Work Text:
A stim is injected into his side.
Cal grunts as the jolt of adrenaline shoots through him. BD-1 scuttles across his shoulder to hide on his back.
Mentally, Cal shoots him a thanks. But his mouth doesn't move, too preoccupied with the hulking mass of rubbery flesh that makes up Bogdo Oggdo.
He's sure that BD-1 understands; the droid is too busy holding on for dear life at Cal's violent dodging.
A tongue flies out of the frog's mouth and Cal is just one second too slow. It hooks around his outstretched arm, moving with a hunger that only a starving beast could understand, and then it pulls.
His arm is ripped forward, the bones bending farther than they should. A hoarse scream rips through the air, quickly followed by a terrified trill.
Cal digs his feet in the mud that he had just been cursing a minute ago as he fights to stay upright. It doesn't slow him much, but it gives him enough time to swing his lightsaber in the tongue's general direction.
The slimy tongue falls off his wrist; severed. But with its departure goes the momentum holding Cal upright.
He crashes backwards, the mud enveloping him in a sticky embrace. Cal’s heart stutters to a halt. Frozen, he breathes in the smell of wet earth and decaying bones. Desperately, BD-1 beeps an urging tune. Cal stands.
Apparently, he wasn't the only living thing stunned at the end of their interaction. Oggdo Bogdo had reared back at the loss of its favorite weapon, its pained croaks filling the cave.
Cal's training kicks in and he flings himself towards the frog. A well placed slash is all it takes for the creature to collapse to the ground, eyes empty of life.
“Finally,” Cal breathes. His strength takes its leave, and Cal plops himself down next to the corpse, lightsaber clicking into its rightful place. Soreness creeps in and Cal welcomes it.
Anything to prove he's still alive.
BD-1 whistles and offers Cal another stim. Dutifully, Cal reaches up and injects it into his neck.
He hates to waste the medicine, but he needs every body part working if he's going to make it back to the Mantis in one piece.
After a long moment of collecting his thoughts, BD-1 gently nudges his chin.
Cal laughs. “Alright, alright. I’m moving, I promise.”
BD-1 hops impatiently and Cal gets up. His muscles scream out and he swears his bones shouldn't creak the way they do at his age, but he stands regardless. His left arm burns, but Cal pointedly pushes the pain away.
One thing at a time.
Cal and BD-1 had trecked their way through Bogano’s caves in search of the many trinkets Master Cordova had left behind. Cal had been hoping to surprise Cere with the floral vase tucked safely inside one of Cordova’s hideaways.
The echo left on it had been impossible to ignore. A smaller Cere, clearly a padawan at the time, had taken a lump of clay and spent hours pressing it into the proper shape in hopes of her plant-loving Master approving. She then carefully painted the roses that adorned the side, hand shaking with every stroke. When she presented it to Cordova the next day, he’d been unable to say no.
Not that he would’ve. Every inch of the vase glowed at the adoration that Cordova had placed upon it. Carting it from one place to another, forever unable to leave it behind, had left it permanently stained a light brown. But it was worn with love.
Cal figured it would fit right in on the Mantis.
So he grabbed it and off he went.
Cal had fully intended to be back to the Mantis the prior hour, but as always, he managed to be sidetracked. It didn't help that BD-1 was encouraging it.
Thankfully, BD-1 seemed to realize that Cal was at the end of his rope. So they began their journey back.
Almost immediately, they spot stormtroopers. Cal spares a moment to mourn the loss of peace that the planet used to hold. He ignites his saber.
“Guess we're gonna be a little late.” He tells BD-1. The droid clutches onto his poncho and beeps determinedly. Together, they descend onto the unsuspecting troopers.
It's almost child's play, cutting through the stormtroopers’ armor like a knife through butter. The soldiers fall with a dull clatter and Cal leaps to the next group. They barely have a moment to cry out before Cal silences them.
As the area goes silent, Cal heaves, moving to place a tired hand on his hip. He yelps as his arm protests the movement.
