Captain Coruscant and the Hirsute Avenger

[Kes Akiena]

"I don't blame you," he nodded.

It wasn't often that a man found a place that he was willing to fight for. Really fight. Anauri Rabeak had done just that during the attack on Jovan that''d seen too many good men and women die. Too many men and women that had also fought for what they thought of as home. It was a sobering thought. He chose to go back a step.

"You ever thought of inviting your son out here?"

Dossiers offered enough, and he was at least mindful enough to know that things were not the... 'best' between his Chief Engineer and his spouse to say the least, but Kes was determined to try and focus on any sliver of positive thought that he could.

[Anauri Rabeak]

The harsh snap! of the battery back onto the diagnostic computer helped to mask the expression which ran through Anauri's entire body when mention came of inviting his son to Jovan. Paws worked the device over, attempting to bring it back to life as he stared down at its loading screen.

"Every day," he grunted. "But it's not possible."

He made no attempt to offer an explanation, even a false one. There was simply the answer.

[Kes Akiena]

There was a strange sense of understanding that permeated the small confines, and Kes only afforded Anauri a fleeting look before sending his eyes back to a wall. He had no desires to ruffle feathers or make already tense matters more aggravated, so he instead remained quiet. It was a silence that of course did not last.

"I've never married, and certainly never had a child," he finally gave in offer, "... so I'll not ask you to explain."

Kes was more than aware that his limited experience with women would not afford him any deeper insight into the matter. He gave a helpless half-shrug.

"I'm the last person you want to talk of about family troubles."

[Anauri Rabeak]

The tube fell silent for several seconds, given reprieve only by a beep from Anauri's computer signalling that its reboot was complete. He hesitated.

"It's not possible because I'm not allowed to have contact with him. Legally," he sighed. The diagnostic computer slid to his side, and the Nehantite reached a paw up to rub the back of his neck. He had to tell someone. He had to have just one person on Jovan who might be able to understand. He didn't expect that person would have wound up being his boss, but perhaps it was for the best.

"I love my son, I always have," he began. "I was there when he was born, I watched him take his first steps. Nehantite males don't often interact much with their children until they're ten or so, but I was there for him whenever I could be. My ex used to call me 'Superdad.' I only ever wanted the best for him. I wanted him to be happy. But it was that desire for him to be happy, and to become his own man, which cost me everything."

There was more to come, but the Nehantite needed a moment to collect himself and gather his thoughts, separating what was relevant from what was important to him. His tail brushed in raspy strokes along the smooth durasteel tube wall he leaned against, while his shoulders fell in defeat.

"When he was fifteen, I came home early from work one day, and his mother was still at work, too. I found him in his room, in bed with another male. One of my employees." His head tilted back up to look Kes in the eye. "I know what you've probably heard about Nehantite males, and, well, some of it's true. But this wasn't mating season. Homosexuality isn't a crime in Nehantish anymore, but it's very frowned upon, and if it got out that my son was a tail-raiser, it would cost him his place in school, and cost me most of my contracts. So I backed out of the room, and later that night, when his boyfriend was gone, I took him for a ride in my car and we had a talk. I thought it might have just been a curiosity thing, but, no, he really preferred males, and I could see how much worry was in his heart that I'd disown him. I couldn't do that. I stopped, pulled him across the bench seat and hugged him like I'd never hugged him before. He was my son, how could I hate him? How could I keep him from his happiness? I promised him I'd not say anything, and he promised to be careful. And he was."

A sigh followed. "Until about two years later. This time it was his mother who came home, and she caught him and his boyfriend - who still worked for me - in the act. She was livid. When my son tried to explain to her, she wouldn't have it. Then he said that I was okay with it, and that's when everything went to hell. She filed for divorce immediately, and changed the locks so I couldn't even get inside when I came home that night. I was labeled as encouraging a deviant lifestyle in my own son, and barred from any further contact with him of any kind. I haven't so much as seen him since that day. I lost everything but my car and my tools, but most of all I lost my son."

The brushing of his tail increased in frequency, its tip snapping against the walls at either end as the Nehantite bit back his anger. "It might be good that you never had children, Commander. You don't want to know what it's like to lose them."

