It was a rare night to be planet side these days.
Cole Farrow had taken the opportunity to visit the city of Estle, finding a bar and enjoying a somewhat normal evening. It was a night of strangers and forgetting, for enjoying the experience of the closest thing to normalcy the Human could garner. A Zabraki woman had flirted with him for some time, not getting the hint for some time and trying to convince him by complaining about her partner. Even if he was interested, he would never have been drunk enough to have a random Zabrak pissed at him for bedding their partner. She left and his drinks continued, making passing friends at the bar whom he’d enjoy a conversation with before they continued on their way never having even exchanged names.
Instead of a hotel, the Human was headed back towards the Citadel. There were free barracks there after all and while it was a long walk it wasn’t one he minded doing while tipsy. Drunk he’d have found way into a hotel but it wasn’t so far.
It was early in the morning of the next day, most asleep bar the few lights on in the working buildings. Overnight security or the odd person who stayed up so late. Cole couldn’t judge.
It was when he was halfway to the Citadel, deeper into the residential sector when a sharp pain erupted from his back as flesh was torn. In a moment, a peaceful night became a fight for his life.
Cole always carried a weapon, a blaster. Not so useful in a close quarters fight.
The Farrow swung round, clipping the first assailant with a punch to the side of the head. It sent the man stumbling, but left him barely dodging a second attacker making their own swing. The third, another Human, struck true to his shoulder sending a tangle of pain down the nerves of his left arm.
Good job his favoured hand was his right.
He threw another punch for the second man, who as expected was coming in again to swing. Catching the second in the jaw, he used the gap in space from him stumbling to get both of the others in his field of view. Cole shook his left arm, and then stepped forward back into the fray with a growl.
An elbow to the groin of number three, bowing down to do so meaning he dodged the punch of the first. A sweeping kick sent One down to the floor with a gasp. A gasp that he didn’t get to finish before Cole stomped on his ribcage, feeling his foot impact and then shudder down as various ribs cracked underfoot.
The third got him in the back again, although not with a punch. The other Human grabbed and yanked away, pulling the blade they’d stabbed him with before back out. Cole hissed, swinging around to punch but got caught in the side with kick from the second.
He hit the floor, head bouncing against the ground. Stars sparked in his eyes but adrenaline ran strong. The second had barely begun to talk when he shoved himself up.
“You’ll pay for what you did to his pa Farrow-”
Cole grabbed the wrist of the third wielding the knife and forced the blade into the man’s own thigh. Still shocked from his being speech interrupted, the second didn’t have time to step away before Cole grabbed him around the legs and pulled him prone to the floor. The impact of hitting the ground stunned him, allowing the Farrow to stand up, feet on the other’s hands in time for the second to slash his arms.
At least it wasn’t the face like was intended.
Cole tried to grab for the hand. He was tiring though, missing the hand and ending up stuck in a moment of momentum. A moment too long. The second stepped forward and shoved the knife into his side, starting to twist when Cole headbutted him.
The second stumbled, releasing the blade but not getting far enough. With two out of the way for now he had Cole’s focus.
And Cole was pissed.
As the third dragged the still dazed first away, the mercenary got the second to the floor. He punched until he felt the bones in his knuckles break. One of by one, until the pain was too much for logic to be overridden by the anger.
Then he stood.
The knife was still in his side, angled enough that the tip of it poked out the other. The wound from the first stab was bleeding sluggishly.
The Citadel was still some time away, but he didn’t know where the local med centre even was.
Spitting blood out of his mouth, and ignoring the way the street swayed, the Human started to continue the path he was taking prior. Trying to. Each step seared at both wounds. The knife shifted subtly and scraped at the flesh within. Cole’s breaths were more akin to a hissing snake, laboured but forced through clenched teeth.
He stumbled, staying in motion but unable to conceal the struggle it was to keep doing so.
Moments passed. Moments into minutes. Step by step the scraping felt more and more like it was gnawing at him. He stopped, a hand pressed flat against a nearby wall as he leaned forward and spat blood onto the pavement. The nerves in his hand lit ablaze at his digits stretching, knuckles shifting in ways they shouldn’t.
This would be a kriffing awful way to die. On the side of the street stabbed, beaten and alone-
Alone.
Cole closed his eyes, tears threatening to overspill. Jaw clenched he tried to take another step, but other than grazing his palm to catch himself the Human achieved nothing more than a short stumble. The adrenaline had long since faded, leaving behind little of anything. Stopping was probably the worst thing he could have done but…
What was he trying for anyway? To go back to the Citadel where almost no one knew him and those who did saw him as a threat. Or a problem. The three exceptions were busy with their lives and families, not that he considered even them more than amiable acquaintances. Except one but even she.. She’d be fine. His family was dead. Friends, dead. Future, dead. Just a lone mercanary trying to survive for the sake of surviving.
Cole leaned slowly against the wall, turning to lay his back against it and slowly lowering himself down. A streak of blood and slight clittering of the blade sticking out of him against the wall, followed the movement.
What was surviving when there was nothing to live for?
He opened his eyes, the icy blue glistening behind tears as he stared ahead at the street before turning up to the stars. It was hard to see them, but it was a good view to have. Cole blinked to clear his vision, still finding difficulty but starting to look for constellations. He knew them well enough, and it’d be good to know where home was.
He really was just out for a walk.
It wasn’t a patrol, for once, as the kids liked to call it when he went roaming the rooftops in the middle of the night, anxious over the citizenry and all the people in his care, watching for– anything really. Leda pointed out he wore a cape with his robes, and then would end up trying to explain to Melissa the comics reference she didn’t get. Cora would kiss his cheek and call him his hero while Noga rolled his eyes or glared, and Ruka would blush until his cheeks stopped burning on their own, noticing how quietly Siva looked at him with perfect understanding.
- But this was just a walk. He wasn’t even dressed, having pulled on a hoodie and pants and slipped out as gently as possible, murmuring with a nuzzle for his husband to go back to sleep; no, he hadn’t had any nightmares, or a vision. He was just…restless.
Yeah, right.
