sekkritaus | Rex / Andy / Poe Freelance Heroes AU

It's not more important. [ Poe immediately protested. ] It's important, sure, but so are you.

[ Said without a shadow of a doubt and more than a little defiance, as if he was expecting either or both of them to fight him on this. ]

You'll survive it. [ Echoing Andy, before casting a dark look in the direction the Kaminoan left. ] You'd better survive it.

And we're not letting anyone catch you. [ Even more defiantly. ] I've got space on my ship and I can outrun any Imperial ship ever made. If you can't find a place to go, you can stay with me.

[ He cast a glance at Andy, then, and the next thing he said didn't sound like the question it actually was: ]

With us.

At least you figure shit out.

[ Rex looks at Poe, completely flabbergasted. This isn't going according to plan. None of this is. He's spent months cultivating an image of himself in his previous identity, a masked mercenary of few words and a stoicism that goes well beyond the mask, but evidently a day and a half in these idiots' company and it completely falls to pieces. He knows he's gaping, at least a little bit. He just can't manage to school his expression quickly enough to cover it up. But this kind of talk, this kind of behaviour - it was unthinkable even before the galaxy went to shit. It's certainly unthinkable now.

You're important, he says, to some asshole he's just met, who dragged them into a greater conflict than they would have ever signed up for without their knowledge. What a load of bantha shit. ]

You just met me. You don't even know whether or not I'm telling the truth. For all you know, that woman in there is going to do nothing to me and say she did.

[ There are a thousand ways this could go. Rex could be untrustworthy. He could be mad. He could be lying. He could lead them down a dark, dangerous path. He could have far more people than just the Empire on his tail.

He looks over at Andy, already catching on that she may be the one with more self-preservation skills beyond her Scythian nature - or, perhaps, more Poe-preservation skills. He almost wants her to fight it, just for a little show of rationality. He's not sure why - he should be taking the offer and running; it'd certainly be in his best interest - but he can't bring himseelf not to argue with it, knowing what he'd be carrying with him. ]

What's in it for you?

Edited 2019-01-28 05:16 (UTC)

[ Andy's not so sentimental as Poe is — at least not outwardly — and she's definitely not as noble. She has her reservations, that much is obvious, but her foolishness lies not in her idealism — it's in her choice to disregard her cynicism, even in these moments when it would likely serve her survival. She knows she should abandon them. She knew that before they even got here — before the clone's mask came off and they realized just how deep in the shit they really were.

But she's still here. Even if she's still convinced she shouldn't be, she hasn't moved to go. The truth is, she likes their odds better with her at their back than without — and while she knows better than to care, she still does. ]

Call it my act of charity for the century. Might help me sleep at night. [ She shrugs. It's not completely a lie — but not so honest as admitting that it's half for Poe and half because she's softer than she'd like to be. Given the opportunity, she'd rather make the right choice than the selfish one, though she'd also prefer not to be called out on it. ] If you're lying, we'll find out soon enough. Assuming the procedure or the Imps don't kill you first, I can always kill you later.

[ It's a deadpan threat — empty at this point, maybe. Hard to tell, stoic as she seems. Steady with her eye contact, unflinching. ]

Are you still seriously trying to convince me that you're some kind of spy? [ Poe asked, clearly flabbergasted. He thumbed in Andy's direction. ]

I'm happy to let her sort you out if that somehow magically is the case, but no offense, you'd be the worst choice for an agent that they could muster. Why bother with an elaborate set up to pass a clone than use someone who wasn't obviously made for the imperial war machine?

[ It's a little harsh, and he feels a little bad, but he's in Fite mode so mostly he just looks grumpy. He turned his head to Andy. ]

He's not lying, he thinks we are. Which is a little insulting, given how many people I just shot, but. [ Looking back at Rex. ] I can spot something the imps would flip their shit over a mile away, and that's a good enough start for me, even if the details aren't honest.

I'm not trying to convince you of anything, [ Rex snaps back. ] I'm saying that I could do anything - be anything.

[ He's telling the truth, of course. Rex usually does. Hell, even when he's not telling the truth, it's through deliberately witholding details, not lying; he's simply not built for dishonesty. It doesn't come naturally to him and he's rarely able to come up with a decent cover story on the fly.