[Kes Akiena]

Kes listened with a respectful silence, allowing Anauri to speak. It was an unfortunate telling, but at the same time there was something wonderful hidden inside, and that was the true depths of the Chief's love for his son. Not every parent held that sort of love for their children, and it was heartening to see that even though he'd been forced to leave, Anauri still clutched that love close.

At the Nehantite's last words though, Kes merely gave a thin-lipped smile.

"Sometimes the experience is worth the loss. If you knew that you would be forced away, would you have still chosen to have a child?"

[Anauri Rabeak]

"Absolutley," Anauri nodded. His right paw fished into his back pocket to pull out an old and worn leather wallet. One side was smooth, polished by years of contact with fabric while the other side was rough and hardened by sweat. Flipping it open, he thumbed through the fragile photo holders, much-repaired with clear tape, to a picture of a young Nehantite in his mid teens. Brown-furred like Anauri, but with more headfur and a lighter build, the boy was smiling, a cheerful sparkle in his pink eyes. It was just a casual snapshot, but the family resemblance was still strong, and Anauri looked at the image before turning it to show Kes.

"That's him. That's Jofar. We called him Joey," he said. "And that's all I'm ever going to see of him again."

For the moment, he durasteel walls of their confines were forgotten to Anauri, and he lived on a greater plane of memory.

[Kes Akiena]

Kes peered at the picture, leaning forward a small bit to get a closer look. The resemblance was there, in the brow line and the shape of the eyes. He gave a nod of acknowledgment.

"He's got your looks around the eyes," he grinned lightly before his own eyes shifted past the photo to look at Anauri.

There was nothing to say in that moment, as the redhead blinked, leaning back once more and easing his weight to his other leg. His grip on one of the ladder rungs loosened a bit, but not enough to fully release. There was a satisfaction to the silence.

A minute passed, and he finally spoke up once more.

"I had a friend. Knew him from a long time ago." Talk of Jacob Nellis was still difficult at times.

"He died in the attack." His sentences were short; clipped.

"But, he left behind a wife who's probably going to be giving birth to their child next week sometime."

There was a pause, as Kes felt his features harden in a strange expression, his eyes glazed over in partial remembrance of starting that awful letter, then scrapping the entire thing; he'd actually thrown the datapad into the trash bin.

"Loss goes both ways."

[Anauri Rabeak]

Anauri allowed himself another look at the most prized photo in his wallet, accepting the silence in his own way. Then the wallet was closed and tucked back in his pocket, just as memory of Jofar was tucked back into the depths of Anauri's heart so that he could shift gears and process that which Kes related.

"No child should have to grow up without their father," he stated. "We all lost those we care about in the attack. I wasn't fast enough to save some of my engineers. That's something I'll have to carry every day, but I can't let it stop me. We're alive, we have to keep living. In my culture, only one man has ever truly come back from death, but that's just a legend."

A glance down at the hatch below brought about a sour face. "But if we don't want to become legends, I think I should give this hatch another try."

With a nod, Kes climbed the ladder to give Anauri room in which to work, and the Nehantite set about his task with practiced deftness. Plug in, scan, sequence, unlock.
Click click.

Click click click.

Click click click click click click click click click.

The staccato tapping of the mechanism echoed through the access shaft, along with Anauri's furious button mashing until he snarled and wrenched the interface cable free. "Okay, that's not working, let me try the upper one again."

The careful up and down dance around the ladder was performed, with an accidental brushing of Anauri's tail fully across Kes's face along the way, and the Nehantite was quick to the top. Once there, his paw trembled, missing the interface socket with the lead three times before it finally clicked home and he hurriedly ran through the same process as below, with no better results. Tail flicking madly, Anauri braced the diagnostic computer on a ladder rung so that he could pound on the hatch with a fist.

"Come on you piece of shit! Open up! Just fucking open up, damn it!"

[Kes Akiena]

The beginning notes of impatience were more than clear in Anauri's voice, and Kes frowned as his mind raced. Surely there were other avenues they could take to try and gain access? A low hrm then, as his frown deepened only slightly.

