#ligara

Crow was the first one to notice it.

The Erithuda house had a spectacular roof for being lookout, a high spire with a flat top that looked out over the Lothian landscape for miles. So when the a shadow descended through the mint-green clouds, he was the first to see it, and hear the rumble of a ship coming through the atmosphere.

He watched the shadow warily for a minute, wondering why, exactly, it should make him afraid to think it might be the Republic. Shouldn’t he want to go back?

He huffed and shook his head, his hair falling in his eyes. He pushed it back impatiently. Whoever the hell was in that ship, he should probably tell someone before they landed.

He swung down off the roof, running over shingles and dropping from railings until he hit the ground right in front of Dreu’s garage.

She and Ligara were talking, and the twi’lek pilot looked just about as delighted as Crow had ever seen her - home, working on her ship with a wrench in hand and talking to her girlfriend.

She looked significantly less delighted when Crow walked into the garage, stopping just short of snarling at him.

“Is there something you want?”

Crow was the best out of his squad at hiding his emotions and keeping his face neutral. He crossed his arms and blinked at her, looking unimpressed.

“There’s a ship coming,” he said lazily, as if it was of no concern to him. “Thought you might like to know. Since this is your house and everything.”

She narrowed her eyes at him and stomped outside to look at the green sky, then groaned and swore. “Great. It’s the Asha’ra’m.”

Crow followed her, arms still crossed over his chest. “Is that dangerous, or….?”

“No,” she snapped. “Just annoying and very, very rude.”

“You must get along great,” he muttered slyly.

“What was that?”

“I said that’s great.”

He watched as the ship descended and landed right in front of the ship, and two people stepped out first: a chiss woman with a drink in one hand (tiny pink umbrella and all) and her other arm around the waist of a pretty pink twi’lek girl, who was whispering in her ear and giggling.

“Dreu!” The chiss laughed, descending the ramp. “Babe! Hi. We were in the system and needed some repairs. Also fuel. You mind taking a look, sweetie?”

Dreu threw down her wrench and crossed her arms. “Can you maybe fuck off with the cute nicknames, Aurren? You can’t call me babe anymore.” She looked at the woman beside her and smiled warmly. “Hey, Alyea. You wanna go warn my dad and sister that the horde’s descending?”

She giggled and kissed Aurren’s cheek before heading inside.

“My sister is here too,” she said to Dreu on her way past, with a thick Ryloth accent.

Crow wasn’t paying attention to Dreu and the chiss anymore - clearly they had history, but he wanted to know what the twi’lek meant by “hordes descending.” Because these people looked a hell of a lot like pirates.

First a zabrak - Dathomirian by his tattoos, Crow though. He looked scary, but he had a medkit at his belt, so he probably wasn’t that dangerous.

A weequayan came next - guy with one eye, who looked a bit familiar. He was pretty sure he’d seen him - wait.

Oh, hell. That guy was Doriana’s ex.

The next guy off the ship was a blind Mirialan with long hair, who was laughing over his shoulder to the last person on the ship -

Crow wasn’t really sure why, but he felt something….warp through the world when she stepped out. She was probably the sister Alyea had mentioned - another twi’lek. She didn’t look much like Alyea though. She was white as a seashell, with pale green eyes the same color as the Asfaloth sky, and a very large, fierce-looking Mandalorian screech hawk on her shoulder.

Crow backed up into the shadows of the garage, still watching her coo to the bird like it was a baby tooka. He caught a snatch of Dreu’s argument from behind him.

“- and I bet you weren’t planning to go home and see your mother while you’re on-planet, were you?”

“You leave my mother out of this!”

Crow looked back at the bird woman. He caught his breath. The hawk looked right at him and screeched. And the white twi'lek looked right into his eyes, her green gaze startling and frightening.

“I can see you, you know.”

..........

Switch had just finished painting his face - and hands and arms - when the ship landed outside. It was just as beat up and sturdy as the Ebinor, and he was pretty sure he recognized some of the people.

While he was trying to figure out where he’d seen them, the mirialan in front of him - he’d assumed he’d just move aside, even if he was walking backwards - crashed right into him.

