eyes as she laughed, the alcohol no doubt making the story funnier than it was. The pirate patted her curls.
"It took much convincing, but! We finally got her down, and I got my swords back. But, the little thief. She was a good business woman. She got my favorite dagger and an entire uj-cake out of the ordeal. So, at the end of it all, I say to Jango, 'You, my old friend, should bring her everywhere. She will make all your encounters profitable.'"
The pirate took a breath, finished his mug of ale.
"Then the little thief gave me a hug and called me uncle and said thank you for the dagger. Every time Jango came back she was with him."
The pirate sighed loudly.
"It was a good time."
Leslie sat up straight and smiled up at him.
"I still have the dagger. Maybe I could get a sword to go with it?"
The pirate laughed and called for another drink.
"You, my dear, have not changed at all."
Leslie smiled and refilled her mug. She hadn't seen her adopted uncle in years. It was good to be back.
Rev liked Florrum. It was hot and dry, with acidic geysers and full of pirates. But he liked it. Because.
Because Leslie was happy here.
Because it was nice to pretend that he wasn't part of an army where he had less rights than a slave.
Because the pirates were loud and drunk and ruthless—and fun.
Because being illegal brought about just a hint of excitement.
Because.
He thought for a moment.
Because Florrum wasn't anyplace he thought he'd ever go, let alone with a woman, especially with a ship full of rare spice.
Because here—on a backwater planet where breaking the law was a part of daily life—he could let his thoughts wander, he could imagine a life outside the army.
Because here he wasn't a sergeant or a clone.
He was just Rev. Leslie's second. And he was welcomed as family.
Because here.
Here Leslie is happy.
And he liked that. He really, really did.
Because here, he was happy, too.
The time with the pirates was fun. There was constant drinking and eating and laughing and talking. The pirate captain liked to tell stories of Leslie. Her men heard all about her adventures as a little girl.
She hid an entire shipment of spice from him as a prank.
She stole one of his speeder's during a tantrum directed towards Jango Fett.
She almost blew up the pirates' mother ship when Hondo was teaching her to drive his tanks.
For each story Leslie would blush in embarrassment and laugh so hard she cried. That would only spur the pirate captain on. He would be laughing nearly as hard as her by the time he finished the story.
It was on the eighth day when Leslie finally told her adopted uncle what had prompted the visit. She took him into their old, run-down ship and presented him with the crates of spice. He stared at it for a moment before turning to her with a wide smile.
"You, my dear, make me proud. I have taught you well."
Leslie laughed and opened one of the crates so he could inspect the spice.
"Yes you have."
He pinched a bit between his fingers and sniffed it, tasting a few flakes. He chuckled and nodded.
"Good spice."
Leslie smiled rather proudly.
"Yes, I know."
The pirate laughed loudly and slung an arm across her shoulder. She leaned against him. He studied the spice a moment longer then turned to look down at her.
"How much do I owe you?"
Leslie blinked up at him with faux innocence.
"You think I would charge my uncle?"
The pirate played along, shaking his head sadly.
"I'd be disappointed if you didn't."
Leslie laughed.
"One million even."
The pirate sighed, but smiled.
"Yes, I have taught you well."
Leslie gestured the spice, quirked a brow.
"And. And I want a sword."
Hondo was silent for a moment then started laughing—loud, happy laughs.
"You, my dear, are a brilliant businesswoman."
Leslie gave her uncle a four days warning about the departure of her and her men. Those last four days were most definitely the rowdiest. The most alcohol. The most food. The most women. The most dancing and laughing and partying.
Hondo walked them to their ship—except it didn't look like their ship. It was better. No longer falling apart and broken and rusty. It was sleek and shiny and completely redone. Leslie started laughing in delight.
"Uncle Hondo!"
The pirate seemed rather proud of himself.
"The rest of your payment, my dear. That spice you brought me—very nice. Very expensive."
Leslie wandered around her redone ship.
"In just four days?"
Hondo gestured to the small group of pirates that had come to say good-bye.
"We are very efficient when we want to be."
Leslie went to inspect the cockpit. They all heard her joyous laughter.
"It's the sword!"
Hondo chuckled and crossed his arms.
"My very best. Besides the one I wear, of course."
Leslie's head appeared in the doorway. She smiled and winked at him.
"Of course."
