"Wake the Ashes"
Chapter Twenty-Nine: Restless Search for Home
Kallea Sector, Outer Rim
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As Takira discovered too late, arriving on a new destination was more of a hassle than leaving one. She had assumed this would feel like a big adventure. But it only felt like stress and worrying about everything that might go wrong. From what she hastily picked up as they were given orders on the ship, they were about to land on a small moon in the Kallea Sector, just south of the heavily trafficked Terminus system. Terminus, as she read in one of her holobooks back when she was seventeen, stayed in business by profiting off the tourist industry. And on a place like Terminus, it was hard to avoid the press and keeping any sort of secrets.
As soon as the transport touched down, everyone had to leave and head to their designated areas on the rebel base. Whatever the orders for which groups should go first were, Takira couldn't pick up over all the noise. She grabbed what few things she brought with and followed the others outside. It only took seconds for the different atmosphere of Terminus' moon to affect her breathing, and she nearly had a coughing fit as soon as she was down the landing ramp. The air felt much thicker and wetter here as opposed to Tatooine. She moved quickly, not wanting to fall behind or stall anyone. On the outside, she tried to appear calm and confident. Inside she was screaming.
The journey had only lasted under two days, but those two days had been spent in tight living quarters on the transport. Takira had had to stay in a small cabin where she shared a bunk with another rebel soldier, meaning she had no privacy at all. Everyone had to keep to a tight schedule, do specified chores, and follow any other orders. Quite the opposite of the way Takira had been raised for the past nine years.
There were too many people all at once. The living quarters had been much too tight for her liking. She was one step short of exploding from the stress.
As she made her way off the transport, shuffling past people and constantly bumping into or having to move past someone, Takira began to feel that old sensation again. It felt like insects on her skin, constantly crawling, itching, scratching her. To Takira, the insects were the absolute worst feeling in the world. By the time she had finally made it outside and to the camp, on her way to where she and the other medical personnel would be staying, Takira could feel herself perspiring and beginning to shake. The new atmosphere was not helping either. She hated it.
All the travel, the unfamiliar people and sights, sounds, and smells drained her energy. Drove her crazy. It felt like too much, too fast. Too much to take in and adjust to all at once.
She needed something familiar to get her through this. Painting, tinkering on a speeder, making crafts. Things she always used to do back at the house.
Which she had to stop letting herself think about…
As she felt someone approaching her from behind, Takira turned around suddenly, shoulders tensed and knees locked. A young Human-Zabrak hybrid walked up to her, carrying a crate filled with supplies.
"You must be with the group that came in from Tatooine," she said, smacking a large wad of gum between her teeth.
"Yup, that's us," Takira said, not feeling in the mood for chit-chat. The last thing she currently wanted, in fact, was any sort of interaction with another sentient. Being alone—in quiet and at peace—sounded much more preferable
"How did that go? I heard it was rough…you guys had a hard time getting enough troops to take the city and get on out of there. That's no fun…" The girl nodded and smiled. "I'm Rajj, by the way."
"I'm Takira. And it wasn't that rough, actually." Takira glanced over the young woman's appearance, noting the black hair with the dyed purple tips at the end, the tattoos covering her neck and the backs of her hands, and odd clothing choice Takira could only assume was 'punk,' popular in places besides Tatooine. Not to mention how this girl, Rajj, was armed to the teeth, and sported a noticeable bruise on her cheek, almost matching her bright lipstick. She couldn't be any older than eighteen standard years.
Realizing, with embarrassment, that she had been staring, Takira looked away quickly. Heat rushed to her cheeks… What's with that?
Rajj frowned slightly. "Hey, are you okay? I can show you around if you want, get you over to the mess hall for some chow after you get settled in." She began walking through the camp, still carrying the crate of supplies; judging by her size she had to be stronger than average to be able to carry that much without breaking a sweat.
Takira followed her. "Food sounds okay right now. I guess I am hungry…"
"It's not exactly Corellian cuisine, but at least consuming it doesn't have to involve your gag reflex." Rajj laughed.
