Coruscant
Baylan headed straight for the Council, after landing with the details of what they had done.
Word came back that Maul had escaped yet again and now there was another one — a brother, even worse.
They should have stayed but they were simply following orders, but it still felt wrong.
Mayday walked with Veetch to the Barracks.
"You going to Hela's?"
"Yes."
"The lads wondered if you wanted to come to 79's with us first, unwind a bit?"
The ask was tentative.
"Of Course! Why wouldn't I."
Mayday turned to him, wondering when their brotherly dynamics had changed, that he had to ask.
"Since you got serious with Hela." Veetch replied staring ahead, avoiding eye contact, "It is serious isn't it?"
Mayday dropped a hand on his brother's shoulder and stopped walking, he turned to face him.
"Yes it is." The feeling had crept up on him, when they were on Naboo, if not before. Plug knew how he felt, they had talked about it because he felt the same about Cara. Mayday had thought he wanted to say more to him but then they were interrupted.
"Good!"
They started walking again.
"We all like her and she makes us feel welcome but it's changed us, as a squad. We've all changed."
"We have. It's this war that's changed us and the Jedi. We're not the idealistic shinies that jumped off the gunship onto that red geonosian hell hole. Well, I'm not."
Veetch hummed in agreement, "What are you going to do when the war finishes?" He asked, out of the blue.
"War never finishes. There's always a war somewhere in the galaxy. It will depend on where the Republic sends us." Mayday replied
"So you intend to stay on, still be a soldier?" Veetch continued.
"What else would I do?"
"What else would any of us do?" Veetch pondered.
"Have you been talking to the General?" asked Mayday.
"He's got some different ideas."
"He has. The Jedi will find a way. They and some senators are pushing for us clones to have rights."
"And still the question, what do we do after the war?" Continued Veetch coming back to it.
"We find another one."
Veetch laughed.
"So are you coming tonight?"
"Of course, just for a few."
Veetch slung his arm around his shoulders.
Mayday shrugged it off good naturedly, "You know you ought to try it sometime. Find a good woman—"
"There's lots of good women at 79's." He grinned, "I can find as many as I like there."
"I mean for more than one night. It's different, you know."
"Nah Boss! Not gonna let anyone catch me. I've not changed that much."
"I'll see you there. I've got to report in."
He walked through the base heading for Cody's office, noting the large number of younger, shinier clones that were walking around, some almost had their mouths open in astonishment at the size of the base.
He wondered how the powers that be knew they would need such a large facility. It must have been repurposed. But what was here before? He often found himself thinking about those things when he was here.
Too many questions and not enough answers.
"Gods! When did I start feeling this old?" he muttered to himself, automatically returning a salute from one of the shinies. He stopped and turned.
"Trooper!"
"Yes sir!" He came to attention and saluted sharply.
"You're shiny aren't you?"
He watched the young trooper bristle at the perceived insult; he looked as if he hadn't bulked up the muscle mass yet, looking to be only just past the gangly stage.
"CT11032, sir."
"Do you have a name? Cee-Tee-one-one-zero-three-two, is a mouthful on the Battlefield."
"Stix, sir. With an Ex."
"So Stix, how old are you?"
"Nine, sir."
Mayday thought he looked younger than that.
"Did you manage to complete all your training before they deployed you?"
He looked like he wanted to shuffle his feet and avoid the question but he didn't.
"Not quite all of it sir. We were told we would get some training here."
"Of course you will. You just follow orders and the more experienced troopers and you'll learn a lot. Dismiss."
He returned the salute before detouring to his quarters; if it was still there he had time before seeing Cody.
Mayday walked into the small room and looked around; he should feel something about being here but he didn't.
Dropping into the bunk, he tapped Hela's number in and smiled as her face rose from the Holoemitter.
"Hi!"
.
79's
The bar was as boisterous, bright and filled to overflowing with brothers as he always remembered it. It had been a while since he was here. He recognised a few brothers from the 212th, only a few. Boil sat in the corner looking morose.