The rest of the farewell was fairly short. They had one more round of shots with the pirates. Hondo gave Leslie a one-armed hug. She kissed his cheek.
They started the journey home in their newly remodeled ship.
Ink loved his leader. He loved the adventures they went on. He loved what he learned while under her command. But.
But there was always something so much better about returning to Coruscant, to his woman. To her small apartment and her soft body and her warm skin and her good food. To the pictures she would draw and the tea she would make. To the gestures—so small they were nearly discernable unless one knew her extremely well—she would make instead of actually speaking.
He loved the way her dark skin contrasted against his lighter tan skin. He loved the way her red curls would frizz and tickle his arm as they slept. He loved the way her sliver eyes would flicker up to him when she acknowledged what he said, but she wouldn't answer verbally.
He loved Leslie. He was in love with Omari.
Ink curled an arm around Omari's sleeping form and turned his head slightly, catching sight of Leslie stretched out between Falcon and Rev.
He loved his brothers.
He loved Leslie.
He was in love with Omari.
He decided that love was a very wonderful thing indeed.
Leslie wore her new sword slung across her back to her post-mission meeting with Zey. The bright silver sheath gleamed, stood out against her dark clothes. People stared and whispered. She bit back a smile.
Having the sword on her made her feel powerful. Dangerous. More so than usual. It was a nice feeling she was thoroughly enjoying.
When she knocked on the door it was Zey's voice that told her to come in. When she stepped into the room it wasn't Zey's face the greeted her first.
It was another man with white hair and green eyes, and a look she immediately distrusted. She reinforced her shield, becoming pure ice. The other man stared at her and she could feel him. Feel him reaching out with the Force. Feel him trying to read her with his supernatural abilities.
She just raised an eyebrow, face ice, completely monotone.
Zey sighed from behind his desk.
"I'll talk to you later, Master Camas."
The man hesitated for a moment before nodding once and leaving. Leslie waited until the door had closed to approach Zey's desk. He looked up at her and she blinked.
He always looked more and more tired each time she saw him, but this time he looked just awful. Scraggly, with dark circles forming under his eyes, pupils slightly glazed with what she recognized as slight delirium caused by exhaustion.
"You have some interesting friends."
Zey snorted softly—it could've been laughter or a scoff, she couldn't tell. She wasn't sure which one would make more sense.
"I will say the same about you, Miss Rodriguez. Would you like to tell me where you've been the past twelve days?"
Leslie smiled, that sarcastically sweet one.
"Not really, but I feel like being nice today."
Zey's lips curled upwards. Leslie softened her entire demeanor as she continued talking.
"I was visiting family."
Zey blinked.
"You don't have any family, Miss Rodriguez."
She raised an eyebrow. He sighed.
"I meant according to your files, and you know that."
She laughed softly.
"Yes, I did know that. And yes, I do have family."
Zey nodded. Leslie was quiet for a moment then sank into one of the seats in front of his desk. He blinked tiredly at her. She leaned forwards slightly.
"You look terrible."
His lips curled upwards again, but he didn't say anything. She sighed.
"Give me your hand."
He looked at her curiously and held out his hand. She sat up straight, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. She pressed her hands together in the middle of her chest for a moment, murmuring words under her breath.
He could feel the shift in the Force around them. Whatever she was doing, it was affecting the energy in the immediate area. A part of him wanted to use the Force to try and see what she was doing, but another part knew better. Knew she'd draw away, pull back if he used the Force on her.
Her eyes opened slowly, defocused and staring at a point behind his shoulder. With soft, smooth motions she held his hand between the two of hers. Her breathing deepened, body rocking backwards slightly.
And then whatever she was doing—whatever was causing the shift—was in him. In his veins, in his blood, in his brain and his breath and his nerves. He could see it in his mind, the light energy she was forcing into his body, the heavy energy she was drawing out.
He opened himself more fully to the Force, just to feel. Her shield was down and she was a swirling mixture of emotions and energy all cloaked in the white energy she was sending into him. The closer he watched, the more he felt, the more he realized. She was healing him. Not physically, but mentally and spiritually. She was giving him a part of her spirit to help heal his.
Suddenly she fell back against the back of the chair, her hands falling away from his. She sucked in a deep breath, eyes coming back into focus. He withdrew from the depersonalized state he had put himself into and blinked rapidly to bring his attention back to the living and the present.