Ruka shook his head at himself, perching in a crouch atop one parapet of the wall that divided the Huscar and Sinchi Rings, humid, heavy breeze not strong enough to whip his hood back. It was too muggily hot down here, compared to up on the Citadel’s uppermost spires, but he had no desire to take the extra layer off and bare any skin. He’d mostly just been strolling the roofs and jumping between buildings, people watching where possible, gazing up at the lovely lady moon and stars when not, or out at the blue-black of the ocean horizon.
His summit guards followed him on foot, but after over a year as their Proconsul, they didn’t grumble running after him anymore. In fact, he’d overheard chatter on more than one occasion that the DDF branch assigned to the summit and the Citadel called rotations with him Leg Day– something about cardio and not skipping it. There seemed to be a general air of sportsmanship about it now; they’d gone from trading it around as hazing the junior guardsmen to competing with each other for who could keep up with him best. One of the women with him tonight, Aniya, a Selenian, had told him she’d run track in school like it was a qualification. She was one of his most frequent protectors now, and had even started dropping the honorifics, thank kriff. The other, Mat'te, only said “Scion, sir.”
Violet eyes shifted from one star to another, then back down to the whole of Sinchi district some couple hundred something feet below him. The pair waited down there, knowing better than to climb all the stairs or take the lift up here to the top of the wall when he’d probably just jump down soon. Even Aniya hated that many stairs.
- But he still hadn’t jumped down. Hadn’t continued his walk that wasn’t really just a walk. It felt…not right.
He’d woken up to his skin prickling, the way it did when bombs went off in the distance, on Nancora, on Dandoran, on Lyra Colony, Arx, Selen. It wasn’t immediate danger, but it was.
Something. Somewhere. Someone.
The Mirialan sighed, rubbing at his face, his eyes. He was tired, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. The anxiousness had his heart up in his chest.
-
That’s blood.
He skids to a stop, backs up, spies a trail. And not a damn block up the street, that trail stops at a body slumped against the wall of a garage, head lolled back.
Ruka darts over, dropping to his knees, cursing his lack of good lighting. The street lamps only do so much and it sure as frang isn’t medical grade. His lightsaber is at home.
“Hey, hey, ay,” his voice comes out soothing, low, not even winded. He’s crooning. “You’re okay, ay, hang on, I got you, I’ve got–” his hands hover, spying a knife lodged in the man’s side, kriff, “I got you, hold on, just some pressure yeah? Gotta touch you now…”
He’s taking off his hoodie, and the humid air sticks to his already sweaty chest. If only he’d put a damn shirt on when he woke up, he’d have more goddamn packing for the wound. As it was, he just tried real hard not to make it worse as he tied the thing around the guy’s waist, using the sleeves to knot it and hold the freaking dagger still, frang.
Don’t think about it, don’t, he chants in his head and looks up to try and see if they’re even awake and can hold his gaze and–
“Farrow?!” the Mirialan gasped, and then, “Kriff!” and then, “Kriff, what the hell happened, hang on, okay, we’re getting help.”
He calls the guards again, and Mat'te tells him they’re tracking his comm and are three kliks away, which would mean more if after five franging years around soldiers he was any better about figuring out how far away that was on the fly. Is it close enough? It doesn’t feel it. And they’re only basic medical certified. Cole has a knife in him and is sitting in a pool of blood. He needs a goddamn hospital, a healer.
Now.
“Farrow, ay, you hear me? I’m gonna take you to the med center. I’m gonna carry you. I’m sorry but it’s probably fastest right now, ay. Just stay awake for me.”
Cole barely noticed the presence at first. At some point he’d closed his eyes, in too much pain to pass out. Too much adrenaline maybe. Too stubborn. There was a voice but it could have been any voice. None of the words processed. He was sluggish, dizzy. Even with his eyes closed it felt like the world was swaying.
Then pain started anew.
His eyes snapped open, hissing through his teeth and resisting the urge to shove. Shove away what was causing the pain but the pain had brought things into focus. There was pressure on around the wound now. Both, though he doubted the person knew it. They were saying his name. He got his senses together to look up recognise the scarred green visage hovering over him.
“Ya-ir?” Cole’s voice cracked, grimacing after. Of all the kriffing people who could have found him- For karks sake.
He almost wanted to protest being carried. By any means, it was something he hated. Ruka specifically doing it was worse. But dammit he was tired. The aches and pains went beyond the flesh. So Cole acqueised, looking down and away from the concerned gaze and simply nodding to the notion of staying awake. He couldn’t finding any words that were worth saying. It’d be easier to answer the question of what had happened later.
…If there was a later.
Looking down, the pool of blood beneath him seemed a lot worse than he thought it was. The notion didn’t bother him as much as it should have.
But it did note him to another thing he felt was worth mentioning once he thought of it, “Got stabbed in the back, not just front. Probably… Probably got a concussion too.”
“Diozes san Bogan,” the Mirialan swore at the information, glad the man was still able to speak, had opened his eyes, but ALSO, “Ay, shh, save your strength, don’t try to talk no more. I got you. Hold on.”
With his hoodie already soaking up blood and tight around the abdominal wound, there wasn’t a lot to go around for Cole’s back. And kriff, that hand looked broken, if not crushed; and he knew from experience how slow healing that would have to go, needing surgery to set all the pieces first. His legs bore several vertical scars from as much, after Dandoran…
But right now, the bleeding was more important.
The Human didn’t have a jacket on, so it was his shirt, one of their pants, or nothing. With the Dark Side bracing his muscles, it wasn’t too hard to grip one of his pantlegs at the thigh and rip. The trickier part was ripping the new tube of fabric open long ways to actually make something that could cross his chest, but he managed, and gently shifted Cole off of the wall, guiding the man’s forehead to brace against his shoulder so that he could reach around his back and wrap it. There wasn’t time to consider either of their comfort with the situation; Cole’s skin was worryingly clammy-cool. At least it wasn’t dry yet. He knew enough to know that was worse.
“Alright, up on three, ay. Ready? One, two, three.” The Mirialan slipped his arm under Farrow’s knees, the other bracing his back and bound shoulder, painstakingly careful of the knife that wobbled despite best efforts, facing away from them. “Sorry, I’m sorry, just hang on. We’re gonna go now, okay? Don’t worry. It’ll be like. Be like flying.”
Cole did his best to work with Ruka though kriff. Was.. Did Ruka just tear off his own pant leg- Yep. Well. That was something he didn’t expect. Though the fact the surprise stuck around as more than a momentary thought was… definitely a reflection of the situation. It that really the only damn thing I can focus on right now?