He headed towards him but was distracted by the Captain striding towards him.
"Wilco, you old reprobate." He greeted him, grabbing his forearm, "How ya' doin?"
"Good Good. I'm still here aren't I? And you?" They had to shout above the noise.
"Not too bad. Come. I'm with my squad if I can find them."
He searched the bar and then found them squashed in a booth on the first floor balcony. Decs waving wildly at him and swaying.
"One of yours, I assume." Said Wilco smiling.
"Yup! Let's go see what they're up to."
"No good, by the looks of it." Commented Wilco, as he followed him up the stairs two at a time.
"Veetch! Tank! Look who I found?" He shouted above the noise, which felt even worse up here.
He watched Splicer tap something on his datapad then nudge Decs and point to the screen.
Mayday shook his head. He recognised the hologram playing out on the big screen; it was from Tooka the Musical, one of Hela's numbers, not that you could hear her sing. It looked to be a bad pirate copy too, very fuzzy.
"You could have at least tidied it up." He said, leaning over to Splicer.
He shrugged his shoulders.
Wilco raised his eyebrows in a question.
"A lots happened." Mayday said.
"Why don't you fill me in."
"There's this woman…" Splicer butted in.
Mayday swatted him around the head.
Wilco picked up on it immediately and looked at the holovid, which had moved onto one of the Ord Mantell concerts. Splicer had done a playlist.
Mayday glared at him.
"Punching above your weight there, ner vod." commented Wilco.
Mayday smiled.
Wilco punched him on the shoulder.
"Sly dog."
.
Mayday told her it had been a bad mission.
She pressed him but he didn't want to talk, didn't want to tell her that Maul was alive, the Sith who killed Qui Gon Jinn, who Ben killed, who hurt them both. He hadn't wanted to tell her but she pressed him.
It hit her hard.
It was all linked.
Then he said he needed to be with his brothers.
Except Plug, who went to see Cara.
She agreed, he needed time with them and she practised her latest song but she was distracted and waited up.
Hela waited, he said he wasn't going to be long but that was hours ago, and she didn't want to tie him down, restrict what he wanted to do. He had to have choices.
The Sith was back.
This war was all linked.
So she waited.
It was hours ago and it was only a couple of drinks.
And he had been different when he spoke.
She looked at the food she made him as a surprise; he always seemed hungry but it had sat on the table for much longer than she anticipated. She put it in the conservator. Zur could have it tomorrow.
The outer door opened.
"Hey babe. I'm back."
Hela closed the door of the conservator slowly.
"Honey, where are you?"
She stalked out of the kitchen and looked at him.
"Here! But I am neither a child nor a sweet substance to spread on toasted mealbread."
Mayday grinned at her and swayed to the side, slightly, "I know."
If she didn't know him better, she would have said he was leering at her, "You're drunk." Hela folded her arms across her chest and watched him, never having seen him like this before.
The anger was simmering inside her, taking her by surprise.
Maul was still alive.
"No! Not drunk but I'll admit I've had one tiny one," he indicated with his thumb and forefinger, "too many but I can hold my drink."
He grinned inanely at her.
"Well you can go and hold it somewhere else."
The anger boiled over.
"Aww! I thought you might– I've been looking forward to this all day."
"Not enough it would seem." she snapped.
He stepped closer and the scent of a perfume, not hers wafted over to her; she looked closer at his neck. There was a red mark on it. She reached out and touched it. Lipstick. Not her colour—too orange for her. She wore more plum coloured ones. She rubbed it off her fingers.
"I can smell and see her on you!"
"Who?"
"Whoever you've been with."
The anger was uncoiled now.
"I haven't been with anyone." Mayday looked affronted at the accusation.
"Don't lie to me."
"I'm not."
"Pah!" Hela turned, furious and stomped away, ending up in the refresher, she kicked the door shut behind her. He followed just in time to hear the door lock click just before he pushed it.
