Parental Duties By Rey
Chapter summary: Déjà vu is horrible when it's a euphemism for PTSD.
Chapter notes: Caleb firstly appeared on Chapter 6. And, for this chapter, I would like to emphasise that third-person limited POV means that we get to see things only from one side and heavily biased towards the POV character, folks. Also, nobody is a saint and everyone makes mistakes. Also, apparently an overwhelmed-but-not-by-the-Force Caleb has few fullstops in his inner dialogue, and I didn't manage to ameliorate it, so please beware of long-winded, scattered sentences.
Chapter warnings: There is an instance of post-traumatic stress disorder towards the end of this chapter, after the paragraph that begins with "He still remembers the creche," and ends with "Caleb blinks." The same part also deals more heavily with the past genocide of the Jedi Order, while it's a background in the rest of the chapter.
Nicknames used: Obi: Obi-Wan Kenobi Ré: (Tre)-Fay (Vizsla) Té: Tarre Vizsla
26. Caleb: The Similarities
The Republic was gone – Master Depa was gone – and "the Empire" replaced it, and now it's gone, too, replaced by a new republic, which is even named New Republic.
Mister Din and Mister Boba and Miss Fennec'd said so, at least, back on that planet in Deep Core while all of them'd killed time waiting for the storms to end. But now they said there's an Imperial cruiser locking on their location, then everyone but the grown-ups and Té and Ré got evacuated to the other side of the miserably hot, miserably stinky fireball that's Nevarro, and just now Mister Boba said the cruiser's clean, though it was actively manned by Imperial troops quite recently.
Worse, the hallways that Caleb is traversing at present with the others look so much like those in a venator – a Republic ship, who used to carry clones – those that Caleb and so many others considered friends, even brothers.
And, even worse, the grown-ups have decided to take this ship for themselves, and assume that Caleb and the others will go with them, because "the kids" still have nowhere else to go yet. Away from here, too, unlike Mister Din's original plan, because it turned out that the homing beacon Cal found on Razor Crest had come from one of the dock workers here.
It doesn't help that the ones uneasy about this ship aside from Caleb himself are only Cal, Merrin and Asajj, and it's only Cal that really understands.
It also doesn't help that, upon setting foot in the hangar bay, FN-2187 and CT-100-4141 – who still don't have names, though folks usually just call the former Effen or Finn and the latter Ceti or Cee just to make the designation shorter – have snapped back into the attitude of "proper" soldiers and are yet to relax.
Well, Caleb did hope everyone wouldn't be separated in five different ships, though they're all already interlinked via comms and the Force as much and as long as possible, but he didn't mean this! Not so soon after what Grey did to Master Depa, at that! Caleb is lucky that he's yet to see anybody wearing trooper armour along the way from the hangar bay.
Mister Din lets Caleb – Cal, too – practically step on his heels, even hook fingers into his belt for physical grounding, but it's just temporary. Just while they're walking along this maze of endless corridors that's so cold and monochrome and bare and too silent, too empty, too saturated with something that feels like a sharp, serrated knife and burning acid and oil-spill in the Force, but at the same time reminding him of variations of the same voice and lost camaraderie and They hunt us, they kills us, what did we do wrong?
And there's no plan yet for after.
All that the grown-ups are concerned about is where to go from here, because they talked about it among themselves sometimes, especially on that planet in Deep Core, but it was just a talk until now. Mister Boba wants to find cure for the CT cadet's accelerated aging – and Caleb didn't know about this before! – as soon as possible, and he wants to track down people he calls "the Nulls" – with many grumbled, seething curses – for it. Miss Fennec wants to go to Tatooine, to wrest control from Jabba's majordomo – because Jabba is apparently dead, while Caleb heard that he threw a fit just a year ago and was still going strong – and establish a "lucrative business" there, like she and Mister Boba had apparently originally intended to do before what happened on Tython, and hopes everyone will go with her for "added firepower." Mister Din no longer wants to give Grogu to the Jedi, because Jon and the triad – there is a Force-triad! Caleb never knew that – already offered to help Grogu deal with and use his connection with the Force, and they helped the baby communicate with Mister Din about his wish not to be separated, too, but that means Mister Din has no specific plan now. Miss Cara, meanwhile, comes along with them in this trip because she is really curious about Kamino and wants to persuade the other grown-ups to go there, after Mister Greef talked about it shortly after they had arrived on Nevarro, though they obviously no longer need a cruiser to carry all five ships now.
And then there's also Mister Luke, who's a Skywalker like the Hero with No Fear though no one knows if they're related or not, who's a Jedi according to Obi – this Obi, not Master Kenobi the Negotiator and High Council member – because Miss Fennec apparently shot him with a stunbolt when he was chatting to Té and now brings him along because no one would "babysit" him.
Given such disaster, how would they even think to think about the kids? How would they even suspect that this ship is not good for Caleb and Cal and probably also Finn and Cee?
More colour? Grogu offers just as it's getting too much and Caleb is ready to run back to the hangar they came in from and flee in whatever way.
What do you mean? Caleb seizes the distraction with both figurative hands the best he can.
A faded, grief-and-fear-layered snippet of memory of glittering splotches of red and white and blue and yellow adorning a patch of wall answers him, and he can't help but smile.
The creche.
He still remembers the creche, left it less than a decade ago, came back sometimes to help wrangle the youngest members of the Order.
But the Order is no more, and the creche was ransacked as much as the other parts of the temple.
By clones.
Who lived in ships like this.
Who killed Jedi in ships like this, most likely.
No, Caleb just can't.
He lets go of Mister Din's belt, turns round and runs.
Bootsteps run behind him – the clones – he can't let them come near – Hiding place. I need a hiding place.
The bootsteps stop, but he continues to run. He shan't fall into the trap. Master depa died so he can live, so he shall live.
A wave of calm-safe-peaceful drenches him, holds him – he stumbles, but continues to run.
He hits something soft that… staggers back?… then turns to the side to continue running. But the soft something holds him, stops him – not restraining, strangely, but something far warmer – but he struggles, anyway. This could quite possibly be a trap!
But – I would like to think that I am not a trap. – Té is somehow here, retorts grumpily to a statement that's not spoken aloud, anchors him, holds him, and… it's not just in the Force?
Caleb is… confused.
Reach out. Are you in danger right now? Té grumps again, like Master Mace when in the middle of a shatterpoint migraine. And Caleb obeys, like he does – did? – Master Mace.
The attempt to recall the passing thought jars him, threatens to draw his attention elsewhere. But Té yanks him none-too-gently back on course, then guides him gentler along the currents of the Force, prompts him to touch the nearby lights.
Lights that are full of concern instead of the sharpness of a hunt. Lights that are alive, not empty, not cold, not less than droids.
Lights that are nearby, but far enough.
Caleb blinks. His breath hitches. And, for the first time, he is aware that his face is wet.
And then he registers his holder – how soft his holder is, which should not be possible because robe-padded armour is still hard, but he knows it's Té, and Té always wears their armour and robes.
He stares.
A pair of huge blue eyes stare back.
Huge blue eyes that are not framed by green-painted beskar helmet.
"Té," he breathes – shocked, awed, wondering, concerned. "Aren't you supposed to be covered up?"
Rueful agreement and determination are his only answer, at first, then the other's Force-presence softens just as their eyes do, and they shyly murmur, "You needed it. something that is not armoured, that is. And, we are traataliit, aren't we?"
Oh, Force.
Caleb hugs them back with all his might. He is clammy and shaking, now he realises. But, well, if Té is de-shelled here and declares him as as-good-as-family….