It was torn away as he was lifted, Cole hissing through his teeth but he did put the effort in to grip onto Ruka. It wasn’t a strong grip. In fact Cole.. barely felt like he was gripping at all really but he did the best he could to not be entirely useless. Not here. Not-
kriffing kark shitting she-akks-
Flying?
Ruka was not a shuttle, this was not reassuring to the Human. He tensed in preparation for it, though from the slight spike of pain he wasn’t sure it was the best idea.
With that one warning as Cole tensed, Ruka drew deep of the Dark again and leapt for the rooftops once more, mindful to gentle every landing to near-nothing with a small telekinetic push. He propelled them through the night in these soaring arcs, the stars blurring above them, the streets swimming below. In just a handful of bounds this way, they were up the plateau, and then across it and into the Citadel courtyard, the guardsmen starting to raise some alarm before they realized it was their unusually almost-naked Proconsul doing his usual thing of dropping out of the sky at random times.
But this time he had wounded.
“Alert medical!” the man barked at his people, amplified voice ringing clear across the gardens and up the walls. He dashed inside, leaving behind the kicked hive of activity in his wake to swift silence, save for the staccato of his supernaturally fast footfalls. The doors of the west wing medbay were invisibly opened before them with just a glance, and Ruka ushered Farrow in, calling out for aid and rattling off injuries.
Under the bright white bath of sterile glowbanks, Cole looked much worse. Purpling bruises swelled his jaw, disappearing under his clothing. His makeshift bandages were wet, and he was pale as milk and shaking.
The doctors of the Citadel were quick, and moreover, used to random emergencies on a 25-hour, five day a week basis. There was a stretcher hovering there in seconds, and the night shift already swarming with an efficiency that took the man out of his arms and gently but firmly shuttled the Mirialan out of their way before he could blink.
- “My Lord,” a nurse asked urgently, and at least he didn’t cringe full body anymore, “are you hurt?”
Ruka realized they were looking at the blood on him and has generally ripped up and unclothed state. The cold of the hospital air suddenly seemed freezing. He shook his head and crossed his arms over his exposed chest, hugging himself and feeling every single scar like it was a live wire. “No, ay, I’m fine. It’s not mine. If you need anything for him– blood or whatever – I’m here. Who’s healing on staff right now?” He didn’t think Atyiru – gah – was scheduled tonight, was probably on Ol'Val, but he knew way better than to expect her to be anywhere expected at literally any time. He had nightmares of her under their bed, marrying carpet fuzz to carpet fuzz. But she was the best in probably the damn Galaxy. “Is Lady Arconae here?”
“No, my Lord. Shall we summon her?”
He gnawed his lip.
“Call my husband. And get me Cole Farrow’s emergency contacts, I’ll call them.” They moved to do as ordered. He dug his comm out and called poor Aniya and Mat'te, informing them of his arrival and describing the spot where he’d found Cole. “Sweep the area, I’m sending a security team too. There could be more wounded, victims or attackers. Farrow’s hand looks broke. He might have fought someone off. Tell me as soon as you find anything.”
After that it was calls to the security team, calls to Bly, to the port authorities to order a lockdown. He messaged Qyreia, not wanting to wake baby Ileta with a call. He debated telling Zuza, given their history. But…he’d at least ask Cole first, if she wasn’t his contact.
Cole survived the “flight”.
Maybe if he wasn’t bleeding from two places he’d have felt better but either way the Human decided that was something he never wanted to have happen ever again. Ever.
He gave no protest, wincing under the sterile light as the pain in his head reacted to the sharp stimulation. There was conflict. So much going on. People touching. But he didn’t have the energy or strength to do much more than control himself and try to stem the growing panic until he passed out. The blackening corners of his vision at least gave him hope that that would be soon.
Missus Sofila “Sagitta” Snugglemuffin Douve Armis Farrow
Sitting in a chair outside the operating room into which doctors had disappeared with a harried but awake Cora, Ruka grimaced, eyes narrowing to slits.
Yeah, right. Goddammit, Atyiru…
They did have a Sagitta on their roster now with the Voidbreaker II, just like Farrow, but none of the other bits were listed. He was still going to have to ask Farrow if the guy even knew who the hell this woman was or if he knew he was legally married under the eyes of the Dajorran Confederacy. He doubted it. Farrow, married? As far as Ruka knew, the Human barely spoke to anyone, was constantly suspicious and stand-offish, and had rejected anything shaped like help on every mission they’d both been on. His record was spotless save the arresting incident from when he crashed on in to the ice cream social two years ago, but damned if he’d heard anything about making friends. The rest of his contact list was sterile and blank. None of his lower summit reported anything of him making social or community advances. His psych evals were…about what one could expect of anyone in the damn Brotherhood.
The Mirialan sighed, messaging Qyreia again for sometime after dawn.
Reset the DaysSince We Had to do a. anulmennt Counter.
At least Corazon had brought him more clothes. A shower had been in order. They’d taken samples of the blood on Cole’s knuckles, and expected it to match that of the body his guards had found on the street. They were still looking for any other suspects around the scene of the crime just in case, to go with the knife currently being removed.
So much for just a walk.
With another sigh, Ruka settled into a meditative pose and set to waiting. If no one else was coming, then he would be there when Farrow woke up.
It was well into the next day before he stirred again. They’d moved him into a recovery room once they had done the surgery on his hand so it wouldn’t heal incorrectly. It was heavily bandaged, but between the efforts of the surgeons and Cora he would return to full health before all too long.
The hospital gown did little to cover up the fact he was covered in scars. It was obvious really, from how bad his hands and face were but the Farrow rarely showed up in anything less than full coverage. With his arms and part of his chest fully uncovered, it was clear enough the scars weren’t localised.
The painkiller cocktail they put him on suppressed the worst of everything, including the nightmares that often plagued the man. Thankfully the psych evaluations were just some doctor asking questions so that wasn’t known to every kriffin’ one. They were still present, but blood loss and drugs made them barely discernable in the lack of consciousness, never mind able to do more than make him restless. As if that was new.
When Cole finally awoke it was still quite a sudden awakening. He inhaled sharply, on instinct moving. It was too bright, everything hurt.