It more than likely wouldn't work, but it was worth a shot. Leaning away from the ladder, he sent his eyes up so that he could meet Anauri's own narrowed, frustrated orbs.

"Try access override code KS dash 27844A dash SQ."

[Anauri Rabeak]

Kes had his own personal override code? Nobody was supposed to have a universal override code outside of engineering. Anauri made a mental note to discuss the matter with Gradoona when he got back to Engineering.

More like if we get back to Egineering.

Shut up, you. I'm the one who's fine, here, you're the one who's freaking out.

A deep breath cleared both of Anauri's internal voices, and he entered the code. His reward was the farting squeal of an invalid access code returned from his computer. "Yeahhh, not going," he called back down. "It's not even taking the access code I set for everything on the station. Looks like we're going to have to go at this the old-fashioned way. Catch!"

No further warning was given before he tossed the diagnostic computer and its lead cable down to Kes. One arm looped around the ladder. the other fiddled with the strap of his tool bag where it connected to the bag itself. Simple pressure karabiners connected the canvas strap to eyelets in the bag, and he carefully attached the karabiner to one of his sturdy beltloops, then released the strap. With a rattle of metal and plastic the bag swung down from his side, dangling by its new hook point before he snagged up the strap and disconnected it entirely. "Old trick," he explained.

Threading the strap through one of the upper ladder rings, he fed one end through the front of his belt, and connected both ends of the bag's strap in a loop with the remaining karabiner. It was a simple suspension harness rig, and hardly a health-and-safety compliant one, but it was enough to support his weight as he let go of the ladder with his paws, able to hang back, suspended by his booted footpaws and the strap through his belt. Arms free, Anauri pulled his toolbag back up and began to root through it until he located a set of screwdrivers and began to open the panel which he'd had no luck interfacing with.

"If you want to have a seat, go for it," he called down. "This might take a while."

It better not. I can't keep this up for much longer.

You're going to have to. You're just going to have to.

[Kes Akiena]

Well, it was a long shot, but apparently in the end it didn't matter. With a sigh Kes leaned against the wall of the access tube. He'd not felt like sitting, and would only do so if his legs threatened him too much.

"Been sitting for most of the day, he let out in a somewhat good-natured grumble while still holding the diagnostic computer, "So even just standing around is welcomed."

Craning his neck up to get a glimpse of whatever it was Anauri planned on doing, the redhead let his thoughts wander to Tish. It couldn't be helped, really. Talk - no matter how brief - of his old friends only ever made his mind settle back into old concerns. He'd checked on her every day since their visit to the Madame's teahouse, taking care of whatever paperwork and other official documents that needed tending while Tish managed as best as she could with her pregnancy. Usually she slept, though other times she ate like a starving bantha. It was fascinating in a way, and a little bit scary.

A frown, and Kes brought his thoughts back to the here and now.

"Anything I can help with?"

[Anauri Rabeak]

"Not unless you have a power pack hidden in one of your pockets, with enough juice in it to power one of these hatches," Anauri's reply came back down with all the subtlety of falling, broken glass.

Overhead, the chief pried free a cover plate and tucked it into his coat pocket before freeing wiring within. Junior engineers, and even many mid-level ones would need to reference a wiring diagram to know what they were looking at, but if there's one thing which Anauri held in abundance, it was experience. Thirty-six years of it, in fact, working on some of the worst crap in the galaxy all the way up to cutting-edge sophistication. So it was with direct and deft handling that he began to unstring some of the wiring and move connections, hoping to overload the hatch control and either pop it open, or disengage the locking clamp which held it shut, allowing him to pry it open. There was relaxation found by burying himself in his work, a temporary reprieve from the tight walls and locked hatches at either end of the ladder. The tubular prison from which he could not escape.

From below, Kes could surely see the Nehantite bring his shoulders in, tightening his body where he hung suspended from the loop through his belt as if to make his confines feel larger.

"Think I got it," the Nehantite announced. "If we can make it to the top, we can use the radio there to call for some help. Shield generators around us kill our personal comm signals, too much interference, but the one up there is hardwired." Another deep breath, another attempt to convince himself that the door would open, that he wasn't trapped, and Anauri crossed a pair of wires.

