3/21/2
They're a billion klicks from anything. Light years beyond the nearest system.
Just Jacen, Chewie, Finn, a passle of Porgs. (And fuck, if he thought Critt and Savarah petting away all night was annoying, sharing a bunk with the fucking porgs is just… Ugh! Okay, yes, it's hazing, and yes, tonight Chewie will magically find somewhere other than his bunk for them to go, but… Yuck! He really liked that shirt, and Porg chewing is not improving it any, and it's not like there's anywhere on Lirium to get a new one. Maybe there'll be time for shopping on this trip. He did bring his credit stick, just in case.)
And space as far as the eye can see, and well beyond.
All right kid. Open her up!
Chewie's in the co-pilot seat. He's cool, collected, a little smug. He's heard Jacen talk about the flying pile of junk, but it's clear that he's enjoying what he knows is going to happen next. Finn's in one of the passenger seats behind, nervous. These days he can pilot, but he doesn't enjoy doing it. He's a lot happier in the gunner's tower, or on the ground making deals. That said, he'd rather be flying the Falcon than sitting back there hoping Jacen actually knows what the fuck he's doing with this ship.
Jacen lays his hand on the throttle and thinks about what Kylo didn't say. What his father didn't say to him. That opening the Falcon up and letting her fly was smooth as lips sliding over a wet shaft.
He eases the throttle forward, feels that half a heartbeat where the engines catch, and… all the air in the ship pulls into his lungs in a deep shuddering breath, and a sound highly reminiscent of the one that slipped out of his mouth two years ago when Billy Pryce got down on his knees and made his year falls out of Jacen's mouth.
Another shuddering breath, while he puts the Falcon through turns tighter, faster, and more precise than anything he's ever done before.
Chewie's sitting next to him, beaming.
After half an hour and ninety-thousand klicks, Jacen says, "Oh baby, I take back every mean thing I ever said about you! Chewie, I love her!"
Chewie settles back against his seat, hands behind his head, satisfied smirk on his face. Then he says, Good, now do something useful. H'Rada system. Plot the course and take us there.
"Yes, sir!"
Apparently, Chewie likes that, too.
"So, what's in the H'Rada system?" Jacen asks an hour later. This part of the trip is kind of dull. The course is plotted, the Falcon is doing its thing, Chewie and Finn are playing Dejarik, and Jacen's supposedly "studying." They've got him reading up on the Falcon's specs, so if needs be, he can jackleg mechanic, but…
He's not a mechanic, he's a pilot.
First and foremost, fuel. Chewie says.
"Leads," Finn adds. "Jobs. Things that have to go from one place to another."
Don't fly with an empty hold. H'Rada has fuel, and often cargo, so that's the first stop.
"From there, we see what needs to go where, spend a day or so reading up, and then plot a course that'll hopefully result in a full hold, and credits in the account, each step of the way."
Jacen nods at that. "Okay. What do you want me to do?"
"On this run, mostly sit quiet, watch and learn," Finn says.
Don't talk.
"I'm good at talking."
"Yeah, we know." Finn says, "But shut it until you learn some more."
Jacen rolls his eyes, but… Finn's not wrong, he's learning.
Jacen supposes that, to a degree, all space ports have to look somewhat similar. A long, flat spot to plant the ships. Machines for mechanics to work on the ships. Fuel slugs creeping through delivering fuel. Mechanics in greasy, dirty coveralls, and pilots, many of whom are also in greasy, dirty coveralls swarming those ships, working on them.
Sort of like how every restaurant kitchen has to, on some level, look, more or less, the same. It's there for a reason, and the things that allow it to do that are all the same.
Still, it's only the third port he's been in, and he mostly wants to just stand around and gawk. Talk about finding the balance point. This feels good. He's not going to be a mechanic. He knows that, but he can feel how being one of the pilots, the legions of guys in jumpsuits, or swaggering around in… It's not a uniform, but he's got more of a sense of why Poe dresses the way he does. A LOT of men and women here are in slim trousers, blaster tied down shootist-style on the hip, and leather jackets.
Plus, the swagger of the place. It feels good in here. His kind of good. And, again, empathy may not be his strong suit, but this many people projecting this much of an image...
Yeah, he feels it.
And is, apparently, responding to it. Pulling himself up, swaggering along, wishing he had a leather jacket, too.
"Walk small," Finn says to him, out of the corner of his mouth. Though Jacen's noticed he, too, has acquired something of a scoundrel's swagger, too.
"Why?" Most everyone else is strutting around here. This is very much not the sort of place where walking small is going to get you any slack.
"Because you are the small one here."
Jacen gets what Finn is saying. He wants to make sure that people know they're dealing with him and not Jacen. And he knows why. "I'm taller than you are."
"I'm older." Finn's voice is pointed. But between the height, and the beard, and the fucking voice command, he's not sure if they will deal with him over Jacen.
"By what, five years?"
Finn squints at Jacen. "How old are you?"
"Seventeen."
"Seven. And don't forget it." Jacen gets a flash of the conversation Finn's trying not to think about. This is, apparently, the first time Finn's been out on one of these runs, in charge of things, on his own. Chewie's been letting him do all the talking for a while, but… It's easy to make a deal when you've got 2.3 meters of seen-everything-and done-it-all-wookie standing behind you.
With a bowcaster.
And a reputation even bigger than he is.
It's not just Jacen who's training here, it's Finn, too.
"That's barely older," Jacen says. He shouldn't. Finn's nervous and doesn't want to fuck this up. He's got this untested, unknown kid by his side, and after a bit more than a year, Chewie's finally letting him scope and make the deals on his own. Jacen mentally rolls his eyes, and draws himself in. He's not slouching, but he does shift his posture and attitude a bit. "Better?"
"Yes. Thank you."
"Where are we going?"
"Dam's cantina. There's usually something going on there. Stick close, okay?"
"Glued to your ass."
Finn looks slightly startled at that. "Maybe not that close, okay?"
Jacen smirks at him. "The blaster for show, or is this the kind of place you might need it?"
"Mostly for show."
"Why don't I have one, then?"
"Mostly. And, because I know when to pull one, and you don't."