Kriff everything- Something was in his arm. Cole yanked, shifting in the bed and feeling the wounds strain and barely pausing half way to trying to get up to actually look around. His eyes weren’t focussing though and the panic was about to set in when he spotted Ruka who was already on his feet, hands raised placatingly.
“Calm down, sit back, you’re safe ay?”
Cole didn’t sit back, but he didn’t move any further either.
“Hey, now, hey, that’s good, good job,” the Mirialan continued to encourage, eyeing how the heart monitors blitzed and the way Farrow looked around, tense like he was about to bolt or fight. Panic wasn’t exactly new to the Proconsul. Not on himself, not on other people, and…not even on Cole.
He kept the grimace off his face at the guilty memory of that horrible disaster of an idea they’d had for training. Kept his expression friendly, relaxed. Spoke soft.
“Farrow– Cole, hey, it’s me, R…Ya-ir. You’re safe. You’re in the med center, at the Citadel. You’re in recovery. You had surgery, but you’ve been healed. You’re okay. You’re safe.”
He lowered his hands, sticking them in his hoodie pockets instead and leaning back, not moving closer. Debating what information Farrow might want or find more solid than blind panic and painkillers, he went for clinical, like the man usually was, in his experience, adding in some warnings.
“Your hand is still in a cast, and it needs to stay that way a little longer, so that’s why it’s heavy, don’t move it too much. You’re not tied up or nothing. There’s an IV in your arm, it’s painkillers and stuff. You’re connected to a vitals monitor.” Still his tone was similar to talking to the kids after a nightmare. “You had a concussion, got stabbed in two places, some other stuff. But we got you healed up. You’re safe. You can rest. I’m not gonna leave you alone. Ay?”
Cole watched him throughout the small speech. It was grounding, in that it matched the scattered recollections he still had from the night before. Or… he hoped was the night before. Probably if he was still this roughed up. It made sense. Something else didn’t.
Why was Ruka talking like that? The tone. That was new. Almost akin to talking to spooked animal but at the same time not at all? It was more closely reminiscent to how Sagitta spoke to him after the first time he had a night terror around her. He’d assumed that was a her thing…
The Human brushed that aside, letting out a slow exhale and settling back into the bed. He didn’t lay back fully, but he was distinctly in bed once more and not primed to hop out.
“Right. Kriff.” Cole’s voice was hoarse, he did his best to clear it, “How long was I out? I remember arriving. I think. It was dark still then.”
Ruka blew out a breath at the Human actually staying in his bed, unlike some Zuzas, and turned enough to grab the chair he’d been in. The one beside it was empty now save for Ruka’s stack of datapads, though Cora had been in it a earlier in the day, before school time. The Pantoran’s lilac cardigan remained draped over the back, jeweled buttons glinting in the bit of light cast from the cracked open refresher door serving as a night light. Ruka had turned the overheads off, but not wanted to leave the room in darkness whenever Cole awoke.
He carried the chair over, not wanting to spook the man moving it telekinetically or dragging it across the floor and getting a squeal on tile.
“It’s been,” he checked his Chrono as he sat, not actually sure himself anymore, “fift, four…uh…six, sixteen hours. Yeah. We got here about 0300, and you were in surgery for like, four hours. Woulda been way more, but y'know…the Force. They mostly had to put your hand back together.” He did frown then, and lifted one of his pantlegs, displaying not just tattoos and various scars but specifically pointing to the surgical ones. “Trust me on this, take it easy. You don’t wanna deal with having to rebreak it and then being laid up even longer. It sucks.”
“It does.” Cole agreed, looking over the cast but otherwise not doing much to move the arm. “It’s not my first time. Though that is why it would have broken so badly. I overdid it really..”
He raised the other hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. Kriff. Sixteen hours. It explained why he felt so awful but at least he hadn’t ended up in a coma and lost a week. Or spent days sat in a bacta tank. The tiredness set in again, but it was of the body and not the mind so he was stuck awake despite feeling like absolutely she-akk piss. At least Ruka wasn’t.. Well. No. Ruka was still probably one of the worst options. One. Not that there were any good options he’d actually want to see while like this. But Ruka was talking to him like an associate. It was enough he could handle it despite the distaste.
The hollowness bore open once more. Not too dissimilar than it had the night before. He crammed it shut. Later.
“There was three of them. I killed the one, though you probably know that, but there two others who left. I broke one’s ribs, though I’m not sure to what extent in terms of how his injuries would look now. The other I managed to stab in the thigh. In terms of major injuries. I.. don’t recall their faces enough to describe them but I’d recognise them. All Human. All male. At least one of them knew me from before.”
The sudden shift to more serious business the Proconsul had been intending to question Farrow about later wasn’t surprising, exactly, but it did make him sit up straighter and cross his arms, frowning. His brows furrowed and expression darkened, and he glanced over his shoulder, summoning a datapad to hand, seeing as–
“So we’re doing this now, ay,” he said, and started slowly typing what Cole had just told him. His one remaining ear heated, but he’d had to get used to people reading over things he wrote and editing them into something smarter for later as the Proconsul. “By from before, you mean like Zuza? You wanna tell me what that includes? Cause we both know I dunno you, but if somebody’s coming here into our territory to murder you, it might be time to talk.” He paused, looking up. “And yeah, we found the body. Search is one for the other two. Spaceport and trams out of the city are locked down but there’s still the jungle and coast. Those details help. I’ll tell everyone.”
“You were going to wait?” Cole questioned, the confusion visible and genuine on the Human’s face for a moment before it disappeared.
“Not Zuza specifically. Just.. before I came here.” He answered, surprised that Ruka.. hadn’t looked into it. He had assumed Marick would have made mention of things at least. “My family ran.. well you’d call it a gang but it was more professional than that. We had territory. We had enemies, allies. One the three.. he said something about it being over…” Cole trailed off, trying to recollect what was said for a few moments before it came back to him, “He said ‘You’ll pay for what you did to his pa Farrow.’. Though I doubt they were intentionally hunting me with only a knife if they knew who I was. Never mind the fact that everyone from home thinks I’m dead. If I had to guess it was a by chance kark up in getting recognised.”
He cleared his throat again, grimacing, but glancing to Ruka as he waited for whatever questions were about to be come.