Cal pauses to stare at the offending limb. It's difficult to see through the thick material of his shirt, but what he makes out isn't pretty. The bit of his wrist that is visible is littered with dark purple bruises.
Cal winces. “Must've pulled something earlier.”
BD-1 hops atop Cal’s head, clearly sensing he should avoid the arm. He shoots a blue beam of light down at Cal's left side and Cal laughs again.
“Don't worry buddy,” Cal reasures. He reaches up to pat the droid with his working arm. “Let's get out of here.”
Easier said than done, but Cal had been trying to keep a more optimistic outlook lately.
Faithful as ever, BD-1 climbs on to his back once more.
It takes a little longer for them to make it back to the surface of the planet.
Life is thickly imbued in every inch of the planet, vines crawling along every surface and creatures hiding beneath the dirt. Cal dodges multiple wide-eyed Boglings as he rushes across the dirt path.
The occasional Splox rolls towards him when he catches their eye, but they quickly ignore him as he moves along. It makes traversing the landscape much easier.
Unfortunately, not all the life forms on Bogano leave you alone as soon as you leave their line of sight.
“Intruder spotted!” A voice yells down at him before the familiar sound of a blaster descends on Cal's ears.
Cal curses as he blocks a volley of laser bolts. They ricochet across the gorge, scarring deep burns into the rock walls. More Stormtroopers poke their heads out of the cave entrance, force presence instantly becoming hostile.
He races up the path, saber spinning in a protective circle. The blaster fire stops suddenly and Cal looks up in time to make out the trooper heaving a rocket launcher over his shoulder. BD-1 beeps out a list of expletives that Cal can't help but agree with.
He barely has time to throw his body out of the way, reaching up to pull BD-1 towards his chest and curling over him protectively. The explosion knocks him off his feet.
It burns quick and hot, eating away at his clothing. Cal groans as he rolls over, ears ringing. BD-1's antenna bends back and Cal can see the concern in the droid's processor.
He shakes his head groggily and pulls himself to his feet, too aware of the stormtroopers reaiming. He slings BD-1 over his shoulder and they dart to the upper level.
Cal jumps onto the platform, taking a sick pleasure in the way the trooper trips over himself out of shock, his rocket launcher tilting him off balance. Cal is brutally efficient as he slices through the plastoid armor. He kicks the trooper’s body off the platform and launches himself to the next.
He blocks a shot to the face and the trooper drops dead as it flies back towards him. Cal ducks under the fist that comes at him from the side, throwing out a hand to force push the, previously unnoticed, trooper away.
The solder is thrown into the alcove’s wall, the plastoid cracking loudly at the impact. His buddy stares at the limp body for a minute. Cal bares his teeth and that seems to cement the troopers decision, as he ignites the electrified baton at his side.
“You won't get away!” The Scout Trooper yells.
Cal rolls his eyes. If I had a credit…
Still, he has a job to do.
He rushes forward, saber slamming into the baton in an agressive show of strength. The trooper's arms shake as he tries to push back. Cal clicks off his lightsaber and rolls out of the way, the trooper tripping forward at the sudden loss of contact. Cal slices towards the trooper’s unguarded back and reignites the blade mid-air.
The baton falls to the ground, it's owner collapsing to meet it.
Finally, there is silence.
Cal shuts off his lightsaber and clips it to his belt. He looks over his shoulder to BD-1, a tired smile in place. “That went well.”
Cal puts a hand on the ground to push himself out of the awkward lunge he'd ended up in. A stab of pain is his only warning before he falls on his face.
BD-1 lets out a worried beep, but Cal is too focused on the fire that ignited in his arm. The cold metal of the platform does little to calm the burning sensation. Waves of pain wash over him, strong enough to leave him dizzy.
He shakes his head to clear the spots that arise, suddenly aware of the heat steadily creeping through his veins. Cal inhales rapidly, desperately trying to push the hurt away. It takes a second before he can get a hold of himself.
When he finally attempts to sit up – careful to avoid his left side – he sees BD-1 sitting patiently at his side. Cal smiles at the droid, albeit a little shakily. BD-1 hops up, trilling at the sight.
