Private Of Fathers and Abuse

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons: Lightsaber
Tag: Corazona von Ascania

He should have just ignored the message.

Gatz had enough going on in his life: while his training was going so much better under Inanna Harth , he was still struggling with all things Force Healing. He was taking on assignments like a ship with a hull breach took on water. There was a war going on, and the Galactic Alliance couldn't even protect the Core Worlds, and so the Jedi were more needed than ever. He spent most days volunteering down in the city, where wounded soldiers in need of medical assistance were shipped in like expedited packages. And he was still battered and bruised from his encounter with that Sithspawn on Tatooine, evident by the fading purple blemishes on the left side of his face.

He didn't have time to meet up with an old smuggling buddy. Not even when Roche said he needed to talk to him 'urgently.' That part of his life was over, and frankly, Roche had both stabbed him and stolen a stolen fortune right out from under Gatz's nose. And, admittedly, a good Jedi wouldn't have been bothered by having money stolen from them, but Gatz was so destitute these days that he couldn't even afford a new pair of boots.

So, he was a little upset that a man who had been like a father to him decided to up and run with millions of credits that Gatz had stolen fair and square.

But without Roche, Gatz would have died in his first week on Nar Shaddaa. The man had turned a frightened seventeen year old boy into a scoundrel, a smuggler, and a killer... but those skills had kept him alive all those years under the Hutts' collective thumb. So yeah, Roche had stabbed him and stolen from him, but in a twisted way Gatz still owed the old Rodian his life.

He'd help the man one last time. That was what he decided.

That was why Gatz was sneaking out of the Jedi Temple at four in the morning, local time. An hour so ungodly that even the sun thought it was too early to rise on the cityscape. But that was kind of the point: he didn't want people to know he was headed back to Nar Shaddaa. Considering his past, they'd just assume he was going back to a life of crime—which he wasn't, but Gatz had neither the time nor patience to explain what was going on.

"Arfour," Gatz muttered very quietly into his commlink, "get the engines spinning. We're heading out for a few days."

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

The hour before dawn was still and quiet.

And so was Cora, as she gently, gently slid the door to Makko's room closed. She would've preferred not to sneak out, would've much preferred to catch up on sleep, but it was the polite thing to do. Not necessarily towards Makko Vyres , but out of respect for the temple.

Easy….easy….

Click!

The door slid into place and Cora let out the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. Now all she had to do was make it back to her dorm a few halls over. Straightening, she turned, and came directly face to face with a familiar blonde who just come from around the corner.

They both stopped. Paused. Cora stared, wide eyed-in panic.

Oh, hell.

Then she sobered, expression perhaps too harsh in self- defense.

"Padawan," She addressed Gatz sternly as if she hadn't been caught standing outside of Makko's room, hair thrown in a messy bun as she carried her own boots.

"What are you doing up at this hour?"

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons: Lightsaber
Tag: Corazona von Ascania

"Padawan," She addressed Gatz sternly as if she hadn't been caught standing outside of Makko's room, hair thrown in a messy bun as she carried her own boots.

The formality and distance in her tone hurt. He didn't care about the clipped way she said it, that was just who Cora was. And yes, she did outrank him, but even Val never pulled that stunt with him, and especially not over something as simple as walking down a hallway at an odd hour.

Gatz thought that they'd been through enough together to be beyond the you're beneath me stuff that had almost deterred their friendship when they'd first met.

"Come on, Cora. I don't even let Valery talk down to me like that. You mean a lot to me, and I'd rather we could just chat like friends."

Now the next words out of her mouth were far less hurtful, and definitely expected considering how early he was up.

"What are you doing up at this hour?"

Gatz almost answered, but stopped as soon as his mouth opened. Something here was off. He'd never seen Cora so disheveled before—her appearance was always so perfect that he figured she just woke up that way. And why weren't her boots on? She struck him as the kind of person who would wrinkle her nose at letting her toes so much as touch dirt, much less a hallway tread by thousands of Jedi who'd stepped in Force knows what.