The Mirialan did not look any happier as soon as gangs came up. His expression was black, and he bent it down over his datapad and typed dumb and slow.
Eventually, he broke the quiet of the hospital noise with, “So you think that these three Humans just happened to be here on Selen,” his stress on the planet implied everything from Dajorra’s remote location right next to the Maw, chosen specifically as settling grounds for that deadly navigational reason, to the relative lack of bustling galactic tourism, “and just, what, saw you at the bar? Followed you out? Maybe everyone back home ain’t think you actually so dead. Maybe they thought you’d be weaker if you was supposed to be. You been here for two years, Cole. We’ve been to Tattooine, and other places. You found Zuza in the first place, didn’t you? How likely is it really that somebody ain’t found you and looking for you?”
His tone was far gone from gentle. It was hard now, challenging and. And angry. Ruka swore to himself and sat back, datapad drooping while he rubbed at his face.
“I’m sorry. I’m gettin’ mad with you but that ain’t fair. It’s my shit. You been attacked when you’re supposed to be safe here. So.” His hand fell, and violet eyes met cold blue. “Help me figure how I can make it safer for you. You gonna tolerate a guard? Tell your crew what’s going on? Or you gonna make me do it?”
“I wasn’t looking for Zuza. I wasn’t even planning to come here.”
Any ease that may have had immediately sapped away from Cole. There was a lack of energy to really sit up or do anything else that would be better than being stuck laying down. But there was tension there, preparation to spring if needed but little else.
“It’s not like my home was exactly in the middle of a tourist hot spot either. Like you just said, it has been two years. If they wanted to track me down and finish the job they would have done it a little bit sooner to when they killed everyone else.” He clenched his jaw for a moment, ignoring the sting as he maintained eye contact with Ruka. “Nor would they have lied to everyone about the fact I was dead in the first place. They blamed my body being missing on some.. kriff. It was stupid. They knew. We could tell the crew, I thought Sulvir would know already anyway; But no, I won’t tolerate having someone watching my every move more than they already are. Thanks.”
There was venom to his tone by the end and he finally looked away and released a breath. He did his best to steady himself, even as his vision narrowed. The heart monitor was beeping faster. Cole glared at it.
“Alright, ay,” Ruka warned, aiming for something calmer, or at least sympathetic. “Let’s not stress you into a coma, here. Sulvir doesn’t know because I ain’t told him yet. I told Qyreia, and I told Tali, so they’d be aware as your chain of command, but I’m not here to throw your privacy out the kriffin’ window. You–”
He stopped. Sighed. Swallowed everything he’d been about to say to a man barely out of critical surgery.
“Look. We can talk more about it later– who these people are, or might be, next steps. Yeah, I was gonna wait, you need to rest. So. Can I get you anything?” The Mirialan gestured vaguely around them. “You want the lights on? Another blanket? Some ice chips?” His fingers flicked, calling over a second hoodie from the chair that held Cora’s sweater. He offered it the Human’s direction. “Here. Don’t think our sizes are that different. Figured you’d wanna cover up.”
“Cover up?” Cole frowned, confused before sighing, not relaxing but he at least dropped the tone from before. It was effort to do so, but he did. If Ruka was right about one thing, it was that he needed rest. Not that he hadn’t given debriefings from a med-bay bed before, but still.
He considered the offer, still.. not really understanding the hoodie part of it but actually answering the question. Ruka just.. did strange things apparently. Maybe it was a Mirialan thing.
“Lights on, I guess. And.. Well. If someone could get my stuff- If that’s a thing I can ask for? It’s in my hotel room still. I’m meant to be signed out of there by tomorrow morning latest. It’s just a backpack but has my guns in it.” He paused. It had almost everything he owned bar some clothes in it. Cole shifted slightly in place, uncomfortable. Embarrassed, almost. It was a necessary ask, but it agitated him. “I know you can’t bring it here. Just somewhere I can get it, the Voidbreaker or in a locker somewhere in the citadel.”
Ruka’s brows furrowed again, their thick, scar-broken, deep divot. He set the hoodie on the bed when the Human didn’t take it and staring at Cole for a moment before his features softened, though the tightness never left his eyes.
His Dad Voice was back as he carefully advised, “Listen, Fa– Cole. You can ask for anything you want. You’re not in trouble. You can have your backpack, you can even have it here long as you aren’t waving you guns around, which I don’t think you’ll do. Let me know the hotel and I’ll send somebody.” He glanced over at the door, then warned softly, “Lights in three, two, one…” before the switch flipped, the room blooming into brightness. “Anything else?”
“I wouldn’t.” Cole confirmed, giving the name of the hotel after. “My room key will be with my clothes, I should imagine. You’d have a better idea than me.”
The lights made him wince but being able to see the room properly was preferable even despite the ache in his head.
“No thank you. That’s all I can think of.” There was a moment of hesistation, his eyes holding suspicion, confusion. His brow furrowed before he added on, “What is that voice you’re doing?” He wasn’t sure if it was something that he should feel like he was being pitied over or mocked or.. what. It didn’t seem like any of those.
Amethyst eyes blinked at the question, surprised this time, and then a mild muddy flush rose on the slim patches of green cheeks that weren’t scar tissue. Ruka sat up a little straighter, lifting a palm out apologetically.
“Oh, ay, sorry, I can st-op,” he coughed, clearing his throat and trying to actually make his voice do a certain thing, which was a lot harder when he was actually paying attention to it. “I uh, wasn’t doing anything really, it’s just–” a sigh, “people say I have a ‘Dad Voice?’ I’m just worried about you, Cole, and…worried that you think you can’t ask for anything, and that you don’t feel safe here, I’m pretty sure. I know I got a bad habit of takin’ the blame for things but I’m pretty sure at least one of those is my fault, and just…” His tone softened again without his permission. “You can ask, for stuff. We want you to be okay, ay, we’re here to help. So like, if you want a freaking holo or something to read, or a game pad, or…I dunno, whatever you like for fun, so you’re not just bored in here or going crazy stuck resting, like, that’s okay.”
Worry. Okay. Dad voice? Weird but if that what they called it then.. sure. At least it meant.. concern. Even if it was stranger still that Ruka was concerned for him. Cole took it in stride, nodding to the information.