Jacen shrugs a bit, deciding that, to a degree, that's fair enough. He's fairly sure that he's a much better judge of if someone around them is a serious threat than Finn is, but Finn's likely better at reading a whole room than he is. He glances at the blaster and rolls his eyes at himself. He's getting caught up in the image of this. Among other things, Jacen doesn't know how to shoot, so… "Lead on, Master Tico."
And Finn does.
The hanger is not Jacen's place.
It was close to his place.
But it wasn't his place.
This is his place.
Dam's. It's a hive of scum and villainy and people who make their fortunes by their mouths and wits and guts and… He loves it in here. It's almost as good as opening up the Falcon.
It'll be better when he's allowed to be something other than Finn's shadow. But right now, this is good. They sidle up to the bar, and Finn orders for both of them. He's not thrilled with the cider that Finn gets him, but… Well, that was the downside of asking silently for rum in his coffee, Finn doesn't know he can handle at least one drink.
But he can.
Finn takes his, turns his back to the bar, and scans the crowd. He's watching everyone around them, and Jacen takes a sip of his drink. Not only is it cider, it's shit cider. This is probably half water, a quarter beer, and a quarter cider. Cheap as hell.
You can hear me like this, right?
Jacen also watches the crowd. Yes, you getting this back?
Finn blinks. Yes.
Lovely. What?
I'm only swallowing every third or fourth time. I'll spill a little later. When I get to the second or third one, I'll keep my movements loose and slur a little. People here think I'm something of a drunk, but it helps the deals go down.
I can keep the lie going. So, what's up first?
To your left. Connor McDall. He's going to show up. Not sure how long he's gonna take, sometimes it's right away, sometimes it's hours, but he'll be by. You're going to listen quietly. I'm gonna talk.
Jacen nods, and watches.
It's a matter of seconds. Finn's barely finished thinking it when McDall's ushering them over to a table.
"Where's your partner?" McDall asks Finn once they sit down at one of the tables tucked into the nooks around the outside perimeter at Dam's.
"Tending to the bird."
"You have a kid when we weren't looking?" He's watching Jacen, and wondering who he is, and why he's here, and if that mark means what he thinks it does.
"Connor, this is Jacen. Chewie and I are thinking of bringing him on."
"Why's that?" He's fairly sure the tattoo is a bond mark, and now he's wondering if Chewie decided to buy a kid.
"I'm a pilot."
Connor looks surprised. "Young one." His eyes narrow, and glance to the tattoo. Runaway. Taking on a runaway is the sort of move Chewie would make. Lot of shared history there. He's wondering if there's a bounty on Jacen, and if it might be high enough to risk burning Chewie. Slaves with skills are valuable, though… And pilots even more so.
"Last I checked, we all start out this way," Jacen says, and makes Connor stop thinking about checking into his past and if he's wanted anywhere. He's not, or at least shouldn't be. Anyone who'd want to make a claim on his bond is dead, or at least broken, now. Still, he's almost wishing he had an Order hex on him, something to show that he's not bound any longer.
Connor smirks at that, and Jacen can see Finn relax. He's okay with this, as long as he stays quiet when he's not being directly addressed.
Finn takes another sip of his drink, and then says, "So, we're all introduced, what's the deal? I know you didn't call us over just to catch up and be social."
McDall sips his own drink, and then grins. "It's a good one." And then he explains.
Jacen does his job. He sits. He listens, and he listens. And once McDall is done speccing out the job, he thinks to Finn. Pass on that one, it's hot.
Finn smiles, looks like he's thinking about it, maybe calculating the base cost in his head, as he thinks back, Jacen, three quarters of what we deal in is stolen. And everything we're going to get here is hot.
Jacen glances at the empty mugs, picks up all three of them, and heads for the bar. It'll be a lot less noticeable how closely he's focused on Finn and their mental conversation if his back is to them.
I know that. It's hot. Stolen from the Order, and they're looking for it. The theft went bad and they caught some of the guys on the job. That's why he's offering so much for it. Whoever gets caught with it is going to die, and the time to getting caught is getting slim.
Finn nods again. "That's less than a third of the cost. We take that off your hands, we're going to need 250,000. In specie."
McDall looks like he just bit into a chocolate covered turd. "Chewie never asks for specie."
"Chewie's not here right now, is he?"
McDall doesn't like that. His eyes narrow and he's eyeing Finn. He's wondering if Finn's on his own the first time, and showing off. "What's your game Tico?"
Finn leans back in the booth and rolls his eyes at McDall. "We watch the newsies all the damn time looking for good deals. You honestly want to believe I don't know what you're doing? You want to get that off planet before the Order shows up and shoots your ass, you're gonna pay, and pay a lot, and pay in specie. Otherwise, we've got to be just about fueled up, and getting out of here soon is probably a good plan."
Conner doesn't wince. His face doesn't shift at all. Jacen does make sure to note that word he just thought and look it up when he gets home, because it's one hell of a curse.
Jacen comes back with the refills and passes them around.
Connor takes one more sip, and then says, voice annoyed. "If you've figured out what it is, why are you willing to touch it?"
Finn holds up a hand, and then strips off his jacket and shirt. Then he turns around. Apparently, Jacen's not the only one sporting an impressive scar on his back. "Got some history with the First Order, and Ren. Wouldn't mind tweaking his nose. You make it worth the risk, I'll take it."
What the fuck are you doing?
"I can do half in specie and half in credits."
"No deal." He's putting his shirt back on. "I'm willing to risk my skin to get rich. I'm not about to do it with numbers that can be tracked."
McDall looks pained. "That's every cento I've got in specie, and passing a plate around the guys in here to get over the line."
"I'll stake you a plate." Finn's got his jacket on.
"Tico, you're killing me."
"I'm not doing anything. The Order's the one gonna kill you if you sit on this shit. They got a tracker on it?"
"Not anymore."
Jacen sips his drink. He's telling that bit true. At least, as well as he knows.
"But when they get to wherever it died, figuring out it ended up here won't take a genius."
McDall doesn't bother trying to cover that. He knows it's true, Finn knows it's true, and so does Jacen. "Yeah."
"You know the price, take it or leave it."
Connor's thinking. Finn puts his drink down, and Jacen does likewise. He starts to leave, and Jacen follows. They're almost out the door, one more step, and out.
What was that?
Wait for it.