Two thoughts popped into his head. One: it was downright unfair that even when she wasn't put together Cora could be so beautiful, while he needed beauty sleep and an hour of prep time to look half as good. That was just bullshit. And two: this wasn't even the wing where Cora's room was—

Gatz stopped, and looked at the door she'd just stepped out of.

"...What are you doing up at this hour?"

His tone was far less accusatory, and far more curious than hers had been.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora's expression softened when Gatz insisted that they chat like friends. Sometimes she could come off harsh - more than intended - without trying to.

She was on the cusp of looking sheepish when he turned her own question back at her. A possibility she hadn't considered, but should have.

Cora cleared her throat awkwardly.

"That's n-none of your concern." She insisted, voice wavering. Her free hand tried to pull the collar of her shirt further up in hopes of obscuring a smattering of dark marks along her neck.

Cora looked off to the side, pointedly away from Gatz. A bright flush colored pale cheeks and she pursed her lips for a few seconds before turning her attention back to him.

What she should've done was let her own suspicions rest.

"You didn't answer my question." She intoned flatly.

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons: Lightsaber
Tag: Corazona von Ascania

Well, at least she looked a little guilty for addressing him the way she had. It wasn't an apology by any definition of the word, but Gatz had long since come to accept that Cora was a little abrasive. He could live without an 'I'm sorry.' Besides, if she had to put up with him and his bad jokes and generally annoying behavior, couldn't he at least deal with a harsh tone here and there?

Neither of them were perfect, and they were both pretty good at annoying each other. That was basically the basis of what their friendship was founded on.

Cora started pulling her collar up, and Gatz didn't understand what—

"That's n-none of your concern."

Then it clicked. And a positively joyous grin broke across Gatz's face.

"Oh, I didn't realize the Princess of Ukatis was engaged in a booty call," his grin turned shit-eating, "I'll move along. I might even keep my mouth shut. But we can discuss that in a couple of days. Until then, Princess!"

He wouldn't breathe a word of this to anyone, of course. Gatz would never humiliate Cora like that—because that was leaking personal info, and he'd be crossing a line that was far more serious than teasing Cora by lying to a couple of Kel'dor girls. But she didn't need to know that right now. In fact, it was way funnier if she thought he was going to blab!

Let her sweat it a little bit. Just enough to embarrass her and amuse him. She could consider it payback for addressing him the way she had.

"You didn't answer my question." She intoned flatly.

"Technically, you didn't answer mine either," that damn smirk still wouldn't wipe itself off his face, "but don't worry, I'm not up to anything nearly as scandalous as you. It won't be as fun, either."

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

"Wh…wha-"

Cora almost couldn't believe what she was hearing. The color in her cheeks darkened, spreading a crimson flush down to her sternum. Blue eyes flared wide. She was the picture of utter shock.

"You- don't use such vulgar language!"

Hissing to keep her voice low, she suppressed the urge to beat Gatz over the head with her boots. She did not need a youngling asking her what a booty call was.

Instead, she looked off to the side and willed herself to calm down. Not that she owed him an explanation, but she wasn't keen on letting things sit and marinate. This would be handled now.

“If you must know, Makko and I were watching a movie last night and I fell asleep."

The supplied explanation was mumbled, and Cora pulled at her collar to allow herself a moment to cool down.

"Now, what is it that you're up to?"

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons: Lightsaber
Tag: Corazona von Ascania

Gatz had seen Cora blush and stutter before. Seeing her be the shade of his jacket was just about his favorite sight in the galaxy—there was just something so inherently joyful in watching a prim, proper princess be so mortified that she was practically glowing. But he had never seen this shade of red. Everything that had come before—calling her beautiful, embarrassing her in front of Ko's fangirls, and whatever else he had done—none of those quite compared to the way her whole body seemed to light up now.