“I’m alright,” He tries, but it sounds pathetic even to his own ears. BD-1 tilts his head in a way that can only be taken as judging. He beeps the equivalent of an incredulous ‘Really?’.
In a way, Cal’s common sense agrees. Unfortunately, his ego is a little louder, so he responds, insulted. “I am! Just a little… bruised, I guess.”
That seems to spark an idea and BD-1 stamps his feet excitedly. A plate on his head opens to reveal a vial of green liquid. Cal gratefully injects the medicine along his wrist, wincing as the needle pierces aching skin.
Instantly, Cal can feel the exhaustion slip away. The fire begins to dim, but oddly enough the muscles in his arm just tighten. His elbow clenches tightly and Cal bites back a distressed noise at the strained sensation.
Cal closes his eyes tightly and waits for the feeling to ebb away. It’s another minute before he’s calm enough to get up. BD-1 climbs up his right side, all too ready for them to get a move on.
Suddenly, a thought occurs to Cal. The vase!
His hand flies to the pouch on his waist and he all-but rips it open in his haste to check on the ceramic. He breathes a sigh of relief. Completely intact.
Cal slides the vase back into place and decides he’s had enough of Bogano. From giant bugs to rocket launchers, the planet never seems to give him a break.
“Let’s go home.”
—
The final stretch to the Mantis was, thankfully, uneventful. As the gleaming blue paint of the ship comes into view, Cal lets himself relax from the everpresent caution that comes with being on an Imperial infested planet.
The ramp descends with an airy woosh and out stomps Greez in his four-armed glory.
“Kid! Do you have any idea how late it is?!” Cal winces.
He offers his only excuse and holds the vase up for the Lateron to see. “Cere made this for Master Cordova.”
The statement makes Greez pause. He places two hands on his face and rubs tiredly. “Sometimes I forget you get distracted by that Jedi power of yours.”
BD-1 tries to inform Greez about their ‘grand adventure’, but he just shoves a finger at the droid. “And you! You just enable him!”
BD-1 ducks behind Cal’s head, beeping about a lack of appreciation for keeping Cal alive. Cal just rolls his eyes. Some things never change.
“Get inside, kid. Before the night critters come out.” Greez waves him inside gruffly, apparently deciding that arguing against the little droid is pointless.
“Gladly.”
Air conditioning greets him and Cal flops down onto the couch happily, reveling in the humidity-free environment.
Greez snorts at the sight, an eyebrow raised. “Missed the Mantis that much?”
“Missed not being sweaty.” Cal answers, not even bothering to sit-up.
“Hate to break it to you, but you’re still gonna be sweaty. Maybe try a shower.” Greez says dryly.
Cal just groans. He’s never moving again, if he can help it.
Cere’s voice pulls him from his musings. “Cal’s back?”
He stands up, remembering the reason for his trip. Cere gives him an expectant look as he stares at her over the kitchen counter. “So, what have you been up to all afternoon?
Nerves set in, but Cal doesn’t back down. He picks the vase up again and slides it over to Cere.
Her eyes go wide and she reaches towards it slowly. Delicately, she lifts it up and holds it towards the light. Abruptly, Cal can only see the small padawan toiling away furiously as she tried to make the perfect gift. But then he looks at Cere’s face and all he can see is grief.
Guilt washes over him and he realizes he’s made a grave mistake. He starts to ramble. “I mean, I just thought you would want it. I can take it back though-!”
“Cal.” Cere cuts him off gently. Her eyes are shiny, but she smiles. “Thank you for the offer, but I think I’d rather keep it.”
Cal’s shoulders drop from where they’d been bunched up and he starts to breathe again. “Yeah, of course.”
Cere’s gaze goes back to the vase and her pointer finger traces over the flowers adorning it.
Greez walks by Cal, patting him on the shoulder. “Good job, kid.”
He moves to Cere’s side and hums. “Y’know, I think I have just the plant.”