It made sense. He hadn’t done anything wrong. Kriff, what he’d done the previous night in killing that man was as much self defence than anything. Maybe not.. the actual killing part but somehow he doubted anyone would actually blame him for it. If they were going to, he probably would have heard already. But then again Ruka hadn’t even intended to ask him what had happened already.
“Uh..” He hadn’t thought about activities. Though he supposed he’d have his datapad before all too long, with something to read on it, the mention of a holo did bring up the reminder of a holofilm Sagitta showed it. She’d said there were others. “I’ll have my data soon but if you can get me a holo I.. I’d appreciate that.”
The tension remained, but he was as unsure about how to handle the conversation as it seemed Ruka was.
“Sure,” Ruka replied immediately, pulling out his comm so he could call for the backpack and holo. And some ice chips and broth and crackers. Maybe Cole would eat if it was nearby and available.“What holo?”
Oh. Right. He didn’t actually own one, but needing specific ones made sense. Somewhat. Hed have to look at Sagitta’s the next time and actually see how it all worked for future reference.
“A holoplayer? Do they all have the sames ones on them or do you need specific requests? I only know the Spirited Away one really, if there’s one with those on it?”
“Uh,” the Mirialan paused at this, not having expected to need to cover file access. It wasn’t exactly his best area either. The kids worked their datapads better than he did. “Well, if you don’t have the specific one in your library thing you can probably find it on the holonet…I figured I’d just ask someone in the tech department to get it for you… You said–” and then another pause, violet eyes widening in recognition and surprise. “Wait, ay, Spirited Away? I have that. I mean, I ain’t watched it, but I still got ‘em all from– you know Eilen, right? Worked with her? She was my first apprentice, arrarrmia. Castle in the Sky is her favorite holo, so I learned the tracks on guitar to play her. I can just grab you our player.”
“I’ve seen her around.” Cole confirmed, nodding slightly.
Their player? It made sense if he knew those ones were already on it, though it felt odd he’d offer something like that. The wheels turned in his head for a moment. Uncomfortable. It took another before he responded, deciding to try and not think on it too much. If there was some hidden price, itd be minor at worst surely. And ruka had already saved his life. Kriff. Overthinking it.
“I would appreciate that.”
“Aight. Lemme just make a few calls. Be right outside,” Ruka assured, rising from his chair. He detoured to turn the refresher light off, a twitch to his eye, and then slipped through the door, stepping out into the hall. True to his word, he didn’t go far; his green visage was visible through the gap, and he spoke into his communicator. Other noises of the medical wing filtered through.
Cole kept an eye on the flciker of green through the door but took the moment to just deescalate how stressed hed gotten. It wasn’t healthy. So as he sat there, Cole forced himself to breathe. Properly. He couldn’t do much while in hospital other than heal up. So that should be the focus.
His gaze flickered across the room. There was a jacket that.. from memory likely belonged to Ruka’s husband. With the door open the generic noise from a busy hospital made it feel less empty but-
He frowned, looking away from the wall and instead investigating his injuries. There wasn’t anyone there but it wasn’t a surprise. But the hollow gap that his grief usually filled much more quietly had bore open like a fresh wound. Hed almost died. And all he had was his boss. Not his father, not his brother. Not even a familiar face because despite his relationship with Sagitta, even if he had her contact, she had a family to worry about. Her own issues. He couldn’t drag her from that just for…
He blinked forcibly, tracing over where he should have had bandages. Must have been healed with the Force, the Human starkly remembering being slashed across the back of his arms but there wasn’t even a mark.
Cora, perhaps. Itd.. make sense as to why Ruka brought his husband with him at all.
The Human continued the quiet checking of himself, waiting for Ruka to return and doing his best to not get lost in thought in the mean time
“…ay, ne zeciae csza vatrenimata,” Ruka’s voice eventually filtered through the opening as he began to speak louder, his native language now instead of the faintest snatches of Basic that had presumably been giving orders about Cole’s belongings. The Mirialan paced closer. “Creo– ne, mhin amihnaa. N– Corazonmi–”
Another pause, violet eyes rolling and then his hand was covering the comm pressed to his ear as he leaned inside the room again, clearly looking at the Human.
“Yes or no on popcorn, Cole?” he asked, looking put upon, but not that upset about it.
Cole looked up, frowning for a small moment before it cleared, the query processing as genuine and unsteadily responding-
“I don’t know if I’m allowed solids but if I am.. sure?”
It.. was a distraction. A very.. random one. And he guessed that Ruka was more likely to know if he was allowed solids or not. He hadn’t exactly spoken to a nurse yet about what exactly had been damaged.
The Mirialan nodded once back at him and replied with as much into his comm, giving a general thumbs up to Cole about the allowance of food; Force healing worked wonders that way, allowing the body to tolerate what it shouldn’t, recover from near death.
Ruka finished his call in a few more minutes, in which time someone in uniform came and spoke to him. They talked awhile longer, and then another uniformed person delivered a familiar sight: his backpack.
The Mirialan dismissed both after a few more moments and then stepped back into the room, holding up the bag and offering it to the Human.
“With you or…?”
Ah okay, eating was fine. That if nothing else confirmed that they’d used the Force. It made sense, he’d been close to death before and he could pick out the symptoms of it from what memory remained of him arriving at the hospital.
“Please.” Cole shifted to sit up a little straighter.
He wouldn’t keep it in arms reach, the last thing he needed was to kriffing shoot someone by accident rather than just hopping out of bed, but he wanted to make sure everything was present.
Passing the backpack into the man’s hands, Ruka was mindful of the IV before he let any weight down.
And even then, if Cole was paying close attention, he might notice the bag seemed lighter in his arms than it ought have been, as if, say, the smallest telekinetic force was holding it up. Just a bit.
The Mirialan resumed his seat beside the bed, and went back to his datapad, quietly reading in a manner that seemed like it was meant as don’t mind me, I’m not even here.
Cole’s mind did not reach the conclusion that there was the Force involved and in concern of something being missing the Human ended up going through the entire bag. The only thing he didn’t withdraw out were the actual weapons, though he did muss around and make sure nothing had been tampered with or removed entirely. All the ammunition was in there. The change of clothes. Data pad. Comlink. Scanpulse.