Five steps, ten. A large man bumps into Finn, doesn't apologize, and staggers off. Finn pulls a key out of his pocket.
"In an hour there'll be a satchel in this locker. It'll have the credits and the goods." And now's probably a really good time to get a hold of Rey and figure out what the fuck to do with this shit so the Order doesn't shoot us out of the sky.
"Chewie, how good is the code on the Falcon?" Finn asks, moving fast as soon as he and Jacen are out of sight, up the ramp.
Ours are okay, and I've still got Leia's personal codes if we need better than okay.
Finn blinks, and then remembers something. Remembers Chewie finding out from Padme if Rey was okay. "You know how to get a message directly to Kylo, right?"
Chewie sighs. Don't exactly love using that.
"Yeah, well…" And then he explains how they're about to get very well paid for a very fast, straight run, if they can make sure the Order shows up after they get off this planet, and not before.
Chewie decides that's worth sending a note for.
Sixteen minutes later, in Leia's code, in written Shariwook, they get back: You've got 73 minutes until troopers land. Bring it to Lirium, and I'll pay you for it.
Jacen watches Finn and Chewie. They're thinking. Looking at the fuel tank. Thinking through when that locker is most likely to be full.
"It's cutting it close," Finn says. He knows asking for specie means that getting the cash in one place is going to take time.
Chewie agrees. You got it in specie?
"If this key leads to what I think it does. If they can find enough cash. If they actually put it in the locker. We're not going to have time to count up before we run."
"But, they'd have to put enough in to at least look like there's money in there, right?" Jacen says.
"Yeah, but they could probably get away with a half or third of the asking price."
Chewie tilts his head to the side, pondering. So, we're not totally fucked if it goes tits up.
"Just… one fewer place we can do business."
It's clear neither of them like that.
Really don't like that. Still, a job is a job.
Jacen feels it when they settle into the idea. "You're going to take it to Seti Tau?" he asks. He's… stunned. If Kylo'll pay for it if they take it home. And if they've already gotten paid to take to to Seti Tau. This… Is a no-brainer. They'll get double paid by taking it back to Lirium.
That's the deal kid. We're getting paid to take it to Seti Tau.
"We'd get paid to take it to Lirium. It's a good deal. No more fuel than you'd use otherwise. We're back home sooner than expected. Rose is happy. And we get paid. Twice! This is a good deal."
Chewie offers up a subvocal growl.
Finn sighs and begins to explain, patiently. "We are being paid to get this out of here and over to Seti Tau. If we don't do that, we can't come back here for another job. We want jobs after this one, too, Jacen. If this doesn't get to Seti Tau, McDall'll spread the word, and that will burn us."
"But if they don't put enough specie in there?" Jacen asks.
"I can promise you that if they don't, the rest of our asking price, likely plus ten percent will be in our account. He'll take the tarnish of not paying in specie, he won't take the rot of not paying period," Finn replies.
Jacen's not loving that. "Say the Order got close and you had to jettison it. If you can't sell the lie, I can. No harm, no foul, let me do the talking, and I promise you won't have to give back more than half of the shipping money, everyone is good, we all get paid."
That gets another sigh. Chewie's rubbing his forehead. Finn's doing his best not to look at Jacen.
He can feel what they're thinking. "Look, it's stupid not to do business with Kylo. Not if you can get away with it, and this one, I can make sure you get away clean on that. It's not like we're smuggling vaccines or food or something. The guys on the other end aren't going to die if they don't get these transmitters. If they were, they'd have come here to get them themselves, not hoped someone could be roped into bringing them along."
He can feel Finn wavering. Then his eyes narrow. His thoughts aren't complimentary.
"I'm not doing it! I'm just arguing with you and making sense. I actually know how to be persuasive, too, you know?"
"That's even more of a kick in the ass. How long do we have?"
Sixty-nine minutes.
"I'll hit the locker. Get us ready to go. If it's not there in fifty, we're out of here, okay?"
That's a plan they can all agree with.
There's not much to do while they wait for Finn.
Chewie double checks the hyperdrive, makes sure it's in tip top shape. Jacen makes sure the fuel is properly topped off, and then… There's just sitting around.
Finally, he says, "Okay, I don't get it, why not sell to Kylo, and don't give me the we can't come back here stuff, I can fix that. Is it just because he's… Kylo?" Jacen asks as soon as Finn's out.
Chewie sighs a bit, growls a bit, and then says, Look no one in our business likes The Order. Kylo's got some bright boys somewhere who pulled a metric ton of shit, and that's making business hard for us.
Jacen looks confused. "I thought… Didn't the Order back off on contraband, and open travel lanes, and… they're taking out raiders and…"
And cut our profit margins to the bone. We're smugglers kid. We move goods that aren't supposed to move through places they aren't supposed to go to people who aren't supposed to get them. Under the Empire something like ninety-thousand goods were illegal, and half of everything else had its price marked up like five hundred percent on value added taxes.
He can see he's lost Jacen who isn't making the connections that are obvious to Chewie, and anyone else in his game.
There's always a market for illegal goods. And it'll be a good one. An expensive one. Because illegal shit is dangerous to carry around. High risk, high reward. Under the Empire a lot of the illegal stuff was small, easy to carry, not particularly dangerous unless you ingested it in too large a quantity, and that made for good payoffs for people like me. Now, the only stuff the Order still has banned is big, dangerous no matter what, difficult to move, and generally speaking, the kind of people who want it aren't the kind of people you want to sell it to. Han and I never had any problem hooking up the local recreational pharmacologist with goodies to sell. That business is gone. If I still want to move illegal shit, it means taking more Rathnors and the like, and they're just… shit to move.
Jacen nods. "Too high of a risk for the available reward."
Exactly.
"Taxes?"
Best thing that ever happened to me and mine is a value added tax. It's a fucking goldmine for smugglers. Mine the shit out of the planet, pay a tax on it. Ship it to somewhere to refine it, pay a tax on it. Ship the refined stuff to a factory to make parts out of it, pay a tax on it. Ship the parts to a manufacturer to make something out of the parts, pay a tax on it. Ship the finished thing to a market, pay a tax on it. Buy it from the market, pay a tax on it. Any time anyone did anything that 'added value' to a thing, they had to pay a tax on it. And once it was finished and went to market, they paid a sales tax on top of that.