“Hey, watch it!” he said automatically, scowling as he stepped back. “Watch where you’re going, mate!”

The mirialan turned around, carrying a crate of spice or something. His eyes were closed, eyelids mottled with scarred skin.

“Well, you know, I would,” he said seriously. “But I can’t find my eyes anywhere.”

Switch held back a laugh, hoping it wasn’t rude to stare. “You’re blind?” he asked stupidly.

“Nope.” He grinned at him. “I just can’t see. What do they call that again?”

He did laugh that time, and took the crate from him. “Well, someone’s snarky today.”

“Thanks, cutie. I try.”

He was glad the mirialan couldn’t see the sudden flush across his face. Switch shook his head, clearing his throat.

“Switch,” he said, shaking his hand. “My name’s Switch. And how do you even know I’m cute?”

“Clones are hot. Everyone knows that.” Without warning he put both green hands on Switch’s chest and felt over his shoulders and neck and face. “Mhm. Just like I thought. Gorgeous.”

Switch almost choked on his tongue trying to respond without being an idiot. “And you are?” he spluttered, blushing furiously.

“Single,” he laughed. “But I’m Vadii, if you want my name. Technically it’s Vadiian Lenrahi, but nobody calls me that. Ever.” Something in his voice told Switch not to ask, so he didn’t. It was probably the same as calling a brother by his number, he reasoned. You called people by the names they chose. Not a difficult concept.

“Wait a second,” Switch said, narrowing his eyes (not that Vadii could see that.) “Didn’t you try to rob us a while back?”

“I honestly don’t fucking know,” he shrugged. “I’m a pirate, we rob tons of people. And I have no idea who most of them are.”

“Rowan screamed at you,” he prompted. “That weequay with one eye was hitting on Dori.”

“Oh, that was you!” he laughed. “Sorry, I couldn’t see what was going on.” He paused, raising his eyebrow. The effect with his scarred eyelids was kind of startling. “That Rowan guy is terrifying. Hot, definitely, but kriffing scary.”

“Right on both counts,” Switch laughed. “And he gets scarier when he loves someone. You should see him and Doriana now, they think they’re being subtle and it’s hilarious.”

“For his sake, I hope he treats her better than Hokair,” Vadii snorted. “She might rip off something more than his eye, if she cares that much.”

From somewhere nearby there was an obnoxiously loud screech, and something huge with wings swooped down and startled Vadii, knocking him forward so he and Switch both fell to the ground, with the mirialan sitting on Switch’s chest.

“Could’ve bought me dinner first,” Switch grinned. He gasped slightly when Vadii’s hands brushed carefully over his face again.

“I like when you smile,” he said. “It makes your voice sound even hotter.”

He was trying to think of a response when the screech-hawk landed placidly on his shoulder, nibbling his ear like it was expecting a treat. Switch looked up to the roof where it had flown from, just in time to see Crow and the white twi’lek woman duck their heads down behind the railing.

He pushed Vadii off his chest and sat up, then leaned close to his face. “My brother’s trying to play matchmaker,” he whispered in his ear. “Wanna return the favor?”

“Definitely,” Vadii purred. “Avis needs to get laid, and Turtle will do anything for a bit of meat. Not unlike me.”

Switch snorted with laughter and rolled his eyes. “You’re terrible, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told.”

.......................

Crow and Avis both ducked behind the railing when Switch and Vadii looked up at them. For a second they were silent, breathing hard with their shoulders pressed together. Both glanced sideways at each other.

Then Crow scowled and shoved her away, standing up. “Get off me!” he snapped. “That was your fault.”

She jumped to her feet and glared at him, stepping closer into his space. “What, just because it was my bird? You're the one who kept blathering on with all those commands you don't understand in the slightest.” Her voice was sharply accented, peppery and cold like spicy resin gum.

To tell the truth, he wasn't quite sure exactly how they'd gotten up to the roof in the first place. From the second the woman – Avis, he reminded himself – had noticed him “lurking,” as she called it, he'd been on edge, sullen and moody. And she was not helping. He'd never met a more infuriating civilian in his life!

“I think I'm fairly safe saying I know some mando'a,” he said, crossing his arms and stepping closer. “Seeing as I learned it from birth.”