.
Mayday leaned on the wall next to the closed door, arms crossed on his chest. Hela said he did that a lot but he didn't care. He could not understand where this sudden loss of temper came from, although he had seen flashes of it before.
She agreed he could go to 79's with the boys, even agreeing it was a good idea. Enjoy yourself, she said, I've got to practise, learn a new song for the new Opera.
He had.
You need it, she said, to be with your brothers.
He did.
Then when he came back —boom.
He stood like this for ten minutes and was no longer swaying; his metabolism had already burnt the alcohol away and he was sobering up, realising it was an accumulation of things, the last being the lipstick.
"Are you still angry? " he asked, finally.
The crash and shattering of glass against the door answered him.
"You're so hot when you're angry."
There was another crash and shattering of glass.
"You'll run out of glasses soon." He waited for another crash —nothing.
"So—we won't be fucking tonight?" He asked.
He waited again, there was silence before the door lock clicked and it opened. He moved away from the wall as a small blond haired fireball leapt at him, arms grabbing hold of his neck and legs wrapping around his waist.
He took a step back before he steadied himself, "Haar'chak. Din'ila!"
Sometimes he forgot himself and reverted to Mandoa in front of her.
"Let's not be hasty." Hela purred into his ear.
Mayday grinned at her yelp, as he hefted her over his shoulder and carried her wriggling into the bedroom.
"Dar'din'ila?"
"What's that mean?" She asked, as she grabbed his backside with both hands, both to stop the feeling of falling over, that and the fact she liked the feel of him under her hands. She gave him a squeeze, to remind him where she was.
"Not crazy."
She laughed.
"Only you can tell me that."
She yelped again at his hard slap on her backside as he walked over to the bed and dropped her down.
She bounced several times and looked up at him, her hand reaching up to him; he caught it, kissing her wrist, inhaling the remaining aroma of her perfume.
"I swear, Cyar'ika, I have not been with anyone else. I'll explain."
"I believe you. It's just sometimes…."
"Sometimes what?"
"After the Nautolan—the thought of you with someone else drives me mad."
"There won't ever be anyone else."
"You don't know that."
"I do!"
His forehead touched hers, holding it for several seconds before rolling them both over, so she was on top .
"Now, where were we?" He asked grinning, as his hands slipped under her top to brush the underside of her breast, underneath her bra.
Hela moved upright and pulled her top off.
"It's a start." Muttered Mayday as his hands reached behind her, unhooking her bra. It dropped and he went to her breasts kneading both hard; her arousal was increasing despite herself and her previous anger. She could feel him stiffen underneath her, as she leaned back, bracing herself with one hand on his thighs and tracing a route down his chest, along his abdominals to the top of his trousers with her other.
"Your turn!"
She moved off him, still on her knees, as he manoeuvred his trousers off; he was so quick she didn't know what happened next, other than she was underneath him and her arms were now pinned above her head, at the wrist with one hand.
"This okay?" He asked, as his hand skimmed down her torso, barely touching her breasts, or stomach even, as she eagerly arched up to him.
His fingers hooked over her pants and dragged them down, shuffling ungracefully, she wriggled out of then he flung them away before his hand reached between her legs and she spread them slightly as he pressed two fingers in slowly, moving them slowly, until she was squirming beneath him. She leaned forward to kiss him.
He moved away and lifted one leg over his shoulder, lined himself up and thrust hard. Hela gasped, even though he slid in easily and he bent down to kiss her; her erect nipples pushing hard into his chest.
He was being truthful when he said he had been looking forward to this all day; she opened further for him, allowing him to thrust deeper. It was the culmination of all his thoughts.
He found a sure, steady rhythm, too fast and he wouldn't last and he always wanted to show her exactly how good he could make her feel. They were well matched as she kept up with him until she stiffened, arched, pushing her head back into the mattress. He slowed, changing his pace, as she came back down from her high but that change in pace had proved too much as his rhythm faltered and he came with several grunts, before lowering himself gently onto her.
