After breakfast Brook felt his bruised bones and abrasions very clearly.
Slowly, while he munched on the remainders of his breakfast, the clones filed out, either on by one or in small groups.
Brook kept his head down, preferred to listen instead of talking, feared that he would say something wrong. It didn't take long until he had finished his eggs and caf and had nothing to hide behind anymore.
He looked around, licking the remaining taste off of his lips. His head felt heavy and slowly bones really started to hurt really. He would prefer to lie down. Could he?
Some brother, Fi, Brook recalled, picked up on his discomfort and pointed at the counter.
"Put down your dishes there. We split up the chores, but we will get to that later. For now, follow me. You look like you could need some rest."
A few steps down the corridor was a wide room, complete with a crackling fire. Fi picked up on how Brook favored one leg. He took one elbow and steered Brook towards a low couch. His vod grimaced at the way the awkward movement pulled at his abrasions, but once Brook settled on the soft cushions a sigh escaped him.
Fi watched as Brook's head sank back against the backrest and smiled.
He remembered well how his recovery had gone and was still going. Although there was a huge difference in the injuries he was willing to be very patient with his younger brother.
At least he had found an amazing young woman during his struggles. Fi felt his face warm at the thought of Parja, no matter what he had gone through, he would do it all again if it meant to keep her.
Scorch sat down next to Brook, watched how Fi ran the scanner up and down Brook's limbs.
"Concussion is getting better, almost a miracle that he didn't break any bones during his trip down the river, but only fine cracks." The second medic listed half-loud.
He looked up, nodded at Scorch. "He is pretty knocked out, but a short nap should do the trick. Small steps."
Scorch huffed. "Medic here as well, don't have to spell it out like you have for your vat-brothers." He scoffed.
Fi rolled his eyes, only Brook shifting in his sleep kept him from sniping a comment back Scorch.
Instead he, very undignified, rolled his eyes at his brother. He flung the med-kit over to him and stood up.
He swayed a bit, spread out his arms to balance.
Scorch averted his eyes, instead of watching his fellow medic he went on rooting through the bag. Fi's injury was still a touchy subject for Scorch and most of the other clones, who simply could not imagine not being in their prime.
Fi caught his balance and marched out of the room, head held high.
Most of his brothers didn't know how to deal with him being less able then they were and although they tried their best being different still stung.
The kitchen was almost deserted, a state that was only achieved shortly after breakfast. The only person remaining was Kal, mug of Kaf between his hands, he leaned against the counter, staring out of the window into the clouds.
Fi stopped, still having a healthy amount of respect for the men. Kal waved him closer.
"Come son, sit down." He pointed at the seat to his right. "How is our addition doing?"
Fi settled in, poured himself a mug before answering.
"Pretty wiped out, but that was to be expected."
A tentative sip of the caf was followed by a short silence. Kal gave his son the moment he needed to collect his thoughts. Fi continued.
"He is different somehow. I can't put a finger on it, but it, it's weird."
The ex-commando shook his head, then looked to his left, trying to gauge if Kal understood him.
He did.
"Brook is a spaarti, of course he is different. Kid lacks years of training, has a lot to catch up to. Plus, his world has just been turned upside down."
Fi nodded, "heard the story, Mereel still got his bugs in the network. His sergeant is a true bastard, to do that to his men." He went still for a moment, stared into the murky darkness that was the industrial-strength caf.
Again Kal spoke up, seemingly knowing just what to say.
"He different and you don't like that."
Fi nodded mutely. "I don't like how the others treat me. They don't even mean it, but some gestures, now matter how small…" he trailed of, saw Kal nodding gravely next to him. His buir laid a soothing hand on his arm.
"Your brothers love you dearly."
"And I them."
"I know, and that is why you all try so hard and one day you will get it right. All of you, including Brook."
Fi swallowed hard, felt as if something heavy was stuck in his throat. Kal's way to just state, with the utmost conviction, that Fi and his brothers would do right sometime felt like a heavy weight on his shoulders.