But these two don't know that. They don't know anything about him. They just know that he's a clone and that he thinks he needs surgery. Any other person would think him mad. The people that he was born with and raised with certainly did. As did the Republic. There's absolutely no reason for these strangers to believe him or, on top of that, to help him at the risk of their own skin.

When he averts his gaze, it's from Poe, not Andy. He'd met her gaze straight on, appreciating the threat as much as he appreciated the fact that she doesn't waver. Hers is an attitude he's far more comfortable with and, frankly, one that he feels is the more sensible one. Instead, his gaze lingers on the door and whatever ambiguous fate lies before him.

An act of charity, eh? That's one thing he never wanted to be. He's nothing if he's not useful. But he won't be of any use to anyone if he's dead. ]

I'm just trying to understand before you bring all of them down on your head.

[ People like this don't tend to be paid guns. They are, it seems, an exception. ]

[ To be fair, Andy is absolutely a liar. And being the kind of secretive bitch that she is, she's well-aware of how little they know going into all of this. She's also aware that she gains almost nothing tangible by staying to help. It's wildly stupid risk-taking. The only reasons to do it are sentimental, noble-minded reasons that get idealists killed across the galaxy on a daily basis.

She'd like to tell herself she's not the type of idiot that sticks around for sentimental, noble-minded reasons. She'd really like to. But she can't. Not today. ]

What the hell does it matter. [ She leans back against the wall. Closes her eyes. ] Maybe I'm bored with nothing better to do. Maybe I'm just in the mood to be really stupid. Who cares. We already decided.

[ After a moment, her eyes open again — just a sliver of dark color, watching the clone as she goes on pointedly: ]

If you were smart, you'd stop trying to understand and focus on what you came here for. I'm nobody to you. He's nobody to you either. If we take consequences with us later, that's on us. You don't lose a damn thing.

[ As if she doesn't admire it a little, the fact that he even bothers. But she doesn't want to explain herself. She doesn't want to admit a damn thing. ]

I'm already on the Empire's hit list. Helping out one clone in the backwaters of no where isn't going to up my bounty by a very high percentage. [ Wryly. ]

Look. Let's just say that if I was in a shit position, fighting against the Empire, I would take any help I could get.

[ He paused, brows furrowing, and glanced away. ]

I'm paying it forward, or whatever you want to call it.

So, like she says. Stop worrying about us and just focus on what you came here for.

[ It still doesn't sit right with him, this act of kindness and his complete inability to give anything back in kind. He's never had an unpaid debt before. But they're right: they're technically going into this clear-headed, of their own volition, and he has no other choice.

He'll find a way to make it up to them, somehow. ]

Very well, then. [ He reaches into his pack and tosses out another pouch of money - at Andy, this time. ] The other half of your payment, as promised. I'm a man of my word.

[ He sets his pack and his cloak down onto one of the provided chairs - he doesn't trust the Kaminoan not to rifle through it - and strides towards the door, pausing just shy of it. He is, for a moment, very, very still. Then he turns to them and clears his throat. ]

...Thank you. To seem ungrateful wasn't my intent. [ Poe reminds him of someone he used to know, actually, what seems like a very long time ago. ] Fives was my brother. My name is Rex.

[ Andy catches the pouch with one hand, not bothering to count the credits before putting it into her pocket. The money seems beside the point now, even if she'd like to say that the cash is what motivates her. This job has changed radically since she picked it up, and she's almost certain there isn't a price point that could make the potential consequences worth it anyway. So fuck it. Whatever. At least she knows she's being stupid, right?

She watches as the clone moves towards the door — towards that unknown fate — and catches herself almost being moved when he stops to tell them his name. As if they might get a chance to use it, after all this. It shows as a muted shift in her expression, a subtle softening that she conceals by glancing away to exhale a mouthful of cigarette smoke.

Quietly: ]

Good luck, Rex.

[ Poe relaxes visibly, and leans back against the wall, crossing his arms and ready for a long wait. ]

Good to see you, Rex. We'll be right here when you come out.