“Yeah?” Cere says, tearing her eyes away from the vase. She and Cal watch as Greez rummages through the cabinets beneath his miniature garden.
It’s quiet for a moment before a smug “A-ha!” comes from the pilot. He turns around proudly and holds a packet of seeds out for all to see. It’s crude packaging, the seal barely held closed by a piece of tape. The only defining feature was a group of bolded letters reading ‘Aura Blossom Seeds’.
“Aura Blossoms?” Cere questions. Greez grins.
“Gottem when we stopped on Kashyyyk. The flowers were glowing and I figured we could use a nightlight on this ship.” He throws an unimpressed look at Cal. “But the kid kept bringing in seed after seed, so we kind of ran out of space.”
Cal’s cheeks heat up and he moves to respond, but Cere’s voice cuts him off.
“They’d look lovely on the counter.” She says.
Greez’s expression softens and he hands her the seeds. “I agree.”
Cal moves to sit on a stool beside Cere, content just watching as she and Greez plant the bristled seeds.
When the task is done, Cere looks as though a weight has been taken from her shoulders. She sets the soon-to-be flower vase in the center of the counter.
Greez nods approvingly from the side. “Give it a week and we won’t even need lights.”
“What exactly is happening here?” Merrin asks from over Greez’s shoulder. The Lateron nearly jumps out of his skin as he whirls around.
“Stop doing that!” He shouts.
“Doing what?”
Cere butts in before Greez can lose his mind. “Cal found an old belonging of my former Master’s. We’ve given it a new purpose.”
Merrin nods intensely. “A smart way to honor him.” She looks at Cal and tilts her head, acquiescing. “Good find.”
“Thanks.” Cal says.
Merrin nods again before sidling up beside him. “Now move, I wish to see.”
Cal splutters as he’s unceremoniously shoved off of his stool, Merrin grinning viscously all the way. In a proper show of Cal luck, he manages to catch himself with his left hand. Agony rips through him as the shockwave rattles his bones. He cries out, collapsing and cradling the limb.
All three bystanders present go stock still as Cal heaves on the floor. He clicks his mouth shut tightly and squeezes his eyes closed, trying to push away the throbbing ache. It doesn’t work; his arm seemingly fed up with his repeated attempts to ignore it.
He’s so focused on the pain that he doesn’t even process Cere calling his name until she places a cool hand on his forehead. He squints his eyes open, but doesn’t speak, breathing too quickly to form any meaningful words.
“Cal, I need to know.” Her words are spoken one at a time, heavily enunciated, and Cal is dimly aware of the fact that he’s reading this from her lips, instead of hearing it. “Are you injured?”
Cal shakes his head rapidly, answer automatic. “No.”
The fact that Cal doesn’t even have the strength to sit up probably doesn’t help his statement. Almost spitefully, his arm tenses up and Cal’s breath stutters. Cere’s eyes narrow.
She reaches down, cold fingers ghosting along his wrist. Cere’s eyebrows furrow and Cal just knows that she’s spotted the string of bruises that decorate his skin.
Cere looks him in the eyes and he freezes apprehensively.
“I’m going to pull up your sleeve.” She tells him. Cal clenches his teeth and he nods.
Her grip is gentle on his hand, but it doesn’t keep him from hurting as she tugs the material over his elbow. If Cal wasn’t already beating back tears, he would be at the sight of his arm. Purple is splattered across his forearm, the rope-like pattern betelling the way it got there. But the bruises are hardly the worst part.
A sickly shine of sweat makes the yellow skin all the more disgusting. Worse still, his elbow’s bone juts out at an odd angle. It stands out; glaring white pulling the skin taught.
It makes Cal nauseous.
He swallows and focuses on Cere instead. Her mouth is pressed into a thin line and she is breathing in deeply.
“Not good, I guess?” Cal jokes weakly.
“Cal.” Merrin scolds from the side, but even she looks a little thrown off.
Cal doesn't have the willpower to look behind him at Greez, but he can picture the pilot’s disgusted shock easily.