Any step of that where I provide the transportation, and some forged tax stickers, everyone's better off. Especially me.
"The Order doesn't do a value added tax?"
Right. Some fucknut in the Order said, 'Hey, how about we just charge a straight tonnage fee for anything that moves through our space,' and suddenly it's only a few centos per credit more expensive to do it legally than illegally, so most people opt for legal. Which means half of my, and everyone else in this business's trade vanished overnight. A third of it was moving illegal shit from place to place. There's still local markets for that, and, like you see, there's always a market for stolen goods, but used to be, I could lay hands on… Cigarras for example, and run them from one side of the galaxy to the other, and make bank on them. Now, you can just buy them in the local apothecary, and respectable fuckwits ship them with medipacks and vitamins for the cost of fuel and 5% markup.
Taking out the raiders means the risk of any given trip is gone. Means the cost is lower. You don't need a ship as fast and nimble as mine to get through any part of Order controlled space, because you're never more than a call away from someone who'll show up with a billion tons of firepower to absolutely crush any raider who tries to lay a hand on you.
When Han and I started in this game, under the Empire, there were millions of these little ports all over the galaxy. Since the Order showed up and made taking shit from place to place safer and less expensive… Everyone is going legit.
"You and Finn?"
Chewie looks positively heartbroken. Yeah, any given day now, we're moving legit goods, too. It's boring, the profits are minuscule, barely enough to have a good time after maintenance and wages are paid.
"Wait, you pay wages?" That floors Jacen. He never actually thought about what Finn gets out of this arrangement.
Yeah. Keep the ship moving, first. Pay yourself, next. Every month. Then we pay anyone we owe. If there's anything left after that, we sometimes pay our taxes. Doesn't hurt to have a few legit entries in our books. Then, if there's anything left, we split it.
"So… You don't want to sell to Kylo because… he's unintentionally fucking your business by making it easier to legally trade stuff?"
Chewie grows at that.
"Huh."
You catch what we're getting for this run?
Jacen nods. "Oh yeah."
If that wasn't stolen cargo, and if the Order wasn't hot on our tail, that run would get us less than a tenth of that price. You can live on that, but not well.
"Oh."
Forty-five minutes later, Finn ambles on in, a satchel over his shoulder, pulling a hand truck behind him.
"Punch it, Chewie."
Forty-six minutes later, space bends into streaks of light as the zoom into the sky.
As Chewie and Finn are counting up the specie, Jacen notices that they're on route to Seti Tau, but he doesn't say anything. Wether he will, to Kylo, later, is something he'll think about.
He does have one question though. "Uh, once the Order tosses Dam's looking for their stuff, are they going to be hot on our ass when they realize it's not there?"
Finn smirks.
Chewie grins.
"They're certainly going to try," Finn looks really pleased with that.
Rose has a few tricks up her sleeve. Chewie adds.
"And one of those tricks is…" He hits another button. A soft kerrthwack sound rattles through the Falcon, followed by the pressure of lightspeed pushing them back into their seats. "Can't launch it in lightspeed, but once it's off, hop away, fast."
"What is it?"
"It's a scrambler decoy. Won't last too long, but once it picks up anything using Order frequencies, it'll bounce them around and fuck 'em up for two hours. More than long enough to make sure there'll be nothing of us for them to track."
"That's what Rose builds when she's in the workshop?"
Finn smiles. "Smart, beautiful, and good with her hands. I got the whole package when I married her, kid."
"So, what's the plan?" Jacen asks as they're heading toward Seti Tau.
"For this one, we're just dropping it off. We take proof of receipt, and we're done."
Jacen's got a curious look on his face. Receipts are also not part of how he understands this job. It's apparently more complicated than fly fast and look cool.
"So, if McDall decides to fuss about us not getting the job done, we've got proof we did it," Finn replies.
Jacen nods.
Chewie's coming along for this part. Not everyone likes to give a receipt, and well, maybe they don't like it, but they rarely tell him to fuck off.
Then we settle in for a bit, do some research, see what's cheap here and expensive somewhere else. That's the kind of legit goods we take.
"Ish," Finn says. "Usually if it's really cheap somewhere, and expensive somewhere else, it's gonna be illegal somewhere else, but, at least en route, we're not carrying hot stuff."
For right now, research, though.
"And we do it in a place other traders can see us, so if they want to drop by for a chat, we're ready to talk."
"So… you sit around in a bar, sipping a drink, reading the newsies?" Jacen's not sure if this is the coolest job ever, or the most boring.
Pretty much, actually.
They're still an hour out when Finn settles next to Jacen. For a moment, he's just looking. At least, that's what it looks like from the outside. It's not how Jacen understands it, so he answers the unasked question.
"It's like listening to a conversation on the far side of the wall. If the neighbors are yelling, it's really easy. If you've got something else to pay attention to it's easy to ignore. Sometimes, you leave the house, and you can't hear it at all."
Finn blinks slowly. "Do you… hear it… like… words?"
"Sometimes," Jacen says. "Or I'll catch images. Depends on how you think. Most people think in images, so I usually get it that way. Some think in sounds and words, so for them that's how I get it."
Chewie looks up from the newsie he's reading. How's the leaving part work?
Jacen shrugs. "Just like leaving the house… I can't get a sense of what anyone back home is thinking right now because I'm too far away." He thinks about that. "Okay, if I really focused on someone back home, I could probably get it, but... People I know well, you know? You two, less than two meters away, focused on me, me focused on you, are very bright and clear."
"So, you just… feel everything we're thinking?"
Jacen shakes his head. "I can but generally don't. You speak galactic standard and have made it clear you don't like me in your head. So, I ignore you as much as I can, and we talk to communicate. Mostly. You sitting down and staring at me while wondering about me isn't something I can ignore. Chewie's different. I don't actually speak Kashyycistan or whatever, so I've got to focus hard on Chewie to follow what he's saying. I get enough images from him that I'm okay at figuring out what he's saying.
Shariwook.
"Yeah, that meant nothing to me."
"He speaks Shariwook, not Kashyycistan."
Jacen files that away. "And that's the sort of thing that you won't have an image for, and the word means nothing to me because I don't speak the language he thinks in."
