Yavin IV

[idontneedluck]

The air outside the ship is so wet, at first Chirrut thinks that someone has draped a wet towel over his head. Eadu, or what little he encountered had been drivingly wet, but this is somehow more pervasive, almost a more alive sort of wetness.

It is also infinitely more chaotic, and he stops at the edge of the stolen shuttle's ramp to try and get his bearings. This proves... difficult. The echos are ridiculous here.

Comments

[iprotectyou]

Baze is right behind him, and claps a firm hand on his shoulder. "It's just a world," Baze says, squeezing the bit of Chirrut he's gripping. Yavin 4 is intimidating to be sure, given that it's only Baze's second time off Jedha, but that won't stop him. "Nothing to be afraid of, my friend."

[idontneedluck]

"I am not afraid." Chirrut manages to scavenge up a fair amount of scorn for this notion, and his posture straightens. "I am lost. We are... in a cave?" There's something above them, something heavy that dampens the sound that rebounds off of it, but there's freer air off to the right. Cave is his first instinct, but why would they land in a cave? Why would all of these people be in a cave? Experimentally he scuffs a foot along the ground - the floor is smooth, smoother than natural, like paving stones.

[iprotectyou]

Baze laughs at Chirrut--his Chirrut--and his posturing, like a lothcat rubbed the wrong way.

"No, we are under a temple," Baze says, looking around at all the hustle and bustle of a fully-operational Rebel camp. "The planet is orange, but the temple is largely brown and green, with a lot of plants around."

He cups Chirrut's elbow, leading him off the ramp. "Over here they are preparing the ships. Do you smell the fuel? There is food to the left of us. Some meat dish, probably, you can smell it better than I can."

[idontneedluck]

He perks up, momentarily, at 'temple' - but no, that odd resonance that he knows from kyber isn't here, other than the fading sense of the crystal Jyn keeps hung around her neck.

"The fuel is... strong, but the plants, that is stronger, almost like dust at..." He stumbles over the word 'home', manages to swallow it before it makes an appearance... bitter as its taste is. "There are not just humans here." It's almost a question, but he has enough confidence to make it a statement - mostly humans, more humans than on Jedha, but still, there are feet that do not move to a human rhythm, the slide of scales and feathers and other things more sinuous, voices that do not fall in a human pitch.

Trusting in Baze's lead, he walks confidently, head turning to catch nuances of smell and sound, the way the breeze filters in from the outside world.

[iprotectyou]

"There are more than humans here," Baze confirms, steering Chirrut towards the food stalls. "There are many species I have not yet seen, being from a largely desert planet like Jedha. A Mon Calamari, with his brown, bulbous head and large, yellow eyes--he looks most like a fish. And another which I don't recognize, who waddles when they walk. Their heads have a long, thin plate extending back from their skull, and their face is flat. Their teeth are short and sharp, and their mouth is wide."

Baze gestures with two fingers to the human and the Sullustan running the food stall, and releases Chirrut's elbow to pick up the two kebabs of food--one in each hand. "Here, I have food for you. Meat on a stick," Baze says, pressing the back of the stick onto Chirrut's hand.

[idontneedluck]

Chirrut works on picking species out of the crowd as they're described, the familiar pattern of words making the space around him less chaotic and giving him a place to stand.

He catches hold of the stick without fumbling, curiously sniffing at the meat and its unfamiliar blend of spices. With a shrug, one that still after all of these years doesn't quite match his frame, he carefully nibbles on the offered food.

Nibbling becomes something more like 'wolfing down' when he discovers the meat is juicy and quite tasty, and re-discovers that he hasn't eaten a proper meal in almost a day.

"You have some?" He asks before starting on the second half, to make sure Baze is taking care of himself as well. "I would have to find the medical wing myself if you faint from hunger, and who knows how many walls I would 'accidentally' knock your head into along the way."

[iprotectyou]

"Of course," Baze says, with a rumbling sigh. He doesn't say anymore while he scarfs down his food, and holds up two more fingers to the food stall runners. He effortlessly plucks Chirrut's empty stick out of his hand and replaces it with a fresh one. "This is good."