.
Her feet rubbed against his ankles; he relished every feeling, from her damp sweat soaked skin pressed against him, to her mouth doing whatever it did to him.
He still could not believe his luck, especially after what Wilco had said.
"So, you weren't actually with her?" She asked, again.
Mayday smirked, "You're not going to let this go, are you?"
"No!"
"No. I wasn't with her. It was for Tank."
"And you really thought it would work?"
"It was Hexx and Tank's idea. She had brushed everyone else off."
"Including Tank?"
"Including Tank."
Mayday moved his hand to her breast, and rolled the nipple between his finger and thumb.
Hela's breathed in deeply.
"She may have genuinely not been interested in him. She does have a choice you know." She eventually spoke, after swatting his hand away.
"She was eyeing up every trooper in the room and her eyes lingered on him, several times."
"Eyeing up?" Hela snorted.
"Yes."
"Tank is pretty hard to miss, especially with the moustache."
"He is. He's very proud of it. Better than Boil's now." His hand trailed up and down her stomach.
Hela sniffed long and deep at his neck again, "Who is she? That's a very expensive perfume— Coruscant Nights, if I remember correctly."
"They give perfume names?" Mayday asked, confused, still learning about some natborn customs.
"Yes."
He sniffed her neck; she always smelled the same, spicy with warm amber undertones, sometimes it had a floral hint. He didn't know exactly what they were called but he always associated it with her.
"What's yours called?"
"Mine?"
"Yes, you always have this particular smell, no there's two." He corrected himself.
"Hela No. 3 and 4."
"What happened to 1 and 2?"
"Not quite right."
"Who came first?"
"Me of course. The Perfumer makes them especially for me, no others like it; a secret formula and no one else gets to buy them."
Mayday blew out a breath, "Who would have thought." he didn't understand some civilians, including Hela at times.
He lay there and had to ask, "Why were you so angry?"
"Because I love you and don't want to lose you."
He was surprised by the straightforward way she announced it. He knew, no thought that he meant a lot to her but she had never said it out right before.
"It's okay, if you don't feel that way. You don't have to say it." She added quickly, "That's just how I feel, you may not feel the same. That's fine."
She pulled herself closer to him, pressing herself to him and looked at his eyes, there was something different about him.
"I'd walk in front of a volley of blaster fire for you." He declared, kissing her wrist.
"I wouldn't want you to but I'd do the same for you." Replied Hela, grasping his hand, feeling the familiar callouses from years of holding and firing his blaster.
"I wouldn't want you to either." Mayday wrapped his arms around her.
Hela blinked back the tears, hoping he wouldn't see.
She tucked her face into his neck, feeling his hand stroking through her hair.
.
It was late but they both lay back, the sweat from their love making cooling and their legs still entangled.
"You rarely tell me what happens in the war. I know you said you wanted to keep me separate from it but– it can't be. It's been going on so long."
"I don't talk about it, because this war is now…" he paused, what he was going to say felt like treason, "now— it's about surviving it."
She didn't say anything and he didn't elaborate but she already knew what it was. He and his squad had been lucky. He had a list of brothers, ones he knew who hadn't made it this far.
She had heard his nightmares, talking about them. Waxer was one.
They lay silent for a while.
"I have seen the results of war but I didn't fight. My sister did. Nola did. My parents and sister died in it. If you ever want to talk. I'm here to listen."
"I know you've said this before but I want you to be apart from it. I want to be with you and know I can try and forget it for a short time."
"I'm here, always here."
He liked this being together just as much as the sex. He could relax here, sleep without fear of interruption, eat real food instead of some of the processed stuff they continually fed him and his troopers. For a while it got better but now — How long the war would last was anyone's guess but he would accept this for now.
It didn't seem anywhere near enough to Hela, "If that's what you want."
She let him pull her closer, together in their own little world.
Tomorrow he could be gone again.
She kept the tears for then.
.