The Long Road Home

[Valgærd]

"Get on your knees, dammit!"

"I'm not your mother last night, prick!"

I was seething with hatred.

It's probably a good--no it's absolutely a good thing I'm not sensitive to the force, or I would be channelling some serious dark side right now. How dare he. The human standing in front of me was also very lucky that I wasn't force sensitive. I'm pretty sure that right now I would have been able to fry his shebs with lightning from my eyes at this point. Hells, I don't know how to Jedi do it.

The galaxy had shown me much of what she had to offer. Some of it freely available, some of it... less so. I had made the rounds, visited the highest-class casinos I could get into, as well as the stingiest dive-bars I could track down. Credits, gambling, risks, rewards, plenty of pain, but it had been so worth it. Two people had stayed in my mind the whole time; [member="Kaine Australis"] and [member="Caz Australis"], husband and wife, both mine.

There was a reason I hadn't checked in with them as often as I shouldn't. Well, there were plenty. For one, I'm pretty karked in the head. They say Twi'leks are bred for slavery and it doesn't affect us to the same degree as it would other races. I suppose that's true to an extent, but a lifetime of basically being a serving platter certainly didn't leave me healthy. I have issues. One day I'll get over them. I still loved them both very dearly, perhaps if I see them again they might even forgive me. I would like that.

But right now, I would like to stick my boot up this nerf herder's... well... and kick his teeth out from the back.

I couldn't even remember the name of the planet I'd landed on. Some dustbowl of a hole, out on the outer rim. I was floating, running away from my problems, running away from all those horrible grown-up things like issues and feelings. I had let my guard down. Some dive-bar, several drinks and this man had somehow talked me into leaving with him.

That's when they'd struck.

The guys in his gang. There'd been a scuffle which, to cut a long story short, had ended with them all dead, my little friend laying just out of reach in the dust, me disarmed, and this thug pinning me against a wall with his forearm.

That had been a bad idea. Because now I could see the brand, one that made me see red. I hadn't seen my old Master's brand since I'd taken that shuttle and fled. I'd been fighting for my life before, but I was fighting that bastard now.

 

[Valgærd]

"OW! queen!"

Ooooh that felt good. Not necessarily the physical sensation of biting a chunk out of this guy's arm. That was disgusting and he was sweaty and dirty and I really didn't want to thing about what was on my tongue right now. However, tearing that chunk of flesh, permanently disfiguring that horrible mark... that felt pretty good, and his horrified scream was just the little cherry on top. It was almost worth what immediately followed, almost.

I spat out the chunk of skin and flesh, which landed in the ground beside us, and turned and grinned at him. Yeah, not so delicious now, am I?

But the man didn't suddenly retract his arm in terror, as I'd been hoping. Instead, his other hand--the one holding the pistol--and slammed it into the side of my head. Everything suddenly disappeared as my world was shaken up. Pain shot through my skull as up become down and I was flung to the ground. For a moment I was stunned, my brain forced to reboot somewhat as it recovered from the trauma. My eyes were squeezed shut as I forced back the nausea. But before the moment even passed, his shadow fell over me.

"You... taste... like blueberries..." I managed to wheeze out with a smirk, mimicking one of his lines from earlier.

Okay, it was a horrible idea, but that expression on his face meant I didn't regret it, even as he suddenly kicked me in the stomach. I gasped, clutching at the ground as the wind was knocked out of me. I tried to brace, drawing up my knees as my eyes darted frantically around for my gun.

There! Oh Kriff...

It was easily 12 feet away, maybe more. I gritted my teeth, trying to summon what strength hadn't been kicked out of me to roll away to one side so I could recover and get to my feet. Kaine... Cerani... if you're out there... I could use a hand.

 

[Valgærd]

"Oh you think... this scares me?"