So this was how she blushed when she was caught red-handed.

As much as Gatz wanted to continue poking the bear, and get just a little bit more under her skin, he feared that Cora was rapidly approaching the line where she'd consider retribution. Also, if her face turned any more red, she might actually explode. So, generous as he often was, Gatz decided to wrap everything up with one last lighthearted jab.

“If you must know, Makko and I were watching a movie last night and I fell asleep."

"Ah yes, 'watching a movie.' Famous for putting hickies on a young woman's neck."

But then, Cora asked after what he was doing yet again, and Gatz didn't think he could dodge the question a third time. He suspected Cora's persistence would win out against his (rapidly failing) ability to talk his way out of trouble.

"An old friend called me, from my days smuggling spice." Gatz's tone turned a lot more somber, "usually I ignore messages like that, but he said it was an emergency, and asked me to meet him as soon as I could."

He frowned.

"He's not exactly a trustworthy guy, so it's probably just a ploy to get me to move some product for him, in which case I'll throw his beer in his face and decline." Gatz decided, "but, if something's really amiss... I want to make sure he's okay."

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

A sharp glare practically cut through Gatz. Of all the people to have caught her…

Cora reminded herself that it could've been worse. Far worse. A bit of teasing was nothing against a ruined reputation, and Gatz wasn't the type to go blabbing. Still, she rubbed a hand over the dark marks on her neck.

Fortunately, the topic switched and Cora's expression, while still red, began to sober. She listened quietly, nodding along. It would be hard to ignore a call for help, even if it was from someone Gatz had a complicated relationship with.

"Very well."

Placing her boots on the ground, she slipped her feet inside and began to re-tie them.

"I will accompany you."

Pausing, she raised a hand to dissuade any argument - if there was one.

"Not that I don't trust you, but that sounds dangerous. I'd feel terribly guilty if one of my friends got hurt."

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons: Lightsaber
Tag: Corazona von Ascania

Cora's withering gaze could have leveled an ecumenopolis. But Gatz bore it just fine, having plenty of practice trying not to melt under Valery Noble 's glares. Like apprentice, like master, but when he was used to enduring them from said master...

Well, a sharp look alone rarely deterred Gatz these days. That being said, he let the matter of Cora's booty call rest. He'd had his fun, and she'd been flustered for long enough. As it was, the marks on her neck were far more mortifying than any jokes he might have made. Well, that wasn't true—they were just far more mortifying than any jokes he'd make to her face. Half of the jokes that crossed his mind went through an extensive filtering process, so that they weren't too vulgar when they finally left his lips.

He was learning! Just... slowly.

"I will accompany you."

"Cora—" But she stopped him with a hand held in her direction, and he listened. Gatz wondered what young him would have thought, if he'd known that one day he'd kowtow to rich girls like Briana Sal-Soren and Cora. Little him probably would have had a melt down. Or gotten violently sick. Or both.

"Princess, I spent seven years of my life on Nar Shaddaa. I'll be fine," Gatz smiled softly, "but... I'd be glad for the company. So long as she remembers that I'm an adult, and not a child."

Gatz winked, but there was an undercurrent of seriousness to the last part of his statement. He wasn't miffed enough to bring it up just yet, but Cora had a habit of speaking to him as if he were like any other Padawan—a kid, and not a full-grown man capable of making his own choices. He didn't want to spark an argument, but he didn't like that.

Still, having her around was better than not having her around. Even if they butted heads at times.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

As he spoke, Cora's brows rose, then rested. She nodded, tilting her head in acknowledgment. At times, her natural manner of speaking could come off as arrogant and patronizing - an aspect she sometimes forgot.

"You're not a child." She agreed. "It's just…"

A dark memory filtered in, one of Makko spiced out on a couch in one of Denon's seedy clubs Fractal State had owned. Cora bit the inside of her cheek and willed that cloud to evaporate. It did, but the sentiment still hung in her mind.