No. It was all there. Even the two pieces of paper tucked into one of the pockets. Cole did peer in, making sure that the pocket was actually still protecting the photo and note before putting anything he’d taken out back into it. It still felt too light, but he was confident it was all there. Weird.
The only thing he left out was his own datapad, placing it in his lap before leaning slightly to place the backpack on the floor beside the bed.
Icy eyes flicked over Ruka. Was he really.. going to stay? Cole wasn’t sure how to feel about the possibility the answer to that question was yes. But it did occur to him for one thing, while the Proconsul was present.
“Thank you for getting me here. I owe you my life, really.” His voice was even, stating a fact even though he doubted Ruka was the type to accept such debts being owed to him. Whether or not he did though… It was true.
Ruka’s eyes shot up from his datapad as Cole began to speak, and then widened in surprise. And just as quickly, that muddy red was staining ear and cheeks again, and he started to shake his head before stopping. His face pinched, sort of like he was doing something physically painful.
“You’re– ay, you’re…wel-welcome,” the Mirialan managed, and then, once that was done, went on much more quickly in that Dad Voice, “but you ain’t owe nothin’, Cole. Seriously. You seem like one of the kinds that’s gonna mean that literally or some kriff, so– it’s fine. I’m just glad you okay. We coulda lost you.” He exhaled heavily. “Vagri esqayn Bogan ey Ashla, ay. Thank the Gods. If the Force hadn’t guided me to you…”
Another shake of the head.
“Ay, ain’t think on that kriff. You safe now.”
“Usually but I won’t press it on someone who’s not interested.” Cole spoke, nodding slightly.
If it hadn’t. Well. He’d have died.
Sagitta told him he wasn’t alone. Ruka said he was safe.
He didn’t particularly feel like eihter was true. Maybe in this particular moment but… Kriff. Not the time. Not right now.
He was just grateful that he didn’t actually owe Ruka a life debt.
The Mirialan looked relieved, at least, at the acceptance of no debts. He’d had enough insistence of as much in his life since becoming Proconsul.
With that said, Ruka turned back to his pad. It was quiet again, at least until there came a rap-tap of a knock at the open door, and an airily formal, primly accented voice called out, “Hello, dears, may we come in?”
A familiar blue face peeked around, smiling politely, but not crossing the boundary just yet.
Cole looked up sharply initially, before relaxing. Right.
We?
“Yeah.” He responded, glancing to Ruka who was already here, a little confused by the wording.
Ruka just shrugged one shoulder at him, but stood up from his chair and stepped over to greet his husband, opening the door for him with a flick of his fingers. As the barrier swung inward, two more figures were revealed on either side of the petite Pantoran, one just below his eye level, the other already over it.
Noga and Leda had grown quite a bit since the party where Cole Farrow had first come to Selen, and not only in the leaps and bounds of adolescent height; both had more tattoos on their faces, some, a perceptive observer might note, that matched some of both their parents. Noga was bearing three stacked glass containers of popcorn and a concentratedly bored expression, though his dark blue eyes peered all around the room and then over Cole intently. Leda, on the other hand, was staring right at the Human she’d confronted back then, pale navy gaze pinned on him. She touched her curly hair with one hand, brushing over a tattooed ear, a nervous gesture, while the other arm clutched blankets to her chest.
Corazon leaned up to kiss his husband’s cheek, beaming as he ushered in. The bright medcenter lights washed his pastel pallet out somewhat, but he was still arguably beautiful as he approached the bed and stopped a foot or two away with a soft look of concern on his poised features.
“Mister Farrow,” he greeted, smiling also for the man, mindful not to use Lord or Master as once requested. “How are you feeling? Any pain? I understand you may be leery of staying very long here, or much medication – you would not be the first rather shall we say, understandably difficult patient we’ve known – so I’ve taken a sojourn myself while you slept, and I ought to be up to the task of another healing session posthaste, should you like.”
Cole glanced over the two teens. They’d grown a lot, but it’d been two years since the girl… Leda? had stepped in front of Zuza at the party. From the staring, he guessed that was on her mind currently as well. Not.. much he could do about that. His actions were stupid that day. Beyond stupid really. But it wasn’t something he could take back nor something he’d sat regretting. Anyone would have struggled to think clear on a day like that. Knowing that himself was enough for Cole. The boy was almost trying too hard to appear bored, but they were both here. Which was.. suggestive of coercion from one of their parents at least. He really couldn’t imagine either of them wanting to be here. Noga, if he recalled correctly, hadn’t been as openly bothered by the events that day but that meant little.
The Human sat up a little straighter as Cora directly approached, instinct more than actual want.
“I’m as fine as I can be. The meds they have me on are working.” Cole confirmed, before shaking his head, “There’s no rush. Leery or not, I won’t be sneaking out of my bed or refusing care.” There was a tone to his voice as if he had once dealt with similar. “Thank you for healing me as you have already. I’m assuming you did at least, considering that I’m functional.”
Cole had paused there, eyes glancing down toward his arms that he’d identified as missing wounds before looking up again. “But if you’ve already tired yourself, even if you’ve rested, you don’t need to do more. Won’t be hard to get back out to Port Ol'Val when the doctors say I’m ready to travel. A few days doesn’t make any real difference to me.”
“Oh thank Ashla,” the Pantoran practically gasped, sagging a little like he might faint and pressing a manicured hand to his forehead as he glanced between Cole and Ruka. “We were worried you’d be as incorrigible as Zuza.”
“Ay, ay…” muttered all three Mirialans nearly at the same time, various levels of stress flashing across their faces.
“But it sounds as through you’re sympathetic too, which we appreciate. And yes, I healed you. You were…quite hurt, Cole. I am so very relieved to see you better now.” Corazon’s tone and demeanor, though calm and genuine, were threaded with fear. Like Ruka, he actually did seem relieved. “And please, no thanks are necessary, though you are very welcome. Now…I believe you wanted a movie and some popcorn? We’ve brought you both! And the option of company if you’d like it. Don’t worry, we aren’t going to insinuate ourselves uninvited. But we’d also be pleased to stay.”
“Papi said you alone,” suddenly Leda commented from her position by the door. She met his eyes, and for all she didn’t exude friendliness, her stare flinty, she lifted her chin as she spoke. “Ain’t nobody should be.”
Noga just nodded at her, making a gesture like the fingergun Zig used, pointing in agreement.
