#i call this piece “ahsoka and her blue eyed stare” <3 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

marythegizka · 6 years

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Bodyswap AU - Part 8 (here are the links to: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7)

The Ark Angel took off and dashed over the valley, piercing through clouds of ash as it made its way up. Aphra punched the coordinates into the computer. In a matter of hours, she would be home. A mental scoff followed. 'Home'. It wasn't home, really. Never had been. Just a bed and a roof. And if there was one thing she hadn't planned on doing with Vader, it was bringing him along to pay her father a visit. But there was little choice in the matter. Aphra sighed, a slightly louder wheeze, casting Vader a brief glance. Maybe she should give him a heads up, just in case. Or maybe not. It had been such a long time since she'd last seen her father, he would hardly notice the change. She'd blame suspicious behavior on 'the booze'. At least that he would believe, with all the credit he gave her. All they had to do was show up and mention the Ordu Aspectu, and he'd just roll with it. Things would be fine. Probably.

She turned towards Vader, then towards Ahsoka, and towards Vader again. None of them had spoken since they had taken off. The hyperdrive whirred and hummed, filling the gaps between her breaths, and a sense of discomfort hung around like stale air, making her throat clench a bit. Subtle wafts of emotions flowed her way, spikes of anger and dips of guilt, surges of hope followed by dread. Although she knew they came from them, she couldn't pinpoint which was whose. It was like bathing in feeling-soup. She didn't like it.

Ahsoka made an attempt to break the silence.

"So... do you intend to spend the whole trip pouting?"

Vader didn't bat an eye.

"Why not."

Oh, Aphra fully believed that. Vader had never struck her as the most cheerful person to be around, and she'd gotten used to his 'moods', as Triple-Zero called them. Even so, the atmosphere was a little tense for her taste.

"Hey, not that this is any of my business," she said, "but why all the drama? I'm... picking up bad vibes. Literally. I think."

"I do not routinely engage in conversation with traitors." Vader snapped. "Forgive my lack of practice in the matter."

"Traitors?!" the girl blurted out. "You tried to murder me but go off I guess."

"That makes two of us."

Ahsoka fell silent, and the air grew heavier. Her eyes were glistening, Aphra noticed. She shifted in her seat, unsure of what to say.

"Oookay... How about music then? I have Jatz, Quenk Jazz, some old Rodian Rock... any preference? "

Her hand hovered over the dashboard, waiting for an answer she half-suspected wouldn't come. It didn't. She sighed, and pressed "on". An engaging Zeltron dancer began jiggling over the holo-player, casting the camera sultry looks. Vader gave her a side look.

"Stop judging," she said, opening the food-safe.

"I'm not judging."

"Right," she said, handing him a can of cheap blue mappa. He eyed it with suspicion.

"You won't get drunk on that," she reassured. "Trust me, you've got training."

He grabbed the can, took a sip and coughed. Oh dear. And after all those years on vitapaste he wouldn't call himself picky.

"I will pass."

"Snob."

"What?" He knew what she had said - the vocoder was more suited to barking orders than mumbling - but the word took him by surprise. He wasn't snobbish, really. Just... direct.

"Nothing," she said, turning towards Ahsoka. "Ahsoka, would you like a drink? You look beat."

The girl snapped out of her stupor and looked at them numbly, her eyes moist with silent tears.

"I'm fine," she said feebly. "Thank you."

There was a time he would have attempted to comfort her. Now she was a traitor. She could have joined him, become an inquisitor, a Sith apprentice maybe. She chose the Rebellion. Perhaps it was a good thing then, that this time was long gone. His throat clenched. Perhaps.

Aphra shrugged.

"Hm. Well if you change your mind... you know where the hooch is. There's food too."

Ahsoka tried to smile.

"How about you?"

"I uh... I just drank weird stuff from a straw. I'm good. Sort of good."

Vader snorted. Weird stuff from a straw. That was one way to put it.

The music switched to dissonant Leap-jump.

"They used to play this at Dexe's", Ahsoka said.

"Dex. It's called Dex."

Ahsoka sat upright, pointing her chin up.

"Dex. It's called Dex," she parroted.

"Quit it, Snips."

This time, Ahsoka actually smiled.

"You just called me Snips."

"I thought you hated it, Snips."

"Not anymore, Skyguy."

"Don't. Call me. Skyguy."

"Or what?"

"Permission to intervene, Masters?" Triple-Zero chimed in.

"Denied," came their joint reply.

The droid left the cockpit.

"No Beetee, this doesn't look promising. Humans these days."

Aphra looked at the navicomputer. Two hours left. And the ambient tension lingered.

"By the way Ahsoka, why don't you grab some sleep? You look exhausted. My bunk is..." she paused, remembering the girl's confusion upon finding them there. "You know where it is. Make yourself at home."

"You're right. I am exhausted."

Ahsoka stood up.

"Thank you," she said, bowing her head slightly before leaving the room.

The tension eased a little. Now Aphra had two whole hours to ruminate about her boss meeting her dad. And the longer she dwelt on it, the more the thought worried her.