Laughing when you've been repeatedly kicked in the stomach is a hell of a feat, and making it sound genuine even more so. However, I'd had a lot of practice. Being something of a brat when you're enslaved to a cruel Master is not recommended for the faint of heart. So laugh I did, staring up at him from the dust. That seemed to give him pause. Not much but just enough for me to roll away and haul myself to my feet. I was dizzy, aching all over, barely able to tell which way was up. But that wasn't a problem; I'd been like this plenty of times.

"I think it hurts you." He sneered.

We'd reached a momentary stand-off, one for which I was grateful as I was finally able to catch my breath. Blood ran down his arm, dripping into the sand. I had one hand wrapped around my stomach, relying wholly on the adrenaline to keep the pain at bay long enough to out-chicken this guy and get to my gun. We'd both seen it. It was the last one. First person to reach it wins.

"Has the Master gone soft, then?" I shot back, circling slowly. He glared at me, but I threw him my most flirtatious wink and continued, "that's a shame... I was hoping it would take my husband longer to beat you to a pulp."

I had hoped that that would make the blood drain from his face, to make him freeze in fear so I could leap for the blaster. But instead, the corners of his mouth curled up into a vicious smile that made my blood curdle.

"Married, Blueberry?" He sneered, "oh the Master will be displeased. You'll have to be..." his gaze dropped a foot or so, then raised back up to my face, "... repaired."

I swallowed. Whatever ground I had gained with my words, he took back. My fingers curled a little as I cradled my stomach with my free hand. I had made peace with most of my past--don't look at my like that, drowning it in alcohol is definitely the same thing--but there was one thing I had never confronted... and that was it. I tried to shrug off the weight he'd thrown on my shoulders, refusing absolutely to let him see the effect of his words.

"Tell you what, you snivelling kark," I spat venomously, "you survive against my husband the Mandalorian, you can march me in there yourself."

Whatever had passed over my face earlier, seemed to suddenly cross his. Whatever he'd been expecting from this husband, it apparently hadn't been that. Gaining a little ground, I continued,

"Oh I hope he wears the buy'ce with the blood stain on it," I continued with a sneer, "... it's the remains of a sith lord. I wonder what he'll do to you, boy, when he finds you?"

"You're lying!"

He roared at the same time as he lunged for me. I had intended to dive out of the way, but with my injured stomach I was slower than I'd been expecting. We both landed with a thud in the dirt, tussling and straining and grunting as we fought for the upper hand. I got a leg around his waist, straining as hard as I could to rip him off me. Unfortunately, his hands found my throat, and he began to squeeze.

"... just... you... wait." I wheezed, watching the desperation grow in his eyes.

 

[Valgærd]

Everything... had started to go blurry...

I could feel myself beginning to slip as the thug's hands around my neck tightened and my air supply was cut off. I strained and struggled, fighting back as hard as I could, but I was weakening. The edges of my vision had grown dark, I was seeing spots. Blood pounded in my ears and that deep pang of utter panic had shot through my gut. In the back of my mind, strange thoughts began to circle. A part of me hoped he'd actually kill me, because I knew that if he did, the Master would peel his skin off and feed it to him... if he was lucky. Another thought took over; I didn't want to die. I wanted to see the old scruffbag Mandalorian again. What I'd had hadn't been enough, and I regretted having spent the time I'd had away from him.

Suddenly, a huge weight was lifted from my chest... literally.

Rolling to one side, I coughed and spluttered, gagging as my body fought to drag in breath after precious breath. For a few moments I didn't even try to process what had happened. I was being choked, now I wasn't, that's all that mattered.

"Are you okay, Cyar'ika?"

I knew that voice, altered as it was slightly by the buy'ce. I glanced up to see a suit of Mandalorian armor standing over me, one hand outstretched, holding the struggling, swearing, spluttering thug. I pulled myself to my feet, collapsing almost immediately from the sudden rush to my half-starved brain. With a grimace, I tried again, tucking myself into his side and wrapping my arms around that armoured chest piece.