After a third kebab, Baze finally slows down enough to enjoy it. He cups Chirrut's elbow again, just letting him know that he's still there. "So, shall we go find that medical wing? Or is there someone you want to eavesdrop on?"

[idontneedluck]

Chirrut's attention snaps to Baze with sudden ferocity (and though he'll never admit it, more than a touch of panic).

"Are you hurt?" He demands, the empty kebab stick hitting the ground as he twists to run his hands over Baze's frame, probing and insistent. He didn't hear any falter in Baze's gait, no hitch of breath or hesitation in movement, but he also knows that Baze can be infuriatingly stoic.

[iprotectyou]

Baze catches Chirrut's hands, and brings them to his cheeks.

"No, my friend," Baze says, smiling under Chirrut's fingers, so he can feel the reassurance rather than just hear it. "Cassian told us to get checked out in the medbay when we arrived. Remember? There are certain immunizations these Rebels think we need."

[idontneedluck]

Chirrut squints at Baze suspiciously (a habit he picked up from Baze's face over the years) and after a long moment, settles back. He feels no shame over his reaction, though he knows that if anything, this problem tends to happen a little more often in the reverse.

It's not his fault. Baze worries like a mother hen with one chick.

"I was not listening. I knew you would do it for us." He admits, giving that face that is more familiar than his own a tap before letting his hands drop.

[iprotectyou]

Baze snorts. "Of course you weren't," he says, giving Chirrut's hand a squeeze. "You never listen. It's why I have to pull your impulsive ass out of trouble all the time."

Baze cups his elbow again, and asks the food stall runners for directions to the medbay. The huge man leads the smaller one towards the room, describing the various plants and species they run into along the way.

When Baze finally steers them into the medbay, he guides Chirrut to a bed and pats it, intending to have him sit down. The scents of bacta and disinfectant permeate the room like a miasma.

"Here, let's get checked out. I assume you're not hurt?" Baze says, nudging Chirrut's shoulder, and hiding his twinge of panic at the thought.

[idontneedluck]

Chirrut pulls a wry face, waving his ungauntleted wrist and failing to seem terribly concerned at all as he hops onto it after judging the height.

"Knocked my wrist against a rock on Eadu in that last scramble. I'm fairly certain it's just bruised." It's part and parcel of his life for as long as he's known it - in unfamiliar territory, the Force's lead lets him move with confidence, but unintended bangs and scrapes just... happen. Mostly to him.

Chirrut wrinkles his nose at the astringent odors, feeling almost intolerably grungy next to this impeccable and nearly unnatural clean.

[iprotectyou]

Baze takes Chirrut's wrist in his massive, gentle hands, turning it over to get a better look at this bruising. He grunts, thoroughly displeased, brow furrowed. "Well, we can take care of that."

A Zeltron woman with a clipboard sashays up to them, smiling. "Hello," she says. "Are you here to be checked out?"

"Yes, please," Baze says, looking her over. He settles on the bed next to Chirrut as she starts examining his wrist. "The person checking you over has red skin and blue hair. She is beautiful--nearly as tall as I am, and svelte. She looks almost human, but for the coloring."

[idontneedluck]

Chirrut leaves off huffing at Baze's fussing when she handles his wrist - her grip is sure, firm without being rough, almost on the edge of being impersonal - the way he'd judge if his bowcaster required repairs. Her fingers are dry, the cuticles rough when they drag against his skin, roughened by repeated washing.

"He flirts when he's nervous." He alerts the woman sotto voce, though not nearly soft enough to avoid being overheard.

He'd say this was a mistake. That'd be a lie.

"He worries about the needles."

[iprotectyou]

The woman laughs, and Baze scowls. He gives Chirrut a little shove, not hard enough to knock him over, but definitely enough to convey his displeasure.

"If you could see them, you'd be nervous, too," Baze says, working himself into a snit. "Needles are nasty."

"Unfortunately, we have to use them," the medical technician says, releasing Chirrut's wrist. "Have you two been vaccinated for Yavin 4's flora and fauna?"

"No," Baze says reluctantly, and nudges Chirrut again, just to nudge him.

"All right," the woman says. "How about a bacta patch for your wrist? That will take care of the scrape."