Chewie and Finn stare at each other.
"What happens if you're in a crowd?" Finn asks.
"I learned young to get good at ignoring it. Especially when it's not aimed at me, tuning it out is fairly easy. If you can't keep the voices quiet or filter them out, especially in groups, you go insane."
And Chewie and Finn suddenly know that Jacen isn't exaggerating or speaking metaphorically.
He shrugs a bit. "Mum couldn't block it out. Other than he or one of his kin must have had red hair, they don't know who my dad is. My mom was locked up at the time. She couldn't make the voices shut up, and Kylo thinks she could probably feel what they were feeling, too. Granda said a few things that back that up over the years.
"That's a bad combination, if you can't control it.
"I just get the thoughts, unless I work at it, or the situation is right. That's easier, I guess. She had both sides of it, and she'd hurt herself to try and make it stop. I think they kept her very heavily drugged. She, obviously, was not supposed to get pregnant in there. Granda took her home, but we lived in a city, and shortly after I was born, she killed herself. At least, that's what he said. I don't remember it. I think he was lying. He could shield his own thoughts, and when I was young, I could only get impressions, not full thoughts. He knew I had a lot of her 'gifts' and thought it would be less scary than telling me that she had to go off to live completely alone, away from everyone else, even me, because it was the only way for her to find any peace.
"He was a good man." Jacen looks sad about that. "I was twelve when he died." He smiles a bit, but it's a sad smile. Chewie lays his hand on Jacen's shoulder and nods at him.
They're in sight of Seti Tau when Finn says, "You gonna tell Ren where his stuff ended up?"
Jacen shrugs. He knows there are a lot of intense feelings there, and he can see how Finn thinks of Kylo, so he can assumewhat they likely are, but he doesn't know what they are. "You going to ask me not to?"
"They're hot goods, and we'll tell 'em why they're hot, so they can't trace the Order showing up to us, but we're better off with this outpost up and working, you know?"
Jacen inclines his head. "I imagine, if you were to say something like that, he might just send a few people in to buy the stuff back. You might get him thinking in new directions, especially if he's serious about this trade thing being easier and working better than marching in and stomping everyone's spines into mush."
Finn's eyes narrow. He doesn't like that.
Jacen pushes a little more. "I get you don't like—"
Even if Jacen couldn't read the vibrant NO that arcs through Finn's head, he reads body language well enough to see the massive wave of defensive posture that leaps into place on Finn's body. "No, you don't!"
Stuff it. Landing soon.
Dropping off the goods is a lot less exciting than Jacen had been hoping.
The port. That part is great. Even bigger than the last one, with more ships, more pilots, more… everything. And they walk by several cantinas that look extremely promising. But they keep walking.
And then… Get in a cab… Okay, he's not talking because he's trying to look like he knows what the fuck he's doing, but… They just walked out of the port, past all the seedy deal zones, into the city proper, and got in a hired speeder, and now they're zooming through a decent sized city, which is nice, but…
And they're at a… This is a business. Like, a real business. With… a store front, and big glass windows showing off goods, and… middle aged people who look like they've got credits are milling around looking at electronics, talking to clerks.
It's clear that he's looking perplexed. Chewie doesn't say anything but he does look at Jacen, and then thinks, The best way to sell stolen goods is to sell a lot of legit ones, too.
Jacen blinks in understanding.
These are hot transistors. Really hot transistors. Stolen from the Order transistors. Put them in a real store, one that has things like inventory records and shipping manifests and… He nods, slowly.
They're identical to the transistors anyone else uses, too. If anyone asks, the people who run this place will be able to show that they ordered, received, and bought them legitimately.
They do go around the back, to the loading and unloading bay.
"Chewie!" The man who probably owns the place heads down the back stairs to them, opens his arms wide, and clasps the wookie in a bright hug. "I didn't know McDall'd gotten you into this."
Chewie waves that off.
"Right place, right time," Finn chips in with. Then he pushes the handcart a little further forward, and the man takes the handle.
"My gain, then. It's always good to have dependable people moving things around."
Chewie pulls a micro datapad out of his crossbelt, and snaps a quick shot of the man with the goods.
"Extra dependable. They're Order goods, originally. Make sure you've scrubbed 'em clean before you try to move them," Finn adds.
That gets a raised eyebrow. "How close behind?"
"We got reliable intel that we got out less than an hour before they hit dirt."
"They got a track on you?" The shop owner asks, starting to look like he's thinking twice about holding onto these.
"Oh, come on." Finn smiles wide and Chewie howls in derision at the idea. "We're fucking ghosts. No one tracks us."
"I've heard that." The man looks at Jacen. "New friend?"
"Something like that," Finn says. "New blood, we're testing him out."
"Ah." The man pats the handcart. "Well, I thank you for this."
"No problems."
Chewie's playing with the microdatapad and then nods.
Finn glances at the pad, and nods. "And McDall knows you've taken receipt."
The man nods back, and Chewie gives him another hug, and then they're leaving.
It's not until they're back in the Falcon that Jacen says, "That's it?"
For this one.
"You don't talk at these things, either?" Jacen asks.
He never learned to understand me.
"Is that mostly what Han did, talked to people?"
I found the good deals, he set them up. I'm a better shot. He was a better pilot. We were… good together.
"Oh." They're quiet. "Now what?"
Chewie glances at the chrono. Eat, sleep. Up and at it in the morning.
The Falcon has one refresher. It's small, has a water shower, because the fuel processing produces water as a side effect of making energy, and that water is always hot, because it's part of the cooling system.
According to Chewie, it's one part of this bird that works, reliably, in all situations. Likely because Lando always wanted to be clean and pretty.
Finn's finishing up his nightly ablutions. He's in a pair of shorts, and blotting his hair off when Jacen knocks on the door.
"Can't you hold it?"
"I want to talk."
Finn hits the door and it slides open. Jacen's in front of him, in a pair of trousers and a tank top.
He looks down at Finn. "I do get it, you know? I mean, I get it better than anyone you've ever met. I can't feel your fear, but I got to ride along on your memories as you were taking your shirt off. I know how every time you see him, you check your blaster and look for the exits. I know he's why you still wear a blaster when you're out and about at home. And I know you do it because you know you can't win the fight against him. I know what your mental image of him is, and, by the way, it's off by twenty kilometers. He does not look like that. He's big and kind of grump, but he's not that big or mean looking. And he doesn't even carry the saber around Lirium. He intentionally goes unarmed there these days.