"Friends don't let friends approach untrustworthy spice dealers alone?"

Even the word spice sounded odd coming from her. Like it didn't match.

Cora smoothed her hair over one shoulder, temporarily camouflaging the marks on her neck.

"How long have you known this person for?"

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons: Lightsaber
Tag: Corazona von Ascania

"Friends don't let friends approach untrustworthy spice dealers alone?"

Gatz fought off the lump in his throat. A year and a half ago, everyone he knew would have thrown him under the bus for a few extra credits. And, in truth? He'd have done the same to them. Yet here he was now, a Jedi, with a Princess ready to go to bat for him. A Princess who—even if she could be patronizing at times—had taken time out of her schedule to support him, tutor him, and now protect him from the horrors of the life he used to live.

He felt an overwhelming urge to hug her. Instead, he offered her a small, sad smile.

"Cora, I'm pretty sure I ought to be lumped in with the 'untrustworthy spice dealers.' Or, smugglers, in this case." He said quietly, "but thank you. It'd be nice to have a friend watching out for me."

Trust was a mythical thing on Nar Shaddaa. Once upon a time, Gatz thought he'd found the one person on the Smuggler's Moon that he could trust: Roche. Oh, if only younger him had known how wrong he was. Trust was a death sentence on that rotten moon, usually via a knife in the back. But going there with a Jedi? One he literally trusted with his life? That made him feel a whole lot lighter.

"And I know 'friendships aren't meant to be transactional,'" Gatz smiled, "but in return, I can take care of those little blemishes of yours. Unless you want to wear turtlenecks for the rest of the week."

Gatz motioned for the Princess to follow him, as he led the way to the hangar. Along the way, Cora asked about Roche, and how long he'd known him. And... that was more of a story than a simple answer.

"Since I was seventeen," Gatz tried a simple answer anyways, "after my dad was murdered... well, someone had to put food on the table and pay off my mother's medical debt. When hauling regular freight wasn't enough, I turned to smuggling. I met this ancient Rodian named Roche on my first day on Nar Shaddaa. Would have died within a week with out him. And instead of just robbing me blind, and stealing my ship, he took me under his wing. Taught me everything I know about crime—how to smuggle, how to bribe a man, how to lie... and how to kill."

His voice turned somber at that last part, and a frown crossed his face. Gatz didn't like to think about how much blood was on his hands, but it was hard to reflect on his past and skim over that part.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

For a moment, Cora frowned in concern. When would Gatz realize that the people around him didn't see him in the same way as he saw himself? Now wasn't the time to push that, though. She simply smiled in return and tugged the collar of her shirt up a little higher.

It didn't budge, but she seemed to be considering his offer.

As they made way towards the hangar, Gatz relayed how he'd come to know Roche. Cora's gentle expression sank back into a frown as he described the circumstances that life had forced him into. A sick mother, a dead father, and bills piling up. What choice did he have?

Only a few years older than her, and already he'd lived a lifetime of struggle.

"That's…a lot to put on a seventeen-year old." Her voice was quiet, soft. "But I think I can understand why you're worried about him. Relationships are rarely black and white."

Cora felt a similar way about her father. He'd used her as a political pawn, but he had a heavy hand in shaping her into the person she'd become, the good and the bad.

"Hopefully it's nothing serious."

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons: Lightsaber
Tag: Corazona von Ascania

The Red Night had seen better days.

When Gatz had first met Cora, his vessel had still been in near-perfect condition. Her outer plating had been smooth and undamaged, and she'd still been adorned in her traditional red and black paint scheme. Her engines had always been primed and ready for flight, and all of them had worked, even the extra engine he'd installed where the auxiliary starfighter used to be. There was nothing more important to Gatz than his father's ship, and it had showed.

But his time as a Jedi, and the intense assignments he kept finding himself on, had taken a toll on his prized vessel. She was durasteel grey now, her paint having been stripped from the hull during a particularly fast atmospheric entry. Her extra engine was dead, and of the four that remained, two sputtered as if they were on the verge of burning themselves out. And the hull was full of dings and scrapes.