Takira found herself smiling a bit for the first time that day. "Care to fill me in on why they placed a rebel base out here, of all places?"
Rajj glanced over her shoulder; Takira had caught herself staring yet again and looked down at the ground while Rajj spoke. "There's an Imperial base on this same moon, orbiting the Terminus system. Now I know this place looks like it's pointless because we're out in the middle of nowhere and all. But this is where it gets interesting." Rajj spat her wad of gum in a nearby trash bin. "Terminus is the intersection between the Corellian Trade Route and the Hydian Way. So, that makes the Imperial base a vital checkpoint for Imperial ships passing through, and it's a way to keep them communicated with the larger base farther down the Trade Route. Our plan is to attack and destroy the base. That way, the Imperials will have a real hard time traveling around this sector. Plus their ships will be more vulnerable, and isolated. All good for us."
"Sounds like a plan to me. Then again, you make getting rid of the base sound so easy."
Rajj winked. "Isn't that what we're supposed to do?"
Takira instinctively blushed and looked away. What she didn't understand was why she wanted to keep staring at this odd Human-Zabrak girl who talked too loudly and dressed up strange. Why she felt that she could follow this girl around all day and not get tired of it.
Takira didn't notice that Rajj had glanced behind her and noticed something that made her eyes brighten up.
"Hey…oh gods. That looks like Embo," Rajj said, almost breathless.
"Hm? Oh, yes, he joined us on Tatooine."
"Oh, my gods." Rajj spun around and dropped the crate. "Watch my stuff for me for just one minute. I have to go talk to him!"
"What…?"
"Where should I have him sign my blaster?" She pulled it out from the holster strapped to her thigh and looked it over. "Or maybe he should sign my helmet. What do you think?"
"Why would you want someone's signature on a weapon?" Takira asked, confused. It hadn't clicked for her yet.
"It's motherfucking Embo. You know, the bounty hunter back from the Clone Wars? With the hat shield thing and stuff? He's so wizard!" Rajj was ecstatic. "This is literally the best day of my life. I have to go meet him!"
Before Takira could ask what was so 'wizard' about bounty hunters from the Clone Wars, Rajj had already run off towards the unsuspecting Kyuzo. Takira rolled her eyes and paced around the crate, still unable to keep from stealing a few glances at Rajj as she took off running. Before she realized it, Takira found herself wondering what she could do to make Rajj think she was worth spending her time with, or even what would make Rajj like her better.
Even though, to Takira, it already seemed almost pointless. She didn't even know why she wanted that from someone she had met less than thirty minutes ago.
Embo had a reputation for not being an easily startled man.
His training on Phatrong many years ago, as well as his well developed skills as a hunter, had ingrained a constant sense of his surroundings. Embo could almost always tell when he was being followed, or when someone was trying to pull a tricky maneuver on him. It made him a very deadly opponent.
This is why Embo felt quite embarrassed when the eighteen-year old Dathomirian girl managed to nearly startle the daylights out of him. She accomplished this merely by running up to him from behind and asking, in a loud high-pitched voice,
"Hey, kiddo! Can I have your autograph?"
After recovering from a near heart attack, which he very well may have had, if Embo had allowed himself to get out of shape in recent years, Embo turned around to greet the young woman who had managed to catch him completely by surprise. He also could not help but notice that her helmet bore a very familiar set of color schemes.
"Excuse me?" Embo asked, trying to hide the fact that he was still getting his breath back.
"Can I have your autograph? I mean, may I? Oh my gods, I'm so sorry I scared you. I'm just a big fan of yours."
"A…fan?" Embo knew the word had several meanings in Basic and one of them just did not sound right.
"Yeah. You're my hero." She handed him her helmet and a marker. "Just sign at the top, or on the side, wherever you like."
He spoke gravely. "I'm not a hero, little one."
"You're my hero," she insisted.
