Brook thought he did better on their way back, but in the end he was so tired he couldn't really tell. So he just followed the others, pulled of his boots and staggered inside the home.
It was warm, smelled like wood, fire, food and people.
Some people may have found it oppressive, but Brook took a moment. He stood still in the hallway, closed his eyes and breathed in deeply.
His legs trembled; he was beyond exhausted, and felt something he had never felt before.
As a hand gripped him at the elbow and Fi led him towards a bunkroom Brook searched for the word.
"Here, it has two beds, but it's your own for now."
Fi gestured across the room. It was small, sparsely furnished with wooden beds and dressers, but for Brook it was more space to himself than he had ever dreamed about.
The spaarti sat down on the bed across the door, the one under the window, gingerly. He found smiling. "Thank you Fi. Something I should do?"
The question came without him thinking about it, just the wish to give something back for the things he was receiving.
His brother waved him off as he closed the door.
"You can let me check you injuries and then you can sleep until dinner. Vod, you must be exhausted."
Indeed, Brook was tired. As he stretched out on the mattress his eyes were already drooping and when Fi had pushed a few pills at him "against the pains" Brook was drifting away.
It was just not possible for him to tell how long he had been asleep, at some point Brook had woken up to find a bowl of warm gruel at his bedside.
Clone-stomachs being eternally empty he had devoured it with gusto. Someone had sprinkled a bit sweet syrup over it. Brook licked his lips, scraped over the bottom of the bowl, trying to get every last taste of it.
Stomach comfortably full he sank back down onto the soft mattress and pulled the warm blanket back over aching limbs. Brook closed his hand over the edge and sighed. It was thick, but soft and as he curled up beneath it he was finally able to put a meaning to the feeling that had been fluttering around in his head.
He was content, even happy, to be where he was.
The afternoon with his brothers had been good, showed him there was a place for him.
As Brook slowly drifted off, trying to savor each moment, he promised himself to try everything he could find. He wanted to carve his place here, even if he didn't know how to.
The next morning it was the sun that woke Brook.
He blinked, pulled a face at the taste in his mouth. He needed something to drink.
Brook pushed himself up, groaned as stiffened muscles protested against the abuse. The night of rest had been good for his head, but his body needed a bit of careful movement before all muscles worked again.
Working a hand through his hair Brook decided to take stint in the fresher. It was cool in the rooms.
He picked at a bacta-soaked bandage, shivering as he waited for the water to warm up, testing it occasionally with his hand.
The wash was short, Brook felt a bit crowded in the small fresher. The water was nice and hot, the pressure just right, but something unnerved him.
Struggling to get into the shirt and pants provided Brook just assuming they were meant for him.
His right leg send flared bright with pain for a moment. Brook wobbled, reached out for the other bed. It had not been slept in.
Breathing through nose and mouth, just like Fixer had taught him yesterday, Brook listened.
'What is wrong?' He thought, trying to shake the feeling that something was fundamentally wrong with the galaxy.
But he found nothing… nothing was there.
Disappointed, still unnerved the young clone made his way to the kitchen, feet barely making a sound on the wooden floor.
There were sounds, smell of food wafting through the hall.
Instantly Brook felt the tense feeling in his chest recede.
He entered the kitchen, slipped into the free space next to Fi, just like the day before.
Mereel just gave a grunt, busy nearly inhaling his caf, Brook felt his fingers tingling just watching the older clone go through the steaming hot drink.
Scorch held his plate out, pointed wordlessly at the fried eggs and Brook heaped on. The exchange was wordless, but as Scorch took the plate he raised his mug of caf in reply.
He felt comfort at the beginning of a routine as he took his share of food.
Only as Fi spoke up Brook stumbled.
"So," his brother said. "What you doing today?"
Brook licked his lips, still tasting the nerf stripes. He quickly looked over to Scorch, but no help was coming from over there.
The spartii grappled, searched for something in his experienced, his flash training, but came up empty.
Fi poked his shoulder, leaned into Brook's space lightly. "Little hint from brother to brother, alright?"
Brook nodded mutely, realizing that this brother was trying to help.
"When you don't know what to say try for something you like to be told. Generally stay nice."
Fi pulled back, speared a piece of meat on his fork; gave Brook a conspiring nod. "So, try again."
"What… is there something that needs to be done?"
Scorch nodded.