Gatz gave a little sad sigh, as his eyes took in the state of the only possession he had left.

"But I think I can understand why you're worried about him. Relationships are rarely black and white."

"He turned me into what I am," Gatz said mournfully, turning back to the conversation at hand, "but I also would never have survived without him. And after my dad died, he was the closest thing I had left to one. It's weird, but... I think I love and hate him all at once."

He led the way up the boarding ramp, after it lowered with a jittering wheeze. Just another thing that used to work just fine, and now didn't. His ship was still in a better state now than when he and Valery had gone to Midvintir, but repairs on a vessel this big took hundreds of hours, and he just didn't have that kind of time.

"I'm really hoping it isn't serious," Gatz agreed, "and that this is just a ploy to convince me to work with him again. But I've never heard Roche call anything an emergency. Even when his wife was hospitalized, that was just 'not the greatest day.'"

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

The Red Night had lost its namesake. In fact, the ship appeared to have been though…quite a lot since she'd last seen it during their first meeting. Cora almost winced as Gatz sighed.

As he described his complex feelings regarding Roche, she gave him a weary smile. "It's an unfair feeling, isn't it?"

That was what happened when you let people in - they had the capacity to both hurt you and build you up. Still, Cora wouldn't pretend to truly understand how the struggles of poverty could change a man's priorities. As harsh as her father had been, she'd never wanted for basic needs.

"If this truly is an emergency, what do you think it might be?"

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons: Lightsaber
Tag: Corazona von Ascania

"It's an unfair feeling, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Gatz answered, his voice barely above a whisper, "but life isn't fair. We both have reason enough to know that."

For all his own trials and tribulations, Gatz would never understand the travesties that had befallen Cora. Her abuse at the hands of her douchebag ex-husband—whose name he still refused to use, and would always refuse to use—and the way her father had used her as a political tool, his own daughter passed around to whomever would bring him the most—

No. No he couldn't think of that now. Just the thought of what those two had done to her could make him angrier than he was when he'd murdered Kreth Garr. And a Jedi was supposed to be above losing themselves in such emotion.

Cora asked him, then, what Roche might consider an emergency. He chose to focus on that question, as an escape from the rage beginning to cloud his mind.

"Knowing Roche?" Gatz sighed, not needing more than a moment to come to a conclusion, "he probably owes a debt to someone dangerous, and they're trying to kill him because he hasn't paid up. Wouldn't be the first time he's owed a Hutt money."

Gatz flicked a switch... only for the lights in the cargo hold to stay dead. He let out an aggravated breath. That damn droid still hadn't fixed the lighting? He'd had nearly a week! With a shake of his head, Gatz marched to the ladder in the center of the cargo bay, and began to climb to the upper deck.

"Hey, Tin Can!" Gatz shouted up the ladder, "what gives? I told you to fix these lights days ago!"

<I demand a living wage!> Came the chirp in binary, echoing probably from the cockpit, <I have no money for food, clothing, or shelter!>

"You're a droid!" Gatz felt a vein in his forehead pulse, "you don't need food, you don't need clothing, and the ship you refuse to repair is your shelter!"

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora nodded absently - an owed debt made sense enough.

Click.

The cargo hold remained dark. Elsewhere in the ship, up through the hatch, R4 responded to Gatz's admonishment in warbling binary. She followed along, struggling to hold back a full-on grin during their exchange.

"Maybe he feels under-appreciated?" She tried and failed to keep a musical tone of amusement out of her voice. She didn't have much insight into Gatz's relationship with his astromech, but she knew enough to know that he wasn't abusing the droid.

Some were just programmed sassy.

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons: Lightsaber
Tag: Corazona von Ascania

There was something in Cora's voice he hadn't heard before. He couldn't parse it; couldn't place it. He'd always liked the sound of her voice, especially when she was being stern, but that wasn't it. This wasn't like the times when she admonished him, or he'd gotten under her skin and she was stuttering and putting her foot down. It was... it was like...