"I know you're afraid. I know you're angry. I can see the red tinges of your mental images of that fight."
Finn's eyes narrow, and he's not looking happy about any of this.
"And I know the last thing you want to hear about is how he's not as bad of a guy as you think he is. So, I'm not trying to convince you to like him. I'm here to make you understand why I do."
Jacen turns his back to Finn and pulls his shirt off.
The very sharp hiss of an inhaled breath breaks the quiet followed by, "Fuck… Jacen… Shit… You said, but…" Jacen can feel Finn's eyes trailing over his back. He knows it looks like a collection of spastic snakes were frozen under his skin, except it's not really skin, not anymore. These days it's more like shiny pinkish-white leather. It doesn't hurt him, not anymore. He's numb from between his shoulder blades to the top third of his buttocks, but he can feel the pain Finn feels at seeing it.
Jacen turns around, and pulls his shirt back on. "They go down to just above the part of your ass you sit on. Like I said, my Granda was a good man. But he died in debt. So, they sold everything but the clothes on my back to pay those debts, and when that didn't cover it, they sold me." He offers Finn a bitter smile. "Apparently, the clothing came free, with me.
"They held me down and tattooed me. And I can feel what you're thinking. Yes, if they'd been people, I could have gotten myself out, even then, but they weren't. The Petrarchs of Anila figured out a long time ago that people have a soft spot for other people, especially children. The overseers were all droids. Couldn't be bribed, couldn't get fond of us, just… followed orders.
"Order the first." He taps the tattoo on his face. "It's a special pigment. You can cover it with makeup, but they'll catch it on their sensors. You can laser it so it'll fade, but enough'll be left for the sensors to catch it. Expensive, skilled slaves are always a flight risk, so every space port… You can't get on a ship without getting scanned. Can't get into the port without being scanned.
"There is literally no way off planet for anyone with this mark, unless your owner takes you, or you get to an Order recruiting station. And you've got to fight to get to Order stations. The Petrarchs won't risk a direct attack on an Order station, that's asking to get themselves killed, but they've got armed squads patrolling around them.
"I didn't… Settle in well. Took… persuading, to get into my role. But eventually, I was well-enough trained to be one of the stars of our circus. People'd line up for hours to get to chat with me. And I'm the best damn cold reader anyone's ever met. I can tell fortunes that'll make your blood freeze they're so fucking accurate."
Finn's nodding slowly, really looking at Jacen, seeing past him, younger him, and how he was used. "You just pulled what they wanted to hear out of their heads."
He smiles, it's not happy. "Not always what they wanted to hear."
"Oh."
"That got more scars. People who get happy fortunes come back and tell their friends. Sons of bitches who tell slavers that their wives are cheating on them with their best friends, their kids aren't their own, and the ghosts of their nearest and dearest are rotting in eternal perdition because of their actions get burned." It's clear from the look on Jacen's face that he still thinks some of it was worth it.
"Shit." Finn's staring, and Jacen knows what he's wondering.
"No, I don't know why I'm not more dark. Possibly because, like Rey's talked about, if you need to, you can sort of pull your brain out of your head, and have the bad shit just happen to your body. You know it happened, but it's more like something you've read than experienced. Healing up still hurt like a bitch, but they were careful. It's just skin damage, and they didn't ever let it get infected. Wouldn't do if I was too sick to work."
"Fuck."
Jacen nods at that. "Exactly. Anyway, I'm fourteen, and I catch a thought about the First Order coming. Ren hadn't changed it yet, so it still was the First Order then. At first, people are scared that they're going to destroy the place, and by that point, anything that'd fuck those bastards over is good by me. The First Order could burn that planet to ash, with me on it, and as long as they died, too, I'd be fine with it."
"How I feel about the First Order."
"Exactly. Over the next few months I get more and more bits. Ask the right question here and there, make sure they didn't remember me doing it. But we're still a thousand klicks from a recruiting station. We move though, new city every week, and then we're twenty klicks from a station. Next stop, we'll start moving further away, so this is it. Get caught outside the circus without a pass, and we're looking at trouble, but… So close. All we have to do is get inside the walls around the First Order compound, and we're free.
"One day, everyone else at our circus decided that I had a cracking good plan, getting out, running away. We wrapped our show. Closed down for the night. Mr. S8O6 didn't know what hit him, or anything else, after Turnball, he was the strongman, got done with bashing him to pieces with a hammer. Himnar, the knife and ax thrower, took care of the guards. Hosia, the lead animal handler, took care of the City Watch by starting a stampede. Synthine, the pyromancer, burnt what was left. That gets more of the Watch at the Circus and ties up traffic with the fire response team. Then we ran. Most of us didn't make it, and I only got over the wall because I could fucking levitate.
"But I can say, even without my persuasion skills, every one of us who got over the wall thought it was worth it.
"So, I guess I got myself out. But Kylo gave me a place to go. So, like I said, I don't need you to like him. I need you to stop holding it against me that I do."
Finn nods at that, too. "Look… You weren't there for the last part of our conversation, and… Probably don't need to know, and don't fucking look, okay?"
"I can read the big 'back the fuck off' walls you've got up."
"Okay. Fear is… real. Especially in the kind of work we do, paying attention to your fears and acting accordingly is a good way to live a long and healthy life."
"Okay."
"But… Fear you can't act on. Fear that… doesn't necessarily correspond to now. That's poison. And… Rose and I talk about it, okay. And I'm… trying. But it's not going to come fast or easy, and on top of it, I also just don't like the man. Fucker was born with everything and pissed it all away, and yeah, yeah, yeah, he'll tell you about extenuating circumstances and some shit like that, but…" Finn rolls his eyes. "But all the extenuating circumstances in the galaxy don't justify what he did."
Jacen's just looking at Finn, thinking about the words he's not saying, and finally decides to ask. "'Bought his life at too high a price?' You're thinking it loudly, but I don't know what you mean."