[ Said with utter certainty, though he paused. ]

Unless we're outside shooting people because they tried storming this place, but. Either way.

Good luck.

[ She exhales audibly when the door closes behind Rex, sagging against the wall a little and closing her eyes for a second. This fucking day. It's been a shitshow from start to finish. She's really getting too old for this. Hell, and they're not even out of the woods yet.

After a moment, she glances over at Poe: ]

Is this going to happen every time we run into a desperate stranger? [ Dryly: ] Or is it just because he's tall and handsome?

[ It was telling, that the joke didn't even earn a twitch from his lips. ]

I know I can't fight every battle, let alone win them.

But this one we could fight. And we can win it. So it's worth it.

[ His answer is sobering. Maybe Andy's nobler instincts have been dulled by centuries of cynicism — all those wars she's fought, all the good people she's outlived — but they're there, and she understands, even if some weary part of her might prefer not to. There's an ease akin to relief in having made the choice, despite choosing the harder path, and it loosens a little something in her chest, some small fragment of all that weight she carries around inside of her.

Sometimes she's so tired of fighting — sometimes it feels like the same repeating patterns, over and over again, no ground gained for all the blood spilt — and sometimes it feels like there's no point to all her strength, all her skill if she doesn't fight to make some kind of difference. Doing it for money, for the thrill, for an end in flames — it's a high that fades faster than she can chase it. But the small, steady quietness inside her right now...

She won't argue. Instead, a bit dryly: ]

You keep saying that. We. Us. [ She glances away again. ] Like it's going to be you, me, and him against the galaxy or something.

[ He stepped over to her, lips still in a frown, and reached into her jacket before she could stop him to grab her pack of cigarettes and her lighter. He pulled one out, lit it for himself, and then handed her stuff back.

A long drag.

Then a shrug. ]

What, like it isn't already?

It was me against the galaxy before. I don't have a problem with not being alone, for it.

[ A light scoff — and a sidelong glance, as he helps himself to her cigarettes. She'd reprimand him, but hell, not much point in fronting right now, is there? ]

It doesn't have to be. [ She exhales and closes her eyes, settling into her seat for the long wait. ] But it's all fucking academic at this point. We have to make it out of here first.

[ She can feel how tired her body is. Or is it an emotional kind of weariness? It's been a day full of ups and downs, and she can barely tell the difference anymore. Maybe she'll just rest a little while, just to make sure she's as braced for their escape as possible. Won't be the first time she's slept sitting up in a strange place anyway. ]

Wake me up if something goes wrong, will you.

[ He walks over to the other wall, leaning against it so he can see the entrance as well as the door that Rex left through. ]

Yeah. Don't worry, I couldn't sleep if I tried, and you're way better at punching things than I am.

So I'll keep watch, and yell if anything goes down.

[ They don't see Rex for hours. It's not that the procedure itself takes hours - though it certainly takes a good long time; it's brain surgery, after all - but there's a reasonable amount of recovery time before Rex is up and running again, and even then, he's been warned about the temporary side effects. He may be disoriented for some time, may find his balance damaged from the procedure, may need to sleep more than he's used to. In other words, even if he did get off this dustball of a planet alone, he would have been high and dry afterwards.

Despite all of that, Rex refuses to stay down for long, and all for the better: the Kaminoan wasn't willing to house him for that long either. He staggers out of the room, looking unsteady but otherwise healthy, a large patch of his head completely shaved - he'll shave the whole thing when he gets the chance on account of the fact that he looks kriffing ridiculous - with a bandage laid on it, the hint of stitches peeking out from either side, and a box held in his hands.

He blinks when he sees Poe and Andy. Still there. He hadn't expected otherwise, not after their insistence on the matter, but a part of him is surprised anyway. ]

Well, [ he says gruffly, ] I survived. Hello.

[ Andy's been awake a little while now, but it isn't until Rex reappears that she actually opens her eyes. She gives the clone a blatantly skeptical once over — he doesn't look steady on his feet yet, and the hair or incomplete lack thereof would warrant mocking in less dire situation. But he did make it. Somehow she'd known he would. Better to call it intuition than hope. ]

Well, you definitely look like someone opened your head up. [ She gets up from the chair where she's been resting, nodding at Poe to come around Rex's left side and she approaches from the right to put a steadying arm around him. ] I hate to fucking press you, but if you can move, we should go. The longer we stay, the worse our chances get, and who knows if the patrols have found the ship yet or not.