Embo looked at her. The Human-Zabrak girl smiled up at him in a way that really set him off. It was the smile reserved for when large crowds went to see the popular male singers from the Core Worlds perform at live concerts, when holo soap opera actors showed up at press conferences to meet their adoring fans. That was entertainment. Putting on a show.
Embo was a killer. He saw nothing entertaining about who he was. In fact, it truly disgusted him that someone would look at him and think of him as some kind of idol. That someone watched him and thought 'someday, I want to be like him.' He saw nothing ideal within himself, nothing that a person should want to model themselves after.
"I'm not a hero," he repeated, trying to make it sound as serious as was possible.
"Nah, you're really cool. And your hat is wizard. When I was a youngling I wanted to be you." Suddenly, the girl stepped back. Her smile faded quickly. "I'm sorry. I intruded. You don't have to sign anything, I'll leave you alone. I'm very sorry."
Embo felt his heart sink a bit. In spite of himself, he scribbled a small note and his name on the side of the helmet and handed it back to her.
"Be safe, now."
Her eyes brightened and the smile returned.
"Thank you so much, sir. Sorry for bothering you, I'll go now."
"It is no trouble, little one."
As Embo watched her leave, he had a sinking thought.
If teenagers frighten me this much nowadays, does that mean I am getting old? he wondered, with slight worry. I don't feel that old. And I can still remember what it was like to be so young. Well, one thing is for sure, it will not be too long before I'm over the hill.
According to the terms of his contract with the Empire, any mercenary Boba hired to work for him would have to follow the same roles as Boba as explained by his employers. Unfortunately, that included the basic proper treatment that had been spelled out in Boba's contract. Then again, the Empire had a talent for making such statements easy to twist around. Especially when it came to non-Humans. There were ways to break one rule, yet follow two more rules at the same time, and never get in trouble for it.
Once they arrived at the Imperial base, Bane and Boba were stopped by the guards to be scanned and checked for identification. As Boba properly took off his helmet, removed his wrist gauntlets, and let the scanner check him, he remained calm. He was used to this sort of protocol under the Empire. His first time undergoing the scanning procedure, Boba had to use self control not to react in a negative way. He didn't like knowing they were searching him beyond the necessary protocol. But other than biting his tongue and letting them go through with it anyway, Boba could not do anything about this small annoyance in working for the Galactic Empire.
"Bane, take off your wrist gauntlets, and remove your holsters," Boba said to him.
"I'm not a child, I know what I'm doing," Bane snapped. His tone had suddenly turned oddly bitter, as if every little thing set him off at this point.
Boba watched with slight amusement, as Bane reluctantly removed his wrist gauntlets so they could be scanned by the guards. Bane frowned at the guards who disarmed him, checked his belt and all accessories. They watched every move of his carefully. As for Boba, they did not keep an eye on him anymore than was necessary. Boba, in fact, felt quite safe and in his element.
Out of the corner of his eye, Boba noticed three light-skinned Humans watching from near the barracks. Two Human males and a Human female, all in their late teens, had their eyes zeroed in on the newcomers to the base. Boba could tell immediately that they were other bounty hunters, or guns for hire. Clean, new armor, with no dents or marks or scratches, and outfits that had just been put together. They were fresh and ready for some action.
Bane followed Boba's gaze and almost instantly Boba could see the nickname "Greens" flash through Bane's mind. The greens looked back at them. Their eyes brightened when they laid eyes on the Duros bounty hunter.
Boba heard a word whispered between them. Were he not in such an optimistic state of mind, Boba might have cringed. It was an ugly, vulgar word, tossed around the Galactic Core by Humans, usually the younger crowd, when referring to a reptilian humanoid sentient. Boba had seen the word increasingly used in popular media, and even to decorate clothing items for young adults. To think that the same word had been banned in some star systems only ten years ago.
The word, of course, did not escape Bane. He didn't even try to hide his outward reaction to it. Clenching his jaw as he tore his gaze from the bright-eyed greens, Bane pulled out a pack of deathsticks from his pocket and held it up.