She was panting, eyes drooping with exhaustion.
"That should help some."
He did feel better. Much more so than he had in a while. He studied her curiously.
"What did you do?"
Because he didn't recognize it as a technique taught to Force-users. He didn't recognize it as anything. She slowly straightened up.
"Energy healing. Different from Force healing."
Zey's brow furrowed slightly. He remembered that she had told him her mother was an energy healer and had taught her some things. But he would never have expected it to be so powerful.
"As part of the healing process, Miss Rodriguez. What did you do? I could see some of it, but I don't understand it."
Leslie laughed tiredly.
"It's okay for you to not understand everything."
She stood up, giving him a soft smile. He'd only seen it one time, directed at her men, never at anyone else, never at him.
"New mission?"
He shook his head.
"You and your squad have two weeks leave."
Leslie quirked a brow.
"If we don't want two weeks leave?"
Zey chuckled.
"Then that's unfortunate for you, Miss Rodriguez."
She gave him that sarcastic two-fingered salute and left the room. Zey took a deep breath, leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes. There had been a connection when she'd healed him, deeper, more intimate than anything he'd ever experienced. It had been wholly soothing, warm in a way he'd never felt.
He sighed and leaned back over his files. Thinking too much never did him much good these days.
The two weeks of leave passed slowly and quickly at the same time.
They explored the city, got caught up in trouble here and there, broke a few laws, made some new friends. They went out dancing, Leslie and Omari dressing themselves and the men in different styles each time. They got to know the planet of Coruscant from top to bottom, from Underworld to the richest sectors.
They gained all sorts of new contacts, gained "friends" in high places and "friends" in low places. In the span of two weeks, Leslie taught her men how to network, and they expanded their network over all the classes and most professions.
They reached the one-year point since the men had graduated from Kamino, the year and a half point that they'd been with Leslie.
That was cause for celebration, or course, on their last day of leave. A big celebration with a big cake and a big pile of food shared with a big crowd of people. There was dancing and laughing and It was loud and happy and warm.
Leslie and Omari got drunk. Ink and Falcon and Dagger and Ray got drunk. Rev drank, but made sure he was sober enough to drive them back to Omari's apartment. Made sure he was sober enough to look after them.
It was a good, warm party.
Leslie liked people. She liked parties. But she also liked high places and the night time and pretending she could touch the sky.
The building was tall, taller than any other in the sector. She was above all the lights and the noise and the speeders. She could reach the stars.
She was also drunk. Very, very drunk.
Drunk enough that she pulled out her comlink and opened a secure channel to Sev. She wasn't expecting him to answer, but he did, his fully armored form appearing in her hand. She smiled widely. She could picture the look of exasperation in his eyes hidden behind his helmet.
"Yes, Squad Leader Rodriguez?"
She pouted dramatically.
"You know me better than that. You can call me by my name."
There was a moment of silence.
"Are you drunk?"
She laughed.
"Just a bit."
Another moment of silence. She sighed.
"Are you busy?"
He didn't answer right away.
"Just waiting."
She perked up.
"For what?"
More silence.
"I'll call you back later."
She smiled brightly.
"I might still be drunk."
She could have sworn he chuckled softly.
Maybe she was just drunk.
Rev was the one who answered when Sev did call back. He explained in soft words how Leslie and Omari and everyone else was sleeping off the alcohol. Sev told him to tell Leslie she couldn't call again.
Leslie woke up around midday, hungover and tired and hungry. Falcon was already in the kitchen making food. After a quick inspection of the small apartment she realized they were the only two awake.
Falcon gave her a small smile of welcome and nodded to the small plate of food already made. She kissed his cheek and silently sat down, nibbling at the food. They remained in silence for a few minutes before Falcon spoke up, voice soft so as not to wake anyone else.
"I have a question, Miss Leslie."
She looked up at him and swallowed her food.
"What's up, love?"
Falcon stirred the pan of food and turned off the heat.
"I looked up your mother."
Leslie remained silent, waiting. He hesitated before continuing.
"There is no Bethany Foy, Miss Leslie."
Leslie took a sip of Muja-juice, a small smile playing on her lips.
"Throughout the galaxy she is known by a different name. 'Bethany Foy' was the name known only to her friends and family."
Falcon put more food on her plate, brow furrowed in curiosity.
"Why?"
Leslie didn't answer right away, taking a bite of the hot food and chewing slowly.