Greez never really had much of a stomach for this kind of stuff. Merrin’s tendency towards necromancy is already toeing the line for him and he'd barely even seen the zombified nightsisters.
Cere snaps her fingers in his face and he jolts back into the present. “Do you think you can stand?”
Cal actually gives it some thought. He's pretty sure he's feverish, but all the pain seems to be focused on his left side. Kriffing Oggdo Bogdo.
“Yeah,” He says. “I think so.”
Cere presses a hand onto his – non-injured – shoulder after Cal struggles to sit up for a solid minute.
“Let me help.” She says. Before Cal can argue, she manages to slip an arm around him.
“Merrin?” Understanding quickly, Merrin hooks herself around him too. Together, they pull Cal off the floor, his face red all the while.
As soon as he becomes vertical once again, Cal's head spins. His legs shake, but he stays upright with the extra support.
“Let's move him to his room.” Cere suggests, and Merrin helps them hobble up the steps to the engine room in record time.
Cal frowns at the sight of his bed. He is sure he had left several random gadgets laying on his bed before he left, yet his bed looks pristinely made.
Greez stands off to the side, rubbing his hands together awkwardly.
Before Cal can thank him, he's being eased onto the bed.
His brain finally catches up with him, and he processes BD-1 watching him from the floor.
“Wait, listen, I'm fine,” He tries to tell them. Every face in the room raises an eyebrow. Although BD-1’s is more metaphorical, Cal can still feel it judging.
“I mean, I will be,” Cal adjusts, face hot. “I just need a stim, it'll go away in a minute.”
BD-1 beeps at that, also apparently realizing the amount of healing power he has hidden in his head. He hops onto the bed quickly, offering another vial of the medicine. Cal reaches up to grab it, only to have Cere slap it out of his hand.
“Cere!” Greez shouts, appalled. Even Merrin looks surprised by the sudden violence. Cal stares at Cere in shock, hand pulled towards his chest.
In doing so, he's able to watch as her expression mimics his own; almost as though she hadn't realized she'd even reacted until after.
“...sorry.” Cere offers, before shaking herself out of her stupor. Her gaze becomes intense as she searches for an answer in Cal's eyes. “Just please tell me you haven't been using stims with your arm like this.”
His silence seems to answer the question for her, and she looks towards the roof in an ask of patience.
“Cal,” She starts slowly. “You do know that you should never use stims when you have a broken bone, correct?”
“What?” He asks incredulously. BD-1 mirrors his confusion, staring up at Cere like she'd personally rewritten his world view.
“Force,” She breathes. Her eyes shut for a second before she sits down on the bed by Cal's feet. “Listen to me carefully.”
“Okay?” He says. Cal doesn't have to look away to know that Merrin is watching intently from the sidelines.
“Never, under any circumstances, should you use a stim with a broken bone.” Cere continues. “You must set your bone properly before using any form of accelerated healing, or it will heal wrong.”
Cal blinks. “What?”
Cere sighs and she looks as though she's aged a decade with a single breath. She gestures to his arm, specifically the bone sticking out horrifically.
“This is not good, and it's because you tried to skip an important part of the healing process.”
Cal opens his mouth to argue that he hadn't even known using stims was an issue until ten seconds ago, but Cere beats him to it.
“Whether or not you knew is irrelevant. We have to fix this before it gets worse.”
Cal looks down at the limb that is making its existence known through pain alone. “Worse?”
“It's beginning to heal in its offset position.” Cere said simply. “If it grows like that you might not be able to use your arm properly.”
Greez's nervous voice speaks up. “You said 'if.' That means it probably won't though, right?”
Cere grimaces. “It means it probably will unless we do something.”
Merrin leans back, arms crossed. She glances at Cal and the way he's cradling the bone, before looking at Cere. “And what would that entail?”
Cal nods desperately at the question, because he'd rather keep his arm, thank you.
Cere looks at her hands. Cal’s gut twists. “We have to reset it.”
“Which means…” Greez starts.