[ Poe doesn't need a huge amount of instruction, already half way up by the time Andy motions to him, sliding up to Rex's left side and putting an arm around him, just under Andy's. ]

The streets have been pretty quiet, but that might just mean they're waiting for anyone to dare leave their homes. Or, you know. They're tearing my ship apart from the inside out.

[ Rex startles a little when both of them suddenly sidle up to him. He hasn't let anyone - save for the Kaminoan - touch him in a very long time and it's a little odd how foreign it feels after a lifetime of gestures exactly like this. He decides against protesting. It wouldn't be taken well. ]

I can move, [ he says, glancing between the two of them. ] And I can fight, if it comes to it. Being unsteady on my feet won't affect my aim. I've fought through worse.

[ Probably. ]

[ He moves well enough. They make it. Somehow. Either wild luck or incredible skill or some ridiculous combination of both. Then Rex gets to actually rest, while Poe and Andy do something entirely too close to making love for comfort. Afterward, she dozes on and off in her new quarters before finally dragging herself out of bed. She pulls on her underwear and Poe's shirt before wandering out, intending to check on her wounds and make some caf. She isn't going to think too hard about the fact that she's committed to a position on this ship — that she's actually going to stay, even though it's a terrible idea when all three of them are blatantly outlaws now, which definitely makes them a bigger target together than apart.

Yeah. Definitely not going to unpack any of that right about now.

She helps herself to the little kitchenette, brewing up some caf and setting out first her own mug. Then one more. And then a third. Fuck it. Might as well. ]

[ Poe wanders in half way through her pouring the third cup, his hair tousled in that way that only he can manage, a ration bar sticking half way out of his mouth. He grabs the end, bites a piece off, grabs a cup of caf with his free hand, and then throws himself down on the nearest chair. ]

So. I plotted a course to Dantooine. Figured we can lay low there, maybe pick up a few supplies, test the waters to see just how loud a splash we made with that escapade. We won't pick up any work there, probably, but we can afford a couple rest stops with the fee that Rex paid us.

[ When they'd all gotten to the ship, Rex must have either grown to trust the two scoundrels who'd been stupid enough to help him or he must have been too exhausted to care, because he toppled into a cot as soon as one was provided to him. It's been a long time since he's slept so easily in a foreign place.

But, Rex reflects as he gets up, maybe brain surgery will just do that to you. He lingers a little longer than he should before leaving, get his thoughts together - where are they? what happens next? what is his purpose now that this is done? how can he repay this debt? - and peeling off a corner of the bandage on his head so he can prod at it in the mirror.

Eventually he seals it back down and pads through the ship until he finally finds the other two, and -- little gods, she's half-dressed -- ]

Ah. I didn't mean to interrupt --

[ He's already taking half a step out because he's clearly interrupting something, even if that something is completely unsurprising. ]

You're not. [ Andy responds promptly with a slight raise of her eyebrows. ] Actually, you should probably hear this. We were talking about heading to Dantooine for supplies and news.

[ As if it's perfectly normal for her to be discussing important plans without her pants on — which isn't really too far from the truth. She has gotten pretty comfortable on this ship, and she probably splits time evenly between being dressed and undressed while aboard. Utterly unselfconscious, she passes the last cup of caf over to Rex before going on with a mild wryness: ]

If we're lucky, we're not too famous yet.

[ Poe, at least, is fully dressed - even if his hair is tousled, and he replies in exactly the same instant and tone as Andy: ]

You're not.

[ He lets her finish telling Rex what's up, and then he continues: ]

There's a small core of uh - like-minded folk there. They won't want to meet with us, obviously, but I have a drop point I can leave messages for them, at. So if you want, I can leave a short encoded note there to see who we should be trying to get this info to. Or we can just bunk down and wait until we're a little less visible on the Empire's radar.

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DOIN' THAT TIME SKIP

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