It's difficult to describe how a cold, smooth piece of metal can feel warm and inviting, but I promise you, nothing in the galaxy would have given me more comfort than feeling those smooth plates against my cheek as I rested my head against his chest. I tried to speak, but only coughed as my airways were still opening back up. On the second attempt, however, I was gentler, and managed to get out a few words.

"I-I'm... fine... Cyar'ika..." I managed to wheeze, "... y-you're late."

As I leaned into Kaine's beskar'gam, the pain seemed to just fade away. My eyes flickered to the man still struggling in his grip, whose expression had gone from rage to utter terror.

I smiled.

 

[Valgærd]

"I'm sure you can make it up to me on your ship, Warmaster."

My reply was accompanied by a smirk, as I reached up on my tiptoes and kissed the side of his buy'ce. There was a small part of me that was making a slight show of it for the sake of the thug, but if I was honest with myself... there would have been more of a show if he wasn't there. There were few things in this galaxy that I'd found to be better than the embrace of the old scruff-bag Mandalorian, especially moments like this as he opened his gauntlet-clad hand and dropped the man to the ground. I can defend myself, and most of the time I prefer to... but I had forgotten that sometimes it's nice to see how far someone would go to protect me, it made me feel... loved.

I took a step back as suddenly Kaine swung his arm around and punched the brute in the gut, dropping him to the ground in an instant. He spoke, addressing the snivelling, coughing sack of chit on the ground as I watched, folding my arms.

A boot, swiftly delivered to the man's stomach, then followed, along with a dark warning. I could practically feel the sneer beneath the buy'ce, the utter disdain that someone would dare lay a hand on his precious Nibsani...

Huh.

My self-esteem is just fine, really, I can pull anyone I want to and I'm aware of that. However... never had I ever actually considered myself "precious". I've always just been a whole lotta sass wrapped up in a pretty blue skin, fun? Sure. Useful? Hell yeah. But... precious? Valuable? Not until Kaine and Caz had come along and then, not since I had slipped away.

I walked around behind the thug, pushing those thoughts out of my mind for the time being. I reached down and grabbed a chunk of his hair at the base of his skull, thumb and pinky finger cradling the bottom of his head. It was a very specific grip, pinching the nerves just slightly... but it was the trademark of our old Master's men, his favourite way to control disobedient slaves. This thug might be out here without a collar, but I'd seen the brand. I knew he was in just as deep as I'd been.

That grip had the desired effect; snapping him out of his winded daze as a jolt of reflexive, icy fear would have shot through him. I turned his head up towards the Mandalorian, leaning down to whisper in his ear just loud enough for Kaine to hear as well;

"Make it through this, and the Master will see you personally."

Perhaps slightly cryptic, I didn't expect Kaine to know exactly what it meant. However, the thug clearly did. As I suspected, he had sent plenty other Twi'leks back. Those words were a code. Upon being returned, I would have been exposed to 're-education'. Maybe half of us survived it. Upon being taken to re-education, those were the last words one of us would hear; words designed to send fear through her. What followed would be hell, even for us.

There was a smile on my face as I stood and stepped back, walking back around behind the Mandalorian. There was a part of me that had always wanted to say that, to watch some scumbag tremble and whimper the way my sisters had. And tremble he did, snivelling and shaking, reduced to a blubbering mess. For a moment I paused; I hoped that his apparent mental snap wouldn't cause Kaine to go easy on him.

 

[Valgærd]

I could feel my heart racing in my chest as I watched the Mandalorian.

There is a lot of rage in the galaxy, a lot of anger and loathing. I'd seen plenty, even been subjected to a fair bit myself in my past. However, the instances of true fury, of pure, unbridled hatred were surprisingly relatively rare. I'd seen perhaps one or two moments in my entire life where the rage was so hot and so powerful that it actually sent chills down my spine This... was one of those moments. It was unlikely that he'd ever admit it, but there was a purity about the old Warmaster, which was why his fury was equally so.
the
Those chills grew stronger and my heart thudded heavily in my chest as he stepped towards the thug. The anticipation was almost palpable in the air. My breaths had become quick and shallow, pulse rhythmically thumping in my earnodes. Even my lekku seemed to tingle with excitement as I clenched my jaw and held my composure as best I could.