In some ways it was worse than the high standards of Kamino, the demand of perfection, because Kal didn't demand it.
To fail would not be followed by punishment, but the knowledge that Fi had let Kal down and he feared that even more.
But instead of saying that he only nodded, mumbled something about helping Levet and made for the door.
Kal remained, slowly drinking his caf, wondering how he could help his sons along. He didn't know what was going through his sons' heads, but he had a feeling what it was.
"You could never do something wrong in my eyes ad'ika. Kuur, kuur."
Brook continued dozing for most if the morning. Scorch was soon joined by the reminder of his team.
Boss wiped the engine oil off of his hands while Fixer settled on the floor. Scorch's brother in the green armor spread out a vast array of cables and circuit boards.
Kal usually banned activities like this into the workshop, but when he looked into the living room this time he merely shook his head and mouthed "when he wakes up, you're out." And then, pulled back to confer with Ordo.
Later in the day Fixer shook Brook away and pointed him in the direction of the barn.
„You can use a card scraper." Levet pushed a rectangle of thin metal into Brook's hands.
"Work on that one over here." He lead Brook to a corner of the barn where a simple cut wooden table. It was big enough for five or six people, but simple cut, nothing fancy.
Levet held up a few things. "Ever done woodworking before?" He asked.
Brook shook his head, unconsciously standing at ease, arms behind his back, posture ramrod straight.
"Alright, now, take it both hands and move it over wood." Levet moved the scraper across the wood, angling so that Brook could see what he did.
"After you have finished, you can take some fine sandpaper and see if there are any parts you need to go over again." The older clone took a bit of paper, demonstrated how to move it across the table. "there see? Thhe surface is unever and the dust collects there."
Brook nodded, Levet had said he should do it and the movement looked pretty easy. So he reached out, picked up the scraper and moved it over the table.
Levet reached around Brook. Calloused hands laid on his, nudging Brook's fingers in a different position.
"Try to keep your thumbs behind the blade; you can control the strength better."
Taking a moment to watch Brook move, the spaarti's back crawled under the well-meant supervision.
Aparrently Brook was doing alright, because his brother nodded, then pointed at the other side of the barn.
"I will be busy helping the others with some chairs. You could try keeping your hands on the wood. It gives me more control over my movement."
With this friendly-worded advice Levet headed off, leaving Brook to his work.
After a few moments, Brook found himself leaning into the motion, relaxing under the repetitive movements.
He ran the metal over the wood, agaun and again. The talk of his brothers was a nice background noise.
He liked it, listened in while Levet and his squad talked bout bantha, milk, meat, cheese and farming.
The wood smoothed under the repetitive motions.
Brook moved around the table and than ran a raceful hand over the surcafe.
He rubbed his fingers against each other, they felt dry. He pulled a face, wiped them clean on his trousers. It felt weird, but at the same time, Brook sniffed his fingers.
"Something the matter?" Levet asked.
"It smeels good." Brook answered. He turned around, letting his fingers run over the wood.
"I think I am done. Is there something else?"
Levet nodded. "Yeah. If you want to give this the last finish before oiling it, you take this sandpaper ."
The older clone took the tool, moved it across the table in circles. Brook stepped closer, peering over Levet's shoulder.
"The dust gathers in some places." Are those the ones I should sand again?"
Levet looked up, almost starteled at Brook's initiative.
"Yes. Here." He handed Brook the sandpaper. "Go ahead. When you are done I can give you the oil. We want the table as natural as possible."
Brook accepted the tool with a smile and bend over the wood again.
It was good to built something.
A.N.:
A huge shout out to all of you who are reading this.
I absolutely love to hear your opinions. (College is driving me crazy right now and your comments get me writing in all the hectic.)
This this the second last chapter of this arc, next one might be a while as exams are looming.
Greetings WindPheonix