Finn sighs a little at that. "Sometimes, you've got do to shit to survive. I know about that. And I get that he got put in a bad situation. But there's a point where you roll over and let them kill you rather than keep saving your own life because too many people are dying because you keep saving yours. It's literal, you bought your life for too high a price. It wasn't worth the number of people who died to keep you going."
Jacen thinks about that. "If he'd done that, Snoke would still be in charge."
"Yeah, that's what I tell myself when I'm trying to be fair. But I'm not always fair, especially if you're pulling ideas right out of my head."
Jacen nods at that, too. "Okay. I'm not always fair in my head, too."
"Plus, it's not like he likes me. That man is not going out of his way to… anything, for me. Fucker cut me in half and hasn't even said sorry about, so…"
Jacen stands there for a moment, and then says, "For whatever it's worth. The way I am with thoughts. He is with feelings. So, part of why he's always so tense and pissed and on edge when you're near is he's feeling everything you are. And, it's not like me, where I'm aware of what's going on in an intellectual sort of way. He feels it. So, he gets near you. Your defenses spike. Even I caught that when you walked into Poe's ship and there he and Critt were. He absolutely catches the wave of fear, anger, and disgust. Which immediately puts him on defensive. I can't get what he's thinking when that happens, because he actually can shield his thoughts and feelings, but I know part of what you're seeing when he's near is a mirror of yourself, and part of it is defending himself against those feelings."
Finn rolls his eyes at that, and mutters something Jacen decides not to be aware of about Force users.
Jacen shrugs a bit at that. "Like I said, I don't need you to love him. I need you to understand why he's not the boogeyman in my closet, okay?"
Finn blinks.
Jacen realizes that kids raised by the First Order didn't have stories of monsters in the closet or under the bed. "It's a monster that—" Wrong direction, he doesn't want to spend hours going into how it's not really a thing, as opposed to some sort of wildlife native to where he grew up. "He's not my nightmare."
"Yeah, that's clear. He's really not carrying the lightsaber?"
"Not around the settlement. The last time I saw him armed, when we weren't training, was when Critt's parents left. He had his saber for that. But Poe had his blaster, and Chewie had his bowcaster and you… Where were you?"
"Here. In the gunner's tower. That ship wasn't getting Critt off planet unless he wanted to go."
"Oh."
"Unarmed?" Finn asks again.
"As much as a guy who can kill with his body and mind ever is unarmed."
Finn sighs. "That's the point now, isn't it? Assuming he's awake, he's always armed."
Jacen shrugs at that. "He's at least attempting to make an effort to be peaceful when he's home."
Finn looks thoughtful at that.
3/22/2
Sleeping isn't coming easy.
Jacen doesn't like it, but he's gotten used to the feel and sounds of Critt on the other side of the room. His current bunk is too narrow, too hard, and too… alone. He's almost in danger of seeing if one of the Porgs will come in and join him, just so he's got some company in here.
He gets up, pulls on a shirt, and heads into the main room. He can hear the faint murmur of Finn chatting with Rose over the holo in the cockpit as Chewie lounges back, smoking a cigarra, reading a newsie.
Can't sleep?
"Apparently." He eyes the gameboard, sees how to beat Chewie in three moves, and decides not to do it. He makes himself not focus on Finn and Rose talking. "You got a family?"
Once upon a time. Chewie shrugs a bit, smokes a bit. Found some new family. Lost them. Makin' do with another new one.
Jacen sniggers a bit at that. Then he thinks. "How old are you?"
248.
"We're like your pets, aren't we?"
Chewie laughs, long and loud and hard. After he gets his breath back, he says, I suppose so. Then he ruffles Jacen's hair affectionately.
Jacen rolls his eyes at that. But… well, he probably is a pet to someone with a four hundred year expected lifespan. "Is Kylo family?"
Chewie looks like he's going to try to answer that, and then doesn't, not with words. He just lets himself feel it.
Jacen knows what he's doing, but can't really get it. The shape, the idea of it, but not the details. And on this one, the details matter. "Wrong Maji. You need an empath for that. You need Kylo or Rey or Xanth, not me."
It's complicated.
"You know, I've met a lot of people, who when asked questions like that, say, 'It's complicated,' and mean, 'I don't want to talk about it,' but you, that's genuinely complicated."
Chewie sniggers at that, too. He puffs out a cloud of smoke. Is Kylo your family?
Jacen gestures for the cigarra, takes a puff, coughs horribly, feeling like his entire insides are on fire, and hands it back. His Granda had liked a good pipe in the evening, and this is not, on any level, that.
Chewie smirks at him sputtering away. Not quite the weeds most humans go for. This is a taste of home.
"Ah…" Jacen says with another cough. When he gets his breath back, Chewie's still watching him, waiting to see what he says. "Good question. I'm not used to having one, you know?"
Yes.
"And, besides Rey, he's not used to having one, too."
Chewie rolls his eyes. Ben had a family.
"Uh huh. Yeah. Ben… Tell me about that family back in Kashyyyk. The one you never quite fit in with and haven't visited in decades, as you go roaming around the galaxy with your human pets. It's not a family if you peel it off as soon as you can."
A long, thoughtful inhale followed by, Oddly certain for someone who isn't used to one.
"But I had one, once. My Granda. I remember what it was like. I'm out of practice, but I remember."
Well then…
"I don't know. I probably could wrap my head around having an older brother, or good friend, or whatever we'll end up being when the power differential minimizes."
You planning on being his equal one day?
Jacen's turn to smirk. "One day. And I know he's looking forward to that, too."
And what does he see you as?
"You could ask him that."
I'm asking you. You know, right?
Jacen shrugs a bit. "Yeah, I do. Nephew, younger brother… A kindred spirit, maybe. That's probably more Critt than me. He's trying to be a better mentor for me than Luke was for him."
Chewie thinks about that, too. That won't be hard.
Jacen's eyes just about fall out of his head as he senses what Chewie's thinking about.
Fuck. You didn't know that, did you?
"No. Like I said, Kylo and Rey can shield their thoughts. He's really bloody good at it when he wants to. He's shit at keeping them off his face, anyone looking at him will have a pretty good idea, but in his head he's fucking silent. I mean, when he's working at it, I can't read him at all. Luke really tried to kill him…"
"Wait… what?" Finn says, stepping out of the cockpit. Apparently, he finished his conversation at exactly the right, or wrong, time. "Luke tried to kill who? And are we talking about Luke Skywalker?"