Like she was happy. Or maybe just mirthful. Or even just amused.

But it struck Gatz that he'd never heard Cora sound happy or joyful. Serious, contemplative, regretful, even appreciative—he was familiar with all those things in the tones of her voice, but not this new music that was gracing his ears. But then, what reason had she ever had to be happy? Her home had been reduced to ashes, and they'd had to dig her sister out of the rubble. She'd had to keep him from starving and dying from a lack of sleep, and then bolster his lessons with tutoring that must have taken so much time out of her busy schedule. And she clearly hadn't been amused with him on Dorin.

Gatz decided that there was a better sight than Cora when she was flustered and embarrassed: Cora when she was happy.

"Maybe he feels under-appreciated?"

"More like his logic circuits are shot," Gatz snorted, "he's nine hundred years old, and he's never had a memory wipe. Half his 'repairs' just cost me more work."

<The Red Night is unfair! Gatz Derrevar is in there!> R4 started rolling around the two of them in circles—which left the droid either banging into one of them, or the walls of the narrow corridor, <Standing at the concession! Plotting his oppression!>

Gatz didn't usually put up with R4's antics, but maybe just this once...

"Alright, Arfour, I'll cave," Gatz sighed, "what do you want—not clothes or credits, but I mean what do you actually want?"

<I want a new paint job. And I want a hug.> His dome spun, his single eye regarding Cora for a moment, <...from the both of you.>

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

"Nine-hundred years? Does he have the memory for that? Oh-"

Cora narrowly side-stepped R4's path of protest, and winced as the astromech subsequently bumped into a wall.

"Er, I suppose that'll be points for creativity?" She looked to Gatz and raised a brow. Their conversations often delved into deep, uncomfortable topics, so it was nice to see the lighthearted antics between the pilot and Arfour.

A new paint job and a hug seemed like reasonable concessions. At least, they did to someone who'd grown up wealthy. In that vein, a paint job would've been easier than a hug.

Everyone deserved to feel pretty, she figured.

"…both of us?" Cora looked from Arfour to Gatz, a little surprised. "Er, I suppose…"

She knelt and awkwardly held out her arms.

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons: Lightsaber
Tag: Corazona von Ascania

Cora asked if R4 had the memory space for nine hundred years of history. A more than fair question, given the astromech's near ancient design. But Gatz opted to stay silent and let his droid's sheer lack of processing power be the answer to that question, as the stupid ass bounced dome first off of a wall.

He supposed, though, that he should be grateful for the droid's antics. The rest of his life was full of hardship and pain—Gatz genuinely had lost count of how many times he'd been severely wounded in this last year alone. R4 was a break from that misery, even if that break was peppered with exasperated sighs. Annoying or not, it was better than being peppered with blaster bolts.

"Alright, deal." Gatz agreed, "I'll get you a new coat of paint, but I'm not making Cora—"

"Er, I suppose…"

Look, hugging a droid was an unusual thing for most people, but Cora made it look like a toddler trying to walk for the first time. It made Gatz wonder if she'd ever been hugged before. And then, recalling what he knew of her douchebag father and foul monster of an ex-husband, he realized that she may very well have not.

Not for the first time, Gatz was overcome with a desire to hug the Ukatian Princess. But he figured that she might see that as a lack of decorum, and hugging someone randomly was typically frowned upon, so he restrained himself as he usually did.

Tin Can, on the other hand, took full enjoyment from her embrace. He shimmied happily, not unlike a child, and let off a string of binary that resembled joyful trills more than it did words.

"Alright Tin Can, let the poor woman go." Gatz shook his head, and turned to Cora, "Princess, there are two empty cabins aboard. Both clean. Feel free to use one if you want to catch up on some of the sleep you lost. I'll get us going."