The lights in the access tube flickered, then went out as a shower of sparks sprayed across Anauri's face, already turned away in case of such a reaction. As the sparks died out, the tube fell into darkness, utter and complete, followed by silence. Then, in the dark, a series of scratches could be heard, the sound of blunt clawtips frantically trying to pry open the hatch above. "Come on! Open up! Just open!"

It was difficult to tell which was more frantic: the scrabbling scrape of Anauri's claws, or the tone of his voice.

[Kes Akiena]

The shower of sparks in unexpected and sudden darkness cause Kes to shut his eye against the momentary brightness. He'd been too late though, and could already see spots of light behind his eyelids. He kept them shut for the moment, knowing that if he opened them he'd only see the very same pinpricks dancing about in the blackness.

The sound of Anauri's clawtips scraping against metal caught his ears, and he angled his head up despite being unable to see in the dark. He knew the sound of desperation in a voice; he'd held such tones before, and had heard it in others enough times. The frantic clawing was also a decent enough indicator that his Chief Engineer was having a rough go at things.

Which was to put it lightly.

His brow knit, unseen, and one hand went out to grasp the side of the ladder before moving up and coming in contact with the Nehantite's pantleg. Fingers held firm.

"Easy, Chief," Kes let his voice drop a tone, hoping to smooth over his fellow captive's frayed nerves.

"Take a breath. Just pull in, hold, and slowly let it out."

[Anauri Rabeak]

In the pitch blackness, Anauri felt his claws catch upon the seam of the hatch doors, trying desperately to gain enough purchase to pry them open as if the locking clamps would magically disable themselves for him if he tried hard enough. The hand upon his shin, however, brought him back to reality, and his paws slipped away to clutch the top rung of his ladder.

Deep breath. In, hold, slowly out. Biologically it helped to slow his heart in that moment, and he had to admit that the darkness held some small comfort as he could not see his boundaries. In, out. In, out, the Nehantite controlled his breath. But it all seemed to be for nothing as his fists balled and the echoing boom of his pounding against the hatch filled the shaft.

"I have to get out, Commander," his voice pleaded. "I just have to get out. We're trapped. Can't be trapped. Can't be trapped. Not again." The words were rythmic, each short sentence coming out in a single breath as he worked steadily toward hyperventilating.

[Kes Akiena]

The breathing exercise had only worked enough to allow him a short insight into the once-more rising tensions of a man frantic for freedom, and Kes bowed his head even as his grip tightened. He needed his Chief Engineer to stay calm. In the dark, they both needed to keep their wits about them. Even if there was no imminent danger or threat of attack, those small little doubts and 'what-if's' could creep in through any seam. He needed those seams airtight.

"Stay calm," there was a steadiness to his voice, in the hopes that it would impart some level of ease to Anauri's worsening state of mind.

"In, hold, out. In, hold, out. In, hold, out."

He repeated the mantra, hoping that the Nehantite was following along, and when he felt reasonable sure that he was, the redhead broke the litany in favor of something that would held to further the process along.

"What was Joey's first word?"

[Anauri Rabeak]

Darkness, echoes, the hatch sealed before him, the entire world seemed to be clamping down upon Anauri Rabeak. Not just physically, but in his mind and soul as well, crushing and squeezing him like clay inside a giant fist, the very fibers of his being feeling as if they were threatening to squelch out through the gaps, leaving him destroyed. Distant sounds came to him, those of explosions, gunfire and the crackle of flames, accompanied by a chorus of cries both guttural and horrific as memories from decades before played out in his mind.

Kes was gone, as was Jovan itself, and instead of durasteel walls there was only cracked and crumbling concrete; a small prison of overpass having collapsed after being bombed, trapping him in darkness and tight confines with no chance of escape on his own. His men screamed as they were cut down, and he could feel the earth shake as yet more bombs fell and tanks rumbled through. In his paws he clutched his heavy machine gun, meant to support his fellow soldiers, but it was useless in his concrete cell. For three days he endured total darkness, not knowing if he would ever see the stars or sun again, his mind reeling in on itself to the point of jibbering madness. It was only the thought of his wife and son which prevented him from crawling into the deepest depths of insanity in his confines.