“Guys…” Ruka seemed torn, unsure if he should be apologizing and herding his family out for crowding the man or proud of them, but just waited for Cole’s decision.
Cole almost looked amused at the family’s vivid stress at Zuza dealing with medical treatment. Kriff, he knew that trial. He doubted commenting on the fact he could relate to the situation would help his situation though.
Something else bore through that confused the Human though. They were.. actually worried. From Leda’s words the kids hadn’t even been forced into comings, they wanted to just out of.. pity? It didn’t seem like pity but they had no reason to be worried for him. He wasn’t one of them, hell the only one he’d ever had a postive encounter with was Cora and that was just.. educational more than anything. Cole didn’t quite know how to process it which led to an awkward moment of him looking toward the family in silence before finding words.
Afterall it felt ridiculous to deny company because it wasn’t the company he wanted. Even if he didn’t understand why the kriff it was being offered. Even if as soon as he was out of hospital he’d be just as alone as he was yesterday. May as well enjoy it while it lasts.
“You can stay. You came all this way.”
“Cool,” Noga said, and tromped on over to hand him the medium-sized container of popcorn. The two larger ones seemed share-sized. “Figured you wouldn’t wanna share blue-green spit,” he added with a snort, and then looked around. “I'ma go find some more chairs.”
“Oh, paper towels, too, dear, I forgot linens!”
“Napkins, Dad, yeah,” the teen called back to Cora as he moved out the door. Leda stood a moment longer before lifting her chin and bringing over the blankets. She set the stack down in Ruka’s currently unused chair, revealing the holoplayer sandwiched in the folds, and tossed one blanket so it spread out over Cole’s bed without her touching him too much. Cora rounded the other side and immediately started fussing to smooth wrinkles. Pink brows rose at spying the hoodie still lying there.
“Oh, did it not fit you, Cole? My apologies, we thought you and Ruka would be about the same size…”
“Okay, comittee, don’t smother ‘im,” said Mirialan reminded gently, though he did drag the other chair over with Cora’s cardign still on it and parked it beside his. He leaned over and opened the player, starting to fiddle with it. “Ay, ay…where’d everything go?”
“Carr alphatized the library,” Leda commented, stepping away from Cole’s bedside to help. “It’s all still there, Papi, it’s just in order.”
“What order?”
“I dunno, he just said in order. I search for stuff.”
While the eldest struggled with grumbling over electronics, Noga returned with two more chairs and a crumpled fistful of paper towels. He spied the goings on and snorted yet again.
“Just scroll down. What are we watchin’, ay?” the boy looked to Cole.
Cole took the container, holding it as he overall remained quiet in the sudden surge of movement. He’d shifted slightly as Leda placed the blanket, trying to put space but there wasn’t anywhere to go. Espeically when Cora began smoothing it out. What the kriff- He was glad he didn’t have to answer Cora that while, yes, they were about the same size, he wasn’t keen to put on someone else’s clothing for no good reason. If anything he found it weirder that it had been offered.
“Spirited Away.” He said in response to Noga, suddenly a little self conscious. It was a good movie but Cole felt a little exposed for a moment. Unsure. He shook that off and looked over toward the struggle with the tablet, “It just means its sorted by what it’s first letter is. Alphabetical. So it’ll be toward the bottom.”
“Alpha*bet*ical,” Leda muttered to herself, while general noises of appreciation and revelation were made and going to the bottom seemed to happen. Cora squealed, having backed off a bit when he noticed Cole cringing ever so slightly.
“Oh, yes! That one is gorgeous, all of the film studio’s are, their art and animation– it’s breathtaking. I would love to study their artist’s styles… Oh, but don’t let me go on at movie time.”
The family didn’t need to chatter to arrange themselves, moving with a comfort and familiarity that was as alien to the Farrow as their saturated skin. The teens were parked beside each other, the parents doing the same, popcorn tubs balanced on chair arms precariously between them. Ruka sat nearest to Cole, while the children were settled further, and blankets got passed over to spread between them. The holoplayer floated up at the same time one of the rolling tray tables that could go over the hospital bed was pulled over telekinetically, stopping at the end of the bed; close enough to be seen, but not actually overly obstructing Cole’s legs. The player set down.
Noga moved to stand, but then Ruka said, “Keep the lights on, ay,” with a look to Cole that matched the Dad Voice he had used earlier. Noga shrugged and sat again, shoving popcorn into his mouth. His sister elbowed him viciously for the bowl that was obviously not going to last long, taking her own handfuls.
“Ready, dear?” Cora asked kindly, looking to the Human.
Icy eyes glanced over them as they settled into place. The only thing that he really recognised was the way Leda and Noga interacted, the elbowing specifically. That was familiar. He didn’t know how to feel about the rest but there was one thing.
Visibility of the door was also a nice bonus.
“Yeah.” Cole nodded to Cora, hesistantly grabbing the edge of the blanket and pulling it higher. It ruined the careful smoothing Cora had done but it was a blanket. Even if it was a strange situation.
“Lovely,” the Pantoran hummed, and then assured, “pause anytime or ask if you need anything at all, and if you fall asleep, it’s perfectly alright! One of us will be right here when you wake up, and we can always play it again.”
That said, he leaned forward and pressed Play, and the screen went dark before an orchestral opening began to rise.
The family settled in. And if sometimes their eyes strayed to Cole more than the movie, or to each other, or in Ruka’s case, often to the door, then, well. That was fine.
It’s not as if Cole’s eyes didn’t stray away from the movie. He’d already seen it once and while he was enjoying a rewatch, picking up on foreshadowing and secondary details, his gaze was just as often at the door.
Despite being physically tired, he didn’t let himself start to drift off, making his way through the popcorn slowly enough to have something to do to keep awake even as his body started to try and give in. As much as he needed it, as much as Cora’s reassurance had sounded very nice, Cole wasn’t keen to sleep currently. Not with strangers around. His rest was rarely peaceful and the last thing he wanted was them all twittering over him because of a kriffin nightmare. It was pitiful he had them, the amount of people that knew could remain as low as possible thank you very much.
Still, despite all of this, he did enjoy the movie once again though was left with less of an wonderous awe and something of a keening hole once the credits began to roll. The mask remained firmly in place.