"It's what she wanted."
Falcon served a plate for himself and settled on the stool beside her.
"There was another name that showed up when I searched Foy."
Leslie was quiet again, waiting for him to continue. He hesitated again before he did.
"A little girl named Ri'yanna Foy. She lived on a planet named Farashian. It's located in the Outer Rim."
Leslie still remained quiet. She knew he wasn't done yet. After a moment, he kept speaking.
"It doesn't say much about her—only that she was a known public figure. All information on her stops when she turned eight."
Leslie smiled at him—playful, teasing.
"Sounds like you have a mystery you'd like to solve."
Falcon chewed thoughtfully.
"Would she have gone into hiding? Maybe changed her name?"
Leslie laughed quietly.
"When you figure it out, tell me. I'm just as curious as you now."
Falcon nodded slowly.
"There was another name related to Ri'yanna. Another girl named Zon'amra. It didn't give a last name for her, though."
Leslie laughed again.
"A very big mystery that will most likely have a very exciting answer."
Falcon gave her a small smile.
"May I know about your mother, Miss Leslie?"
She nodded, but didn't say anything, staring out the window, watching the early-morning activities of Coruscant. It was quiet for a few moments before she spoke.
"My mother was amazing. She raised me mostly on her own, since my father was doing jobs, and could only visit every few weeks. She was kind and gentle, but she was fierce. She was an energy healer, and taught me quite a few things."
Falcon leaned forwards slightly.
"You're talking about her in past tense. Is she dead?"
Leslie smiled sadly.
"I don't know. On my home planet there was a tradition that on a child's seventeenth birthday, they get sent exactly halfway around the planet from their home. They live there for two standard Coruscanti years, learning from whatever community they're in."
Falcon gently pressed his fingers to hers. He knew where the story was going.
"The Wars started when I had been there for a year and a month. The Separatists landed on my planet two months later. Three months after that the Republic came. That's when I met Sev. He kept me safe for eight days, as he was ordered to."
She stopped speaking. Falcon waited patiently. He knew she'd continue.
"He dropped me off at a refugee camp. I didn't want to stay. I found Omari and we trailed him back to one of the destroyers that had landed. We managed to get onto the ship by going between the hyperdrive engines and the shield generators. No one knew we were there. We hid in the vents, only sneaking out to use the 'fresher when needed, and to get food and water. It was another week and a half until the destroyer returned to Coruscant. We got off, found someone to make papers for us, and you know the story from there."
Leslie finished her glass of Muja-juice.
"I couldn't find my mother before I left. I don't know what happened to her."
Falcon scraped the crumbs off his plate into his mouth.
"Wouldn't you like to know?"
Leslie smiled at him mischievously.
"Seems we both have mysteries to solve."
At the exact minute their leave ended, Zey heard his door slide open. He didn't need to look to know who it was.
"Good afternoon, Miss Rodriguez."
Her black curls were loose down her back, wild and untamed. Her blue eyes were wide and exasperated.
"Please save us from this boredom of inaction."
He couldn't help the small chuckle.
"I have two options for you, Miss Rodriguez."
Her eyes narrowed into that look of playful wickedness.
"You're feeling extra nice today, Master Jedi."
He handed her two datapads.
"My way of apologizing for the boredom."
She took the datapads, eyes scanning the information. He spoke as she read.
"One is espionage. The Separatists are trying to absorb small, Outer Rim planets. They have a conference happening in three weeks for all the government officials of these planets."
He saw the small gesture of excitement that passed over her face. He waited a moment then continued.
"The other is more combat-oriented. Master Quinlin Vos has requested additional aid, and your team has very a satisfactory history of providing 'additional aid.'
He didn't need to use the Force to see the sudden change in her, the way she shut down, the ice that came over her features.
"Master Quinlin Vos is known to be unnecessarily cruel to his men. We will not be working with him at all."
She set the datapad with information for that mission back on Zey's desk. He put it to the side, clasping his hands.
"I figured you'd go for the espionage one anyways."
Leslie winked.
"You know me too well, Master Jedi."
She stood took the datachip out of the 'pad, tucking it into her pocket. Zey watched as she turned, ready to leave.
"Is this decent enough to alleviate your boredom?"
Leslie paused, glancing over her shoulder.
"You are our hero."
That sarcastically sweet voice appeared.