Chewie looks annoyed. Yeah, we're talking about Luke Skywalker. Chewie gets up, he fetches a bottle, and three glasses, and pours each of them one. Okay, let's talk about complicated, and about families.
At the end of that story, Finn's just sitting there, blinking. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, ideas for things to say coming to the front of his head and then running away. He pours himself another drink and shoots it back.
Jacen's feeling pretty similar. The drink isn't making his head spin nearly as much as this revelation. Even in his neck of the galaxy, Luke Skywalker, the man who blew up the Death Star, killed the Emperor and restarted the Jedi, is a hero. More than a hero. He's… larger than life, the epitome of good… He's… flawless.
Chewie looks at both of them and nods.
Jacen finally gets his wits together enough to say, "You know what, with a track record like that, I'd probably stick with pets, too."
Chewie laughs, but it's kind of sad. Yeah. It'd be easier if you guys were my pets.
"We're your pets?" Finn says.
"What would you call a small companion you take care of that you're going to outlive by decades if not centuries?"
Finn's way more comfortable with that than anything he just learned about Luke and Kylo. "We're not fucking porgs!"
"Of course not, the porgs are livestock," Jacen shoots back. "You don't eat the eggs of pets."
Chewie's growl kills that conversation. I don't know if the rest of them were family, but I do know Han is. And it's not like the two of us making bad decisions was anything new or different. Oh look, Han and Chewie are making a bad decision, must be Thirday. But that's the one that hurt us the most.
"Shit," Finn says.
"Yeah." Jacen agrees.
It's late. Sleeping time. We're up and about tomorrow, so…
And when Chewie says go to bed his… family, pets, companions, whatever they are, go to bed.
But, just because they get told to go to bed, doesn't mean they fall asleep.
Right now, Jacen really wants to be home, in his bed, Critt on the other side of the room in the dark, telling him everythingabout today.
He's thinking about that as he notices something weird. Spine-tingly weird.
Jacen can feel Chewie talking, to Han, who… is supposed to be dead. He pushes his senses further, makes himself focus. Who is dead. That's absolutely not a living person. That's what ghosts feel like, and he finds it distinctively shivery and uncomfortable.
He pulls his senses back. If Chewie's having a heart to heart with his buddy, that's… nothing he needs to be snooping in. He wouldn't want anyone snooping into his conversations with Critt.
Plus, he is genuinely getting tired, and tomorrow starts soon.
Going to a tavern to sit around, drink, talk, get up to date on the local and not-so-local gossip, while reading up on everything and looking for a good route and better jobs is a hell of a lot less entertaining than Jacen had expected it to be.
Probably because he's not doing any of that. (Besides slowly nursing a drink. They're all doing that.)
No, Finn and Chewie are doing all of that. Though at this point it's mostly just reading. It's early enough there aren't a lot of other people in the tavern right now, so there's not a lot of conversation to be had, or listen to, in Jacen's case.
Jacen, on the other hand, is sitting with a datapad, stylus, and a navi chart. And an assignment from Chewie. Plot the orbit of Lirium and the course to get there. He wants to see the whole orbit mapped out before lunch, and the course by supper.
"Okay, I get it, the navigator might not always work, but, really… Do I have to do this?"
For a second Chewie's almost ready to say, "Nope," but then the blinks, glares and cuffs Jacen upside the back of the head.
"I wasn't doing it! I swear to the Force, being persuasive is a thing. If any other Maji were here, they could tell you, I'm not doing it."
He's never heard that particular curse word before, but he tucks it away for future use.
"I really wasn't. You just also know that this is a one in a million shot to be useful."
I also know that one in a million shots show up a hell of a lot more often than they should. Do the math.
Behind the pad that he's so dutifully reading, Finn's smirking. Jacen can feel math wasn't his favorite job, either.
Jacen rolls his eyes, turns on the pad and stylus, and goes to work. He's muttering about "We're going to be here all year," as he goes through it, because while he can do the calculations, he's not fast at them.
But, eventually, he's looking at them, and plotting the coordinates, and looking again, and glaring at the chart because that just can't be right…
"Chewie?"
Yeah.
"Check my math." He just hands over the calculations. He doesn't want the chart to influence anything.
Chewie's nodding along. Slow. Not perfect, but right enough.
"What's not perfect?"
You're a few hundred thousand klicks off. Not so much you'll miss the planet, but if you try to come out of hyperspace too close you're gonna be in for a bad surprise.
"Great. Here." He hands over the chart.
Chewie looks at it and growls.
That growl makes the hair on the back of Jacen's neck stand up, and Finn puts his pad down, fast. He looks at the chart, too. He and Chewie are both looking at a very long, narrow ellipse. "Is that… Lirium?"
"Yeah," Jacen says.
"Shit."
"Exactly."
"How did we not…" Finn's asking, staring at the chart.
I never checked. Had the navi do it, and it's not like it knows that an orbit is trouble for the people living on the planet.
"Fuck," Finn says. That sort of orbit is trouble.
Jacen's nodding. "So, spring's not coming anytime soon." As best he can guess, looking at that orbit, spring isn't coming this century.
Finn just stares at the orbit, which is not, in any way shape or form, a circle, and says, "Only in terms of geological time."
Chewie's already packing up their gear. We've got to get home, get a plan set. You get an orbit like this… Weather's shit now, but it's gonna get bad soon."
"What's bad?" Jacen asks, also gathering up his stuff. Finn's already at the bar, paying their tab.
Temperatures get so cold all the moisture in the air freezes. Then you get 500 kmh winds whipping the snow around. It'll go so fast it'll peel the paint off the walls, and then the walls off the studs.
"Shit. What's soon?" Jacen asks.
Not today, probably not tomorrow or next month, but next year? Year after?
"Exactly," Finn says. He pulls his credit stick out of the order pad on their table. "Okay, we're paid up. Let's get moving."
Notes:
So, I don't know if it's intentional or not, but Team Resistance tops out at 5'9" with both Finn and Poe. Maybe that makes Kylo look that much bigger. Maybe they just liked mid-sized actors. I don't know.
Jacen's canonically full grown at 6 feet tall. So, yeah, he's got a few inches on both Finn and Poe.