[idontneedluck]

"Thank you," Chirrut smiles, his aim slightly off but the intent still good, "That is very kind." His proffered wrist is captured again by those professional fingers.

Someone has to show that those from Jedha can have good manners, since someone else is being cranky.

And he definitely helps matters by snaking a hand up and tweaking one of Baze's twisted locks.

[iprotectyou]

"She is smiling at you," Baze informs Chirrut, while patting his knee. "I think she likes you."

The woman laughs again, and heads over to a counter across the room to gather supplies. She returns to wrap a bacta patch around Chirrut's wrist with all the professionalism her occupation demands, and then brandishes two syringes.

"Ugh," Baze says. "Here come the needles."

[idontneedluck]

Chirrut insists he's very likable while his wrist is wrapped, the odd pull of the bacta's slime against his skin a little distracting. Never mind now that smell is on his skin. Ugh, he'll need a good scrub after this.

"Baze, do you remember that brand new technician who came to help with temple physicals once? I think your vein was the first one she had ever attempted to draw blood from." He asks cheerfully, even if the tone rings a little hollow. He doesn't like needles any more than Baze does. They bite without any recourse for defense, sharp in sensitive skin. Better to ignore it than focus on the displeasure, however.

[iprotectyou]

Baze picks up on Chirrut's tone--of course he does--and takes his hand. "I remember," he says, making no effort to hide his sourness at the memory. "She must have poked me ten--no, twenty times. She got all her practicing done on me, because she only had to poke you twice, remember?"

Baze lifts his sleeve for the medical technician present, and she cleans off his inner arm with a cotton ball. She injects Baze with the prepared vaccination while he hisses in dissatisfaction.

"All right," she says, and sets the syringe aside on a table near the bed. "It's your turn. I'll need you to lift your sleeve."

Baze squeezes Chirrut's hand, offering silent support. "It won't be so bad," he informs his friend. "Why, she's even pretty when she's stabbing us."

[idontneedluck]

"Were you expecting her to become a ferocious beast?" He asks, incredulously, as he pulls up the voluminous sleeve over his right arm. He hears her snort of laughter, which coincides with the sudden chill of alcohol against his skin.
He'll give her credit, she's fast and sure with the needle. She's done before the burn of the vaccine truly registers.

[iprotectyou]

Baze shoves Chirrut again, this time with a little more force. "Of course not," Baze says, scoffing. "I just thought you'd like to know. She's wearing very little by the way."

The woman smiles warmly at them. "I don't have anything else for you. You're free to go."

Baze hops off the bed and takes Chirrut's elbow again. "Where to now?"

[idontneedluck]

"What, there weren't any other errands I missed out on?" He still doesn't feel that distinctive pull of the Force, the clarity of a fixed path. The extrovert in him wants to discover what life is like in this new place, while homesickness makes him long for a quiet corner away from the bustle of those who will never know what was lost.

"We should explore." He says, decidedly - he will miss Jedha until his dying day, but he is here now. "Unless you have already scared everyone off."

[iprotectyou]

Baze chuckles, and leads Chirrut out of the medbay. "The only one scary here is you," Baze says, heading to the shipyard that they first landed in. "What with that stick and all, I know I quake in my boots whenever I look at you."

Baze takes a meandering path through the kitchens and manages to get them kicked out due to tasting a soup without permission. He laughs and guides Chirrut to a rec room with gym equipment, where two beefy soldiers are working out.

"This room appears to be a makeshift gym," Baze says, starting to explain to Chirrut where they are when one of the soldiers interrupts.

"What's he doing in here?" the soldier says, pointing at Chirrut. "Blind guys have no place in a gym."

[idontneedluck]

"May the Force of others be with you." Chirrut intones, his gaze purposefully even more off-aim than it usually is, his posture tired, his attitude that of someone who actually decided he was, in fact, old.

Is it misdirection? Yes. Is this entirely fair? Nope. Does he care? Force, no.

He will gladly take the blame for teaching these two idiots a short class on judgement. And if Baze takes over the class first... well. More entertainment for him.

[iprotectyou]

The soldier snorts, and his companion puts down his weights to join him. "You some kind of Jedi or something?"