“We have to break it again.” Cal says, hope draining. When Cere nods, he winces.
The first time wasn't fun, but Cal supposes he doesn't really have a choice. Not if he wants to ever use his arm again.
Which he does. In case anyone was doubting it.
“Okay.” He breathes and offers Cere his arm.
“Okay?!” Greez screeches. He looks from Cere to Cal and back again. “We aren't seriously going to break the kid's arm again, are we?”
“We have to.” Cere insists. “If he can't use both arms, we are just putting him in more danger than before.”
“That doesn't mean there isn't a better way of doing this!” The Lateron argues.
“What choice do we have, Greez?” Cal asks, too tired to care anymore. “Last I checked, we're wanted criminals in the eyes of the Empire.”
That makes Greez go quiet. He sighs and Cal feels a little bad at the defeated look in his eyes. “...Just don't make it worse than you have to.”
“I'll be careful.” Cere promises, but the purse in her lips gives Cal more anxiety than he wants to admit.
It seems to have the same result on Greez, as he walks to the door quietly. “I'll make some soup. I don't think I wanna be in here for this.”
His absence weighs on Cal more than he'd like to admit, but he needs to be able to defend himself properly. And that includes the use of both arms. So Cal braces himself and hands his arm to Cere.
“Merrin?” She asks.
“Yes?” The nightsister asks in turn.
“Is there something you can do to put the bone in its proper place after I break it?”
Merrin tilts her head in consideration. “I should be able to do so.”
“Okay, good,” Cere breathes. She looks at Cal, apology set deep in her eyes. “We don't have anything to put you to sleep while we do this, so we're going to be as quick as possible, yeah?”
Cal nods rapidly, mouth shut tight.
Cere continues, looking at BD-1. “As soon as I tell you, you are going to inject a stim. Not until we have righted the bone.”
BD-1 beeps, determined and Cal laughs shakily. Cere just reaches past him to grab a scrap of leather from the table. She inspects it before hanging it to Cal.
“Lay down and bite on this.” Cere says. Cal follows her order obediently. His teeth sink into the material viscously, but Cal can't find it in him to care. He squeezes his eyes shut as Cere places her hands on both sides of his elbow.
“On three,” Cere says. “One, tw-”
Without warning, she slams his elbow across her knee. Cal screams, voice muffled by the leather. Distantly, he can hear a clatter of metal in the kitchen, but Cal is too focused on the crack that resonates through his body.
“Merrin!” Cere shouts urgently.
A flash of green and the pain intensifies to an unbearable level. Tears spring to his eyes and Cal sobs as the bone fragments begin moving of their own accord, sliding to and fro inside of his arm. He jerks in Cere's hold, writhing as if to free himself. But Cere's grip is strong against Cal's frenzied twisting and she pins his body down while Merrin works.
It feels like an eternity before they click into place.
“Stim,” Cere demands and Cal’s shoulders tense as the familiar feel of a stim needle is injected into his arm.
He slumps back against the bed, relieved when the pain ebbs away gradually. Even so, his body can't seem to catch up to the sudden drop. His heartbeat thumps in time with the engine of the Mantis and fire still swims in his veins.
“Just breathe,” Cere says softly, fingers coming up to run through his hair. Cal tries, he really does! But he's too trapped in the intense pain to realize that it's gone.
Cere’s thumb comes up to wipe away the tears as Cal struggles to catch his breath. She tugs the leather out of his clenched mouth and throws it to the side. Cal dimly reminds himself to throw it away later.
The gentle caressing continues and Cal can feel himself fully relaxing for the first time all day.
When he hears footsteps, he forces open dreary eyes to see Merrin handing Cere a wet towel.
“‘m okay,” He tries to mumble.
Cere shushes him with a quiet, “Rest, Cal.”
Content with the order, Cal slips unconscious.
Later, he’ll wake up to Greez handing him a bowl of freshly cooked soup and Cere teaching him and Merrin the proper way to tie a sling.
But that is later. For now, Cal falls asleep knowing that he is safe so long as he has his family by his side.