“Do you think I've never met a clone before?” She didn't back away from him as he advanced. Her eyes were frosty green ice, like that moon he'd seen in the sky last night. Ice queen.

“First, you're not born. Second, I know you learn secondary languages through the spread of culture, not through training.”

“Oh, piss off,” he growled. “I'm not one of your birds to study and take notes on.” His eyes were almost black, gleaming like polished stones. How much mando'a could she actually know? He smirked, and took another step toward her; still she didn't move away from him.

“Copaani mirshmure'cye, vod?” he said, chin lifted in a challenge.

Her eyes flashed like sun on water, and she stepped closer to, fast and sudden so he was forced to take a step back.

“Kebbur bic,” she replied, voice clipped.

“Maybe I will,” he muttered. He held her gaze, although he didn't think he could actually hit a civilian that wasn't trying to kill him, much less slap her in the face. Try it, she'd said.

“Go ahead. Try.” She poked him in the chest, pushing him back. “Touch me and I'll cut off your hands and feed them to you.”

The urge to laugh came too quick for him to suppress; the corners of his mouth twitched upward and he actually giggled.

She snarled, hooking her foot around his knee to knock him to the ground and kneel on his chest. “You think this is funny?”

“No! No. I don't.” He snickered. “Seriously, sorry. It's just -”

“Just what?” She leaned down and brought her face close to his, her breath cool and minty on his face. Her lekku brushed his shoulders. “You think it's funny that a twi'lek woman can defend herself? You think I won't -”

“It's not that. I just spent a month on a ship with Dreu,” he coughed, shifting uncomfortably. “Actually....” He looked sideways, face flushed. “That was a fantastic line. And I was just picturing Cat and Switch standing behind you high-fiving when you said that.”

She stared at him for a long time, unblinking and unmoving. Then she stood up and pulled him to his feet, dropping his hand like it was poisonous the second he was standing on his own.