The Warmaster did as warmasters do, and ended the miserable fool's life. As I watched, he drew a blood eagle on the man's back, complete with his clan symbol... our clan symbol. I became aware that by then I had been holding my breath and biting my lip, fists clenched at my sides. Releasing the breath in a low sigh, I felt my cheeks flush. When he was done, the Mandalorian stepped back, and I stepped in to wrap my arms around him and admire the handiwork right along with him. I doubt he'd be able to feel my heart racing against the plates of his armour, maybe he would hear that my breaths were fast, almost fluttering.

I could hold it in for only a few moments before I moved in front of Kaine, grabbed his buy'ce in both hands, and attempted to slide it from his head.

Provided he let me, the man would then find a very eager, very grateful pair of blue lips pressed firmly upon his, arms snaking around his neck, helmet dropped to the ground.

 

[Valgærd]

We should go

Three whole words? I was losing my touch.

But as Kaine pulled away, I knew he was right. Much as I could have simply leapt upon him right there, this place was far too exposed here. Besides that, half a dozen bodies lay in the dust; the most recent of which significantly disfigured. I managed a nod to the Mandalorian, feeling my heart race and my head spin as I fought to contain myself enough to pull away from his embrace. Then I glanced again at the body laying on the ground. He'd done that... for me. Kaine had literally painted a huge target on his own back, a target for a master whose cruelty would possibly surprise even him.

Okay, so after that I needed a few more moments. But eventually, I was able to find the strength to take a few steps without my knees buckling and swiftly picked up my blaster pistol from the dust. Brushing the sand from its gleaming surface, I holstered the small but deadly weapon and skipped back over to Kaine.

Less linking my arm in his and more clinging to him like an excitable girl, I turned up to his face. Oh goddess, I could stare into it all day. But no, he was right, we had to go.

"To your ship, Kain'ika" I instructed, "I'm covered in sand I plan to get very naked."

With a little luck... so did he.

 

[Valgærd]

I barely saw the path on the way back.

My focus was turned solely onto Kaine. It was now, clinging to his arm, that I began to fully realise just how much I had missed him, and Caz, too. It was more than just his presence, but it was the subtle things, too. His smell, the way his breaths became deeper when he was thinking really hard, the subtlety in how he was careful not to accidentally bruise me. It didn't seem to matter how many times I told him that wasn't an issue, it was hard-wired into that frustratingly stubborn head of his, and I had missed it dearly.

It was a good thing Kaine was leading the way, I had no idea where we were going. Thankfully, however, our destination soon appeared.

The tension between us had been steadily growing, even without the force, I could sense it. Our pace had quickened, grips on one another slightly tighter than before. I knew he likely had a lot of questions, and I'm sure there was a lecture in my future about traipsing off by myself, and likely several cheeky "I told you so"s as well. But who cares? I would gladly take every single one of them (and by 'take', I of course mean 'provide a snarky rebuttal to') because I was home, wherever Kaine was, home was there.

We boarded the shuttle, with my reflexively moving to brush off Kaine's helping hand. However, I stopped myself, and instead allowed him to help me up into the ship. He knew I didn't need it, so did I, but sometimes it was nice to be treated like a princes... just a little bit.

At first, he reached for the first aid kit, but before I could stop him, the Mandalorian stopped himself, and laughed. I chuckled alongside him, and as he began to remove his armour, I peeled away my own layers of duster spacer's leather. They were dropped to the floor, and kicked aside as I rolled back my shoulders and craned my neck, stretching and mewling with content.

My focus them moved to Kaine himself, one eyebrow raised and a smirk planted firmly upon my lips as I spied him in just his shorts.

I took a step backwards, beckoning him deeper into the shuttle proper.

"What are you doing all the way over there?" I asked with a soft purr and a coy smile, "you have a wife to tend to."