Baze offers him a dark look. "Be careful, my friend," he says. "You don't know to whom you speak."

"I can speak to him however I like," the soldier says, and then Baze throws the first punch.

[idontneedluck]

The crack of bone and muscle and skin on skin brings Chirrut's head up. He would sigh over the blatant stupidity of youth, but someone has to protect Baze's back. A heavy tread, an angrily indrawn breath there, to his right...

That breath is knocked back out again when Chirrut slams his staff into the second soldier's guts. The stick cuts a humming path through the air as he twists it back, up, and around to crack soundly against the soldier's temple, toppling him neatly.

"Some kind of Jedi." Chirrut huffs, seating himself on the fallen soldier's back. "That was hurtful."

[iprotectyou]

Baze allows the other soldier to throw a punch--not to hit him, mind, but at least to throw it. The crack of his jaw against Baze's fist is loud and thoroughly satisfying. Baze's knuckles swell with the force of it, but he pays them no mind as he ducks a wild swing.

An elbow to the throat sends the soldier sprawling to the ground, and Baze delicately places a foot on his chest. "You all right, Chirrut?" Baze says, barely winded.

[idontneedluck]

"If you are going to be punching people in the face, you need to start wearing gloves." Chirrut complains instead of answering the question. It's an old gripe, but it gets a workout every time Baze risks his hands for a good beating. "You're going to break your hand one of these days."

[iprotectyou]

"If I break my hand," Baze says, shaking out his fingers, "I'll take a breather from hitting people. I'll have to do the unthinkable and rely on you to hit them for me. I'm not looking forward to that, Chirrut, so I'll just not break my hand."

The soldier groans, and Baze presses his foot down to keep him from sitting up. "What do you think, Chirrut?" Baze says. "Are we done with these womp rats?"

[idontneedluck]

"..ear that, 'just not break my hand' he says. What do you think?" Chirrut is talking to his soldier-turned-comfortable-seat, who whimpers when poked. Chirrut grumbles and leaves off jabbing the man with his stick.

"Egh. I suppose we are. Do you think..." He stops, and cocks his head, ear toward the door.

"Um. Are... are you the two who came from Jedha with Captain Andor?" There's a rather bewildered-looking human rebel standing in the doorway, blinking at the pair of them.

[iprotectyou]

Baze steps off the soldier. "We are," Baze says, brushing his hands together. "Does Captain Andor need us?"

[idontneedluck]

Chirrut rises to his feet gracefully, twirling his stick back around.

"He means to go to Scarif." Like a clear bell tolling, he can sense the path of the Force again. The sense of purpose settles into his bones and brings a contented smile to his lips. "Whether they order him to or not." The rebel, startled, stares. Evidently the poor kid wasn't warned.

[iprotectyou]

Baze cups Chirrut's elbow and starts leading him to the shipyard again, bypassing the poor rebel along the way. "Then to Scarif we will go," Baze says, mirthful now that Chirrut has been cheered up. "Do you think we'll take the same ship?"

[idontneedluck]

"I hope not, but I fear it is so." The sense he has of a low-level fear pervasive among the rebels does not encourage him to think they will suddenly find the will to take on this challenge. "It smells of Imperials. We should find Jyn."

[iprotectyou]

Baze squeezes Chirrut's arm. "Good idea," he says, guiding them to the ship. "Where we find Jyn, we'll find Cassian. And that obnoxious droid."

The sense of fear is something Baze doesn't quite pick up on consciously, but he bristles at the Alliance members running around like chickens with their heads cut off.

[idontneedluck]

Chirrut chuckles at Baze, his Baze, puffing up like a lothcat sprayed with water. They're almost to the hanger when he pauses, and then nods, pulling away to settle on a discarded shuttle engine drive.

"She will be here, soon enough." He states definitively, finding a comfortable perch in the piping of the engine

[iprotectyou]

"Then we wait," Baze says, leaning on the hull of the ship. He picks at his nails, going so far as to bite a hangnail nearly broken from those punches he threw.

If Scarif is where they're going, then Baze will gladly go. He's not sure why they're going to Scarif, or why the rebels won't go with them, but he's ready for any and all challenges--with Chirrut at his side. He looks forward