"I suppose you'll want to take this as well? Here, keep the whole pack. They could have been poisoned for all you know, and I might share them with everyone in the barracks. Or they could be rigged with nanodroids and I'm about to pass them right inside the base, under your watch. We can't have that, can we?" Bane yelled.
The guards frowned at him, suddenly appearing impatient and fed up. "We did not request that you hand over the deathsticks. But if you're implying—"
"Oh of course I'm not implying anything. Maybe I'm just commenting on your incompetency. If you really knew who I was, you'd know to search everywhere, because you have no telling what sort of tricks I have up my sleeve. You should know who I am. I'm Cad Bane. I was the best hunter of them all during the war."
Boba bit back a loud groan. What in the hell was Bane thinking?! Was he trying to get himself killed? The way he played with his own mortality so casually, so eloquently, did it mean Bane saw this as no more than a game? Was he just here to entertain himself? Did he really believe that anyone cared who he had been during the war? That anything before the Galactic Empire even mattered?
No…that couldn't be right. Surely Bane would know better than that. He had to know better. Bane would not have been this dumbed down in seven years, nor would he be so ignorant about the Empire.
He wasn't bragging about his long-since-dead reputation to the Empire…he was bragging to himself.
Is he doing all of this on purpose? And if so, why? Boba wondered.
In response to Bane's egotistical outburst, the three greens burst out laughing. One of the guards asked Boba a couple questions about his new business partner, leading Boba with no choice but to confirm Bane's neutrality and take his side. Finally, the guards stepped back and let them inside.
"Bane, was it? Cad Bane?" the Human female asked.
Bane looked at them, but did not answer. His red eyes burned a new level of hatred and disgust.
"Give me your hat," she said.
The two other Humans stifled laughs. Boba, who continued to walk past the guards so he could make his way to the headquarters and fill out his report, slowed down only to see how Bane would react.
As for Bane, he had given Boba a fleeting glance that Boba could only interpret as, "Do any goddamn kids these days know who the hell they're talking to?" To which, Boba shrugged. As if he could say much in either party's defense. Besides, maybe Boba could find amusement in this particular exchange.
Bane looked back at the three greens. "Excuse me?"
"I want your hat. Give it here."
The other two greens chimed in. "Come on, Bane. Give us your hat. And your jacket too, they match well together. Give them there."
Already, it seemed to Boba that Cad Bane had forgotten everything else going on in the galaxy. That he was working for Boba Fett under the same contract Boba had signed on with the Empire, that he was in an Imperial base, that he was a non-Human speaking to a group of Humans, and that Boba was watching the whole time.
"Why don't you go on home to your parents? Don't you have homework to do?" Bane snapped.
"I get the jacket, we'll take turns with the hat. You don't need them. They're wasted on you."
"Who the hell do you think you are ordering me around?"
The noise attracted a few troopers currently off-duty, heading back to the barracks from the mess hall. They paused to see what was going on, and must have been slightly surprised to see an older Duros yelling at three young Humans who were laughing at him. Boba stood a little taller as he watched the scene continue to unfold. The slight sting of something that he hated began to stir in the back of his heart, although he repeatedly denied he felt anything of the sort. He hated that feeling, much less when it was towards someone he had decided he would no longer feel anything for, if not revenge, for business purposes.
Perhaps it was more pity than compassion that Boba was feeling. Pity that the most fearless bounty hunter of the war, a true legend who had been remembered for years, was now reduced to this. It seemed like a waste of talent, skill, and experience. The longer Boba watched, the more it convinced him that pitiful could not be a more accurate word to describe it.
The three Human bounty hunters' requests became slightly more demanding. Finally, one of them shouted,
"You're working for Fett, aren't you? We're working for the Empire just as he is. That makes us a higher rank than you under Imperial contract, so you have to do what we say!"
"Go fuck yourself," Bane said coldly. But the fight had already left him.
The female bounty hunter looked at Boba, as if for confirmation of her statement. Then Bane looked at him as well, clearly hoping that Boba would confirm the exact opposite.
Boba sighed. Why did he had to be dragged into Bane's personal drama yet again? It really wasn't fair.