“You are the most pig-headed human I have ever had the displeasure of meeting,” she said, both lekku curled up with the tips pointing to her back. And without another word she stormed away down the steps, leaving him bewildered on the roof.

~~~~~~~

“Well, Switch?” Rowan said gently, tapping his brother on the shoulder. “You called the meeting. What's this about?”

“Vadii -” he started, and Cat snickered. Charm cuffed the back of Cat's head.

“Quiet, you,” he muttered. “Let him talk.”

“Vadii says his captain will take us back to Coruscant,” Switch burst out, tapping his fingers on his thigh nervously. “If we want. He said they wouldn't mind as long as Aurren gets paid for it.”

Rowan glanced around at his brothers – at Charm's careful blankness, Crow's scowl, Switch's apprehension. Cat looked afraid, yes, but he also looked hopeful, which was worrying. What did he have to go back to?

Rogue had gone white as a shiny's armor, muttering prayers under his breath as he paced. “You leave me out of it,” he said vehemently. “I'm not going back there.”

Cat tilted his head and frowned, touching Rogue's shoulder. “But Witcher, what about -”

“Don't!” Rogue snapped, stepping away. Cat pouted, looking like a kicked puppy. “I said I'm not going back. And for fuck's sake, stop calling me that.”

Cat went totally still for a second; if it wasn't for the flaring of his nostrils he could've been carved from rock. Then he turned without another word and ran back to the house.

“I'm staying,” Switch said. “I – I mean, what is there for us there?”

“Death,” said Crow helpfully. “Course, that's everywhere, but still.”

“Well, aren't you cheerful.” Charm rolled his eyes, glancing worriedly at the house where Cat had run. “Yeah, I vote we stay too. You can never get decent caf in the barracks.”

The four of them looked at Rowan expectantly, like he had the deciding vote. He blinked back tears and laughed, shaking his head. “You really have to ask?” he said softly. “This is my home. I'm staying. We're all staying.”

The second the words were out of his mouth, Rogue limped away, following Cat to apologize.

With a sudden realization that sent a jolt through his blood, Rowan gasped out loud. And he, too, ran toward the house.

Just as he was about to step through the garage door, Draake grabbed his sleeve and pulled him back out into the workshop.

“Not so fast, son,” he said, tugging him along. “I know where you're going and what you're going to do.”

Rowan swallowed. If Draake didn't want him to be with Doriana - “Sir,” he said evenly, “I love her. And I'm almost positive she loves me to.”

“Obviously.” The old twi'lek's eyes twinkled as he smiled up at him. “I'm not here to give you the 'if you hurt my daughter' speech. We both know she'd rip your guts out long before I could if you did.”

“Yes, I know.” He pulled on the end of his braid. “So what did you want to tell me?”

“About my family, son.”

Draake proceeded to tell him their whole history – how he and his togruta partner Farren had met two performers at the cantina in the Capitol. Tameira was a twi'lek dancer, and Elessa, her togruta girlfriend and singer.

Nobody on Asfaloth cared too much about strict marriage laws, so if the four of them wanted to marry each other, they could – and they did. Those had been the happiest years of Draake's life, he said. By random chance, Tameira had their first daughter, Dreu, but lost her life delivering her. So the first tomb in the cliffside masoleum was filled.

Doriana was born later, and the three of them doted shamelessly on their little girls, and they were happy. Doriana showed every sign of inheriting her mother's angelic singing voice, while Dreu followed Draake around the garage every day and had fixed her first engine at four.

Then Farren started coughing. The medcenters out here couldn't help the mass in his lungs, and where were they going to get money for a trip to the Core? So the second tomb was filled, right beside Tameira's.

Draake and Elessa raised their girls quietly together for the next few years. Draxo was adopted after they found the zabrak boy wandering alone along the cliff, saying his parents had left him.

Then when Dreu was fourteen and Doriana twelve, there was a terrible house fire in the town. Elessa hadn't hesitated for a second – she ran inside to save the nautolan family trapped in their home. She managed to get their newborn child to safety, but the house collapsed before she and the parents could make it out.

He'd sealed up the empty third tomb by himself, Draake said. He took in the baby nautolan, of course, and that was Damyan. Dar'go had come later, when Doriana found him half-starved on the beach.

“She's never sung a note since the fire,” Draake said now, finishing his story. “I know you sing, I've heard you. She loves it.”

Rowan didn't realize he'd been crying until he wiped his eyes. This kind old man had lost so many he loved, had given so much.

“Why are you telling me this?” he asked softly, clasping the twi'lek's hand in his.

“Because you should know your family history,” Draake whispered, “if you're going to be part of this family.” He uncurled his other hand and held out a beautiful silver ring, carved into an elegant leaf shape with a pure sapphire at the center. “This was Elessa's. She'd want you to give it to our daughter when you ask her, my son.”

Rowan's throat was thick with tears as he wrapped his arms around the old man, cradling the precious ring in one hand. “Thank you,” he said, choked up. “Thank you....father.”

Draake laughed, a little wistfully as he wiped his own eyes. “Ah, they'd have loved you,” he sighed. “I just know you'll meet them someday. When we're all together again.”

.....

Doriana handed a stack of plates to Draxo and laughed at something Aurren was saying, listening to a dozen conversations at once. She noticed when Rowan's brothers started to trickle back in – how the tone of the chatter got excited, jubilant even.

Her breath caught when she heard them talk – they were staying here, all of them. She stilled, letting out a soft breath as her eyes blurred. In her mind, all she could see was this house, ten times bigger with haphazard additions and extra stories.  She heard the laughter of small children, saw them chasing each other around the grass – children of several species.

She saw a man, slightly stooped now with silver braided hair and old wise eyes in his lined face, smiling at her with total adoration. Rowan.

Suddenly warm hands in hers jerked her back to the present. The room had gone quiet now, and Rowan stood in front of her, young and vibrant but shining with that same love.

She gasped softly as he knelt at her feet – both knees, not just one, and held out both hands with her mother's ring in his palm.

“Doriana?” he said, almost too quiet to here. “I have no name I can share with you. I only have myself to give. But I would follow you to the end of the universe and back again. All the days of my life are yours. Will you – do you want to – can I be your husband?”

She laughed out loud as she put the ring on, pulling him to his feet and kissing him deeply. They were surrounded by people. Who cared? She loved him. Damn him, this sweet, stubborn man, she loved him so much.