Ahsoka jerked awake as he ship hit the ground, bouncing like a spring on its landing gear. She had feared the nightmares, but her sleep turned out dreamless. Yet she remained exhausted. But she had been prepared. Her last encounter with Anakin had left scars on both of them, and as much as she hoped, as desperate as she was for another glimpse of that faint flicker of light, she knew nothing would ever be the same. And it hurt. Malachor had hurt them. And it had changed her. With nothing but Sith artifacts to engineer her escape, she had delved into their secrets, tapped into their power... and made it hers. She had found it, in the end, her one and only way out: one last portal through the Force. She had found it, used it, destroyed it. But for that to happen... A sob escaped her. She had to. It wasn't really falling if you didn't lose it, right? Not if you could claw your back to the Light. It couldn't be. It mustn't be. And now that she was free, she would help Anakin break out. She had to. For the Rebellion. And for her friend.

Aphra leaned back in her seat, not quite succeeding to stretch in the cramped space, and switched the engines off. A red light remained on at the bottom of the dashboard, signalling a leak in the secondary fuel tank. Aphra stood up.

"See? This ship is a keeper. Told you the leak wasn't that big. We still have quite a bit," she said pointing at the fuel gauge. "I'll check it up in a minute."

Vader shook his head. Her faith in that piece of junk would be the death of her. She stood there and stared at him, hands firmly planted on her hips. She must have picked up on his exasperation.

"Say it."

"Say what?"

"What you've just been thinking," she said.

Vader gave her a wry look.

"Doctor, what makes you think you're allowed in my head?"

In truth, it was unlikely she had sensed a clear, fully-formed thought. The occurrence was rare, even for him. A general feeling of aggravation? Definitely. But thoughts were another matter. A delicate matter, one that required control.

"I didn't..." She paused. "You can read thoughts?" she asked, which such incredulity Vader could almost hear her popping round eyes at him.

"It's not that easy."

And it was lucky, really. He remembered one time, walking through a busy street, when the minds of passers-by had suddenly become as clear as pure water. It had felt like an assault. "If I don't pay Black Sun..." - "Senator Mothma said..." - "So if that's ten credits..." - "Who's that?" - "Monster" - "Freak" - "Don't come near"... The incident had barely lasted a minute, and had left him exhausted, his blood pulsing in his hears, physically struggling not to slash through the crowd. He'd stood there paralyzed, feeling like a proton torpedo ready to explode. "Are you alright, sir?" "Get away from me!" He hadn't told his master. There was no point.

"Is that a challenge?" Aphra asked.

"No," he snapped, pointing a finger at her. "Do not try it."

Vader heard steps behind him.

"Hi!" came Ahsoka's voice.

Aphra greeted her with her usual enthusiasm.

"Good morning," he said reluctantly. "Why don't you join Doctor Aphra? She's got a leak to fix."

"It's no big deal, really, I can do that on my own."

Vader shot her an icy look.

"On second thought, maybe I could use a hand. After that we'll go meet my... contact."

"Sure."

Ahsoka followed her into the engine room.

"You don't really need a hand do you?"

"Nope. I've got two," she said, wiggling both arms. "Kidding. Really."

Ahsoka shook her head.

"Would I be wrong to assume he's always like that?"

Aphra chuckled, lifting a panel behind the tank. There was a thin drip on the side on the container, but that was nothing she couldn't manage.

"What did you expect?"

"Honestly? I don't know. A lightsaber in the heart was always a possibility."

Aphra nodded.

"I know the feeling."

Ahsoka gave her a wan smile.

"Yet you're staying."

"Yes." Aphra bit her tongue. Things were getting awkward. "Right. There's a plasma welder right under your left foot."

Ahsoka handed it to her.

"Thanks. Aaaand there we go," she said, sealing the breach. "Easy. Now if you could keep an eye on the kids?"

"Kids?"

"Droids. Just in case. We'll be back in a bit."

"Okay but..."

Aphra waved a hand.

"You'll do great!"

She could still feel Ahsoka's stupefied look as she left the engine room, heading straight for the cockpit.

"There, patched it", she said.

"Then let us not delay."

Vader followed her outside.

They had landed at the foot of a grassy, stony hillock, the top of which was crowned by a small, hive-shaped mud house.

"Is this where your contact lives?"

"Yes, but he..."

Before she could finish, Vader was leaping up the dirt stairs. There was no point in delaying. The door had been left ajar. He knocked and pushed it.

"Hello?"

The place was, to put it simply, an absolute junkyard. Stone tablets lay scattered all over the clay floor, amidst heaps of old books and worn-out artifacts - there was even a kyber on top of the fireplace. The stew that simmered over the hearth gave off a musty smell, like the underside of a sun-beaten evaporator. At the center of the room, half-hidden by a pile of books, an oldish man was bending over a manuscript, mumbling in... was that Proto-Basic?

The man hardly noticed him. Vader stepped inside.

"Sir, we have need of you."

The man looked up from his work, his eyes popping round.

"Sir?"

"What else should I address you as?"

The man flinched as Aphra entered the room as well. His mouth fell open, but no sound came out.

Aphra sighed, pinching the nose of her mask.

"Oh kriff... try 'Dad'."

>Part 9

#bodyswap au #vadaphra #my fics

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