Like a lifeline thrown to a man drowning at sea, his son once again returned to save him.

"Joey," the name escaped his lips, a shadow of a whisper. Despite the darkness, Anauri felt his pink eyes unfocusing, parts of his brain overriding his fear and terror in order to recall those days so long ago. "It... it was..." he began, then paused. The change in his breathing was audible, the sharp rasp dying down into slow, measured breath.

"Mama," he continued. "I wasn't there for it, I was deployed, but my wife told me it was 'mama.' He didn't learn 'daddy' until I returned from my tour of duty."

[Kes Akiena]

Kes smiled to himself in the dark, his ears picking up the slowed pace of breathing as it angled to a much more manageable level. This was good.

"I'm sure it didn't take long after you got back before he was shouting 'daddy' to the world," his hand remained, though the grip had begun to loosen until his hand merely rested on Anauri's shin. Another few moments later, his hand fell away to grip the side of the ladder.

There was trauma, that was easy enough to sense. But it was something that each man had to work through in their own time. Kes had done so to a certain degree with his own demons, but in the moment there were more pressing matters that needed soothing, and he was determined to make sure that both of them would be able to get through this. Right now though, his Chief Engineer needed to focus. Not necessarily on getting them out right away, but more on calming his own mind.

"Tell me more about Joey," he stated simply.

[Anauri Rabeak]

Anauri could not appreciate the tact and level-headedness of his commanding officer. It was not because he disrespected Kes, or that he disliked the words he was saying, but because even without the darkness enveloping the pair, the blindness of panic had overwhelmed his senses. Walls of defense had been thrown up in his mind to keep him focused on the one thing which would alleviate his madness - escape, but like any hastily-erected wall, there were chinks and holes in it, and it was through one of those that Kes reached the Nehantite.

Pink eyes closed, Anauri felt another part of his wall give way as he chose darkness instead of becoming its victim.

"Tell me more about Joey."

The words rang inside the walls of his mind, demanding their say over the screams of panic and fear. Memories unfolded, some mixing with his state of phobia, others providing warmth and solace from it, until at last the correct avenues became clear to him.

"He loved sports," Anauri replied, a good thirty seconds after the question was posed. "He wanted to play habatta, but he didn't have my build, he was more slender, taking after his mother. I encouraged him to play soccer instead, and he was good at it."

A gentle sweep of his tail brushed over Kes's face by accident, but Anauri did not seem to notice. "He was a good fencer, too. Quick, nimble, he could have been a master with the tulwar. By the time he was twelve I couldn't best him anymore, not with my heavier scimitar. I wish he'd have pursued competition, but he didn't. He was smart. He wanted to be a lawyer. Can you imagine that? The son of a blue-collar engineer wanted to be a lawyer by the time he was twelve."

[Kes Akiena]

"Sounds like a hell of a kid," Kes smiled in the dark. It was easy to hear the pride peeking out through the cracks of Anauri's panic. But, it wasn't quite enough to get his Chief Engineer back into fighting shape, and the redhead pressed on.

"I can see where he got his smarts, though."

There was a short hesitation as he gave the Nehantite a firm, reassuring pat to the leg.

"You don't give yourself enough credit."

[Anauri Rabeak]

"Well, I am currently stuck in an access tube, in the dark, with my boss, on a station I'm supposed to be the Chief Engineer of, and I'm trying my best to not lose my mind right now, so maybe credit isn't the thing I deserve at the moment," came Anauri's reply.

Labored, stuttering breaths followed, but the Nehantite's mouth was clenched so tight that no more words could escape. In his mind, Anauri kicked himself over and over for being so afraid of such a silly thing, a meaningless thing. Other people had much larger problems, like being eaten alive by a sarlacc, or being an alcoholic.

Alcoholic. The word triggered a response he was not expecting, and while his mind was essentially offline singing "La la la I can't hear you!" to the world, his base natures decided to take the wheel and steer things for a bit. Without the luxury of introspection, more words came.

"They say that admitting you have a problem is the first step to solving it," he said. "Well, I have a very big problem right now. I am trapped, in the dark, in a very small place I can't get out of. I have to get this hatch open, Commander. I have to get out of here. I have to."