"Isn't that what all Jedi aim to be?"
She was out the door before he could respond.
Leslie and Omari had a building they liked to sit on top of. They'd discovered it during their first few days on Coruscant, and it had become their place. They would sit and watch the city, above all the lights and noise, where nothing could touch them.
They were there now. Sitting. Watching. In silence at first. And then Leslie spoke.
"You and Ink?"
Omari didn't respond right away.
"He's good."
Leslie leaned back on her hands.
"I know how you are. You don't stick with one man. That's okay. That's you. But he's my man. Don't break him."
Omari just made a noise in the back of her throat. Leslie smiled a little and fell silent. Omari closed her eyes.
"You and the Commando?"
Leslie laughed.
"He's good."
Omari made another noise in her throat and gave Leslie a side look. The dark-haired woman laughed again.
"He's good, Omari. We're good. He's—"
She paused, looked down at the far-off ground with a smile, didn't continue speaking. Omari's lips curved up slightly.
"Me and Ink. We're good."
Leslie lay down completely, eyes closed, the setting sun warming her face.
"We're leaving again tonight. I need the rest of the clothes."
Omari crossed her legs.
"All of them?"
Leslie nodded. Omari shifted slightly to get more comfortable.
"Make-up? Shoes? Hair things?"
Leslie nodded again.
"Those, too."
They fell into silence. The sun finished setting. The night life awoke. Leslie sat up.
"Something's changing."
Omari stretched her legs out, leaned back on her hands.
"I can feel it."
Leslie watched the speeders blurring through the skylanes.
"I have a way out. If we need it."
Omari fully looked at her friend for the first time since they'd been on the roof.
"It's that serious, then?"
Leslie was quiet for a moment.
"Maybe."
Omari made a noise of acknowledgement.
"Where did this way come from?"
Leslie smiled, thought of the short old Mandalorian warrior who knew something about her, who let her and Sev spend the night together, who pressed the datachip into her hand.
Omari was watching her carefully. When Leslie didn't say anything, her lips curved up.
"It's good?"
Leslie smiled and lay back down, her head in Omari's lap.
"It's good. We'll be good."
It took four days to create aliases that would withhold the scrutiny of the CIS. It took two more days to safely—for all parties involved—take out the actual reigning ruler of a small Outer Rim planet called Devna.
Leslie was going to take his place at the conference. Which meant another three days of reading up on everything about the planet, and an extra week spending time on the planet to learn about some of the customs and cultures.
After nearly two and a half weeks they were ready, on their way to the conference. None of the men could go in with her, which was making them all visibly uneasy. Leslie just smiled—soothingly, gently.
"Just listen through the comms. This'll be fun."
Ink helped her into the dress, Ray did her hair. Omari, of course, had provided the clothes. The dress was that of a queen, with an intricate headdress and jewelry to accessorize it.
The dress—it was beautiful. Soft colors of cream and gold and light blue. The fabric flowed and shimmered and made her look wholly ethereal.
The headdress was perhaps the best part. Bands of gold woven together, woven through her black curls, down around her head, handing low across her forehead. Her hair was piled on top of her head with braids and beads and loose strands hanging down her back.
The jewelry was simple: stones that glowed in the soft lighting of the ship, metals that complimented the headdress and the dress, a few jewels that brought sparkle to the entirety of the outfit.
Her make-up was barely there, just enough to bring attention to her eyes. And her eyes. They looked like shards of ice, pale blue, sharp and glinting. Eyes a queen would have.
Before she left, she turned to her men. They were watching her, cataloguing the subtle changes that had taken place as the outfit was put on.
Her stance changed. She stood—not like a warrior, not like they were used to seeing her stand—but like a queen. Instead of looking planted and firm and strong, she looked taller and more regal and unbreakable.
Her body language changed. They were used to seeing her open—not easily read, but open. Now she was closed, blank, pure ice. Her guard was up, but not obviously, not as if she mistrusted anyone specifically. It was as if she was putting a shield between herself and those she thought below her.
And her voice. When she spoke to them it was loud and happy, with a rough edge that would accompany her accent when it popped up. Now, though, it was soft and powerful, her accent changed completely to that of the Devnians with a smoothness that sounded odd from her mouth.
She gave them all a kiss on a cheek, a smile of mischief and wicked.
"I'll be back."
And then she was gone.
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