"Well, she's not wrong. They signed the same contract I did. Since you're working for me, that does lower you in rank," Boba said curtly. There, he did it. Now to remove himself from the drama and on to pressing matters that were of actual importance. He turned on his heel and made his way to the headquarters for an update on the mission, as well as any extra information his employers may have transferred to him during his journey from the Kessel System. Boba sometimes forgot that he did not mind being an observer, but he hated being dragged into things when he didn't want to be.
Meanwhile, the three greens eyed the Duros with bright, hungry eyes.
"You heard him, old breed. You have to do what we say. Hand them over."
Bane glared at them, not saying anything. Then he took off his hat and threw it at them, then discarded his jacket as well, remaining silent all the while. One of them grabbed it and began cleaning it off.
"Careful," one of them said. "It might be carrying diseases."
"That's just a myth. Duros do not carry diseases."
"It's true, though. Everyone knows it," one said, who enjoyed looking at the hat but did not want to touch it.
Bane was about to add one last cutting remark, something on how they were all going to catch some horrible disease that made their skin turn blue and turned their stomachs inside out, but he had lost the strength. He turned away and walked on to follow the young Fett.
Meanwhile, Boba tried to make sense of what had happened. Why Bane would follow orders that were solely meant to disgrace and humiliate him. Why he had given up so easily and fallen for their act. Whatever happened to the hunter Boba once knew.
To Takira, the small rebel base on that isolated moon was freezing. The other rebels said it was only moderate temperatures, but having lived on Tatooine for nine years, anywhere else would feel cold, and Takira hated that fact. She wore all three sweaters that she owned, and some additional blankets she stole wherever she could find them, but the shivers continued still.
Maybe if she had actually done some traveling during those nine years, instead of staying on Tatooine the whole time, she wouldn't be so miserable right now. Now she remembered during her fourteenth or fifteenth year, when she had been especially anxious and wanting to have a change of pace or scenery. One evening, she had proposed to Cad that they take a short trip. Nothing exotic or expensive. Just a simple little trip to a non-desert planet, for once. Somewhere with a lot more eye-popping scenery than Tatooine. Something that would inspire her drawings and make her feel alive again and cheer her up when she was down in the dumps. He had rejected the idea so quickly and coldly that Takira couldn't bear to try asking again until weeks later.
Maybe his repeated declines at the offer wouldn't have been so hard on her, had Cad never traveled either. But while he went to other star systems for work, she had to stick around at home. Granted, he never went far from Tatooine, but at least he got to leave at all. She got stuck on the same place.
Couldn't have hurt to at least do a little traveling.
The more she thought about it—all those times she read about the beautiful nature landscapes on Naboo, or the cities on Empress Teta or Alderaan—the more her mood worsened. She didn't just feel cranky because of the cold, or anxious because she was always looking out for Alaric in case he tried to find her, but depressed. Depressed that the first time she left Tatooine in nine years had to be when she was, in a sense, by herself. That if it had all gone Cad's way, she never would have left Tatooine at all, and spent the rest of her dull life working as a bartender in some crummy spaceport, surrounded by farmers and smugglers and fugitive vermin that passed through. Now she was gone and she was here and it didn't feel good at all. Finally, leaving Tatooine should have made her happy. Instead, she felt lonelier than ever, being away from all her familiarities.
On her first night at the rebel base, Takira felt a strong urge to get out by herself. Have some alone time. Hear her own thoughts for the first time in nearly two weeks since she left for Mos Espa. Stretch her limbs and get to know her own emotions again.
Once she was certain all the other medical personnel in the room had fallen asleep, she grabbed her blankets and slipped outside. She did not have to walk around the base far before she found one of the several watch towers on the edge of the base. Fortunately, she noticed that this one was not being used because of previous damage, so no one would be up there.
Without thinking of the possible consequences for sneaking around after dark, she climbed up the tower, slow so as not to slip and fall. Once at the top, she made herself comfortable by bundling up in all the blankets. From the tower's window, she had a good view of the Terminus system up in the sky, as well as the stars surrounding them.
She had never been able to see a planet so up close before. It made her a little dizzy at first.
Still, doing this reminded her of when she would climb onto the roof of the house to see the lights from the small town in the distance. Cad did always hate it when she did that. He would go on and on about how one day she would fall and break an arm or a leg or her neck. She remembered laughing at him for claiming such things. How could she be so clumsy as to fall off the roof?
One day, she did fall off the roof, just like Cad warned. She did not break any bones, but she had the wind knocked out of her and her head hurt for a few hours.
"I told you," he had said angrily as he had laid her down on the couch with an ice pack on her head. "Dammit, you're so stupid. I told you, I told you."
Takira squeezed her eyes shut, chasing away the memory. Now, years later, she recalled the tremor in his voice, how he lashed out without reason. He had been terrified.
He had said so many things that dug a little deeper than she liked to admit. Words that made her never want to do anything ever again. Words that tempted her to get up and run away from the house and have an adventure of her own. And she liked to tell herself she had good enough reason to stay angry because of those words. But at the end of it, deep down, she probably knew he did not mean any of it. At least, now she knew that. So much more had been happening beneath the surface that she, a child still trying to learn and heal and grow, could not understand. It hurt so much to understand.
Takira sighed and began searching her pockets for something to fiddle with, maybe some string or one of her trinket traveling friends. Her hands craved busyness, distraction.
She felt something she had not expected and pulled it out. When she remembered what it was, her heart ached. It was the cigarette pack she had stolen from Bane.
She pulled one out from the pack and sniffed at it, then decided against trying her first smoke tonight after all. For a moment, she thought about it throwing it in the trash or as far away from the tower as she could.
But just as she held it tight and prepared to pitch it, she stopped herself. The cigarette smelled just like the garage back home, a place still teeming with some of the best memories of her life.
Bane, who smoked a lot, could easily go through a whole pack on some of those afternoons they spent working on equipment and idly wasting time, griping about the little things of life. When they were up for it, they raced to see who could get the engine on their speeder working first. The loser had to cook dinner.
She held the cigarette to her nose again, inhaling the scent deeply. When she could not take it anymore, she returned it to its place and put the pack of cigarettes back where she found them. She decided to hang on to them for a little while longer.
Even something as simple as cigarettes made her feel not so alone anymore, in this strange place full of people she did not know and forthcoming events she had no control over. A faint memory of the home she had left behind, and would quite possibly never see again, could carry her through this uncertainty. And it was ironic. Despite what she always thought running away and being on her own would feel like, a part of Takira yearned for the old familiars. The habits, the routines, no more than a dozen voices she knew by heart and heard over and over again as each week went by. She wanted to wake up in the same old bed with her same old drawings and trinkets surrounding her.
Or maybe she was just going insane.
Silly to spend all of her teenage years craving adventure. And now that Takira finally got the adventure she wanted, homesickness drove her crazy. Go figure.
A/N: So I know a lot was going on in this chapter but hopefully readers weren't too confused!
Yes, I'm basically establishing that Takira is coming to terms with her own sexuality, and it's hitting her all at once that she may be homosexual. More into that later on, of course.
My OC Rajj has an interesting backstory. She jumped into the third arc of "Wake the Ashes" at the last minute, during my final stages of plotting the outline. She was loosely inspired by the character Sabine Wren from the show Star Wars: Rebels, and basically represents a lot of the side to Sabine that I wish would be touched on...but won't be, because of the context of Rebels and the audience it caters to. I know that "Wake the Ashes" has ended up featuring quite a number of OC's for each arc I introduce, but besides Takira, I think Rajj has become my favorite out of all of them. Hope you guys enjoy how the rest of her role plays out, as this story approaches the beginning of the end.
And then there is the scene with Bane and the other "greens" hired by the Empire. I still can't believe I actually threw away his hat. Such an iconic symbol of Bane's character, his story, and his legacy as a bounty hunter. Interpret the loss of Bane's hat how you will for now...