"Not bad. So, why that answer?" He said between two gulps of caf. He didn't quiet have Mereel's speed, but was close.
Brook furrowed his brow, trying to puzzle out the situation. His fork clanged against the plate, hands shivering, so he put it down. 'Is this some kind of test?' His stomach clenched, Brook felt his shoulders tensing.
Test never ended well.
"Not a wrong answer. Just, if you wanna get around here, you need to realize how actions get reactions and we need to know how you tick."
Mereel spoke up, made eye contact; took care to ground his younger brother in reality.
Brook, once again, breathed easier.
"Well, I don't know the way of operations." He started, noticed his brothers exchanging looks, but no one interrupted, so he continued, speaking slowly; choosing his words with care.
"Yesterday we did something for the meal. I was also told something about chores, soI take it we participate in keeping the base running."
Kal closed his eyes shortly, flexed his fingers, nearly reaching for Brook before gripping his mug.
"It is your home Brook and if you want to help it is appreciated. If you want to do something else it is also all right." He spoke quietly, but his voice was audible throughout the whole room.
Brook nodded, noticed the difference between the voice of this mandalorian and his sergeant at the other base. He took another bite of breakfast, perhaps if his sergeant had been more like him things would have gone better.
A sharp pain made him wince, Brook's abused tongue protested.
He felt okay here, good even, but what had happened.
'Feels like I shouldn't be here.' Brook buried the thought, not liking it, craving his brothers and knew that the ones he grew up with were scattered all across the galaxy.
His thoughts reeled, Brook gripped the edge of the table, trying to anchor himself with something.
Conversation started up again and a rope was thrown his way by the other clones in the room.
"So brother, how was the night? Room alright?" Fi spoke up, seemingly trying to engage Brook, who took a long moment to consider his answer. He was very glad for something, anything to pull him a away from his thoughts.
"I slept well, thank you, especially for dinner."
"But?" As jovial and welcoming Scorch was, he was also perceptive.
"I felt a bit, weird waking up, but it's better now." Brook added the last part quickly, instinctively needing to prove that he was good now.
Fixer leaned to Scorch, mouthed something about "tech"" and "not always needing to be on top of game."
Brook didn't catch everything as another clone spoke up. "If you have time Brook, you can join my brothers and me in the barn this afternoon. We are building some more furniture and could need another pair of hands. By the way, I am Levet."
Fi nodded, "that's good, gives Brook sometime to stretch out his legs. He shouldn't overdo it yet."
Brook nodded, trying to take up the information. His head was spinning a bit at the quick change in conversation.
Training, flash training especially always droned on for hours about the same topic. Jumps in conversation like this were still unknown.
But no verbal answer seemed to be needed, as the brother turned to a clone on his right, soon deep in a conversation about Bantha and genetics that left Brook astonishingly uninterested.
So he turned to the slowly cooling remains of breakfast, pretty happy to follow the conversations passively and learning what he could from that.
Kal, took a moment to watch him.
Brook's brief struggle with his emotions ad not gone unnoticed, neither by him nor by Ordo; who was as always sitting at his Father's right hand.
His son leaned over to him.
"He's going to sort it out Buir."
The mandalorian gave his son a long look. "Of course he is ad'ika, but what makes you so sure of it?"
His son gave him one of his very rare smiles, honest and warm it reached all the way to his brown eyes.
It was a look of love and dedication usually reserved for Besany.
"Because I thought about your words buir. We have you, a future, the fight for the life-span we deserve and finally the same chances as all other being in this galaxy. Who could walk away from that?"
The null continued, almost silent, turned his head so Brook couldn't lip-read. He doubted the spaarti could and at the same time made a mental note to approach Brook in the future and teach him.
It was a useful tool to have.
"Besides, Jaing and I made sure he can't reach outside if we don't want him to."
A.N.:
Hello everybody!
*waves*
So, I have a feeling that there is not all that much going on in this part of the story (hope it doesn't bore you).
The next one should have a bit more action.
Talking about action...I have been a bit unsure about how I should portray Delta squad.
I kind of tend to mesh the game with the delta squad in the RepCom books as I (personally) find the characters from the game more approachable and considerably less hurt that the characters in the books.
I like the Boss, Fixer and Scorch I have on the pages, but would like to hear what you think.
Should they be a bit more gruff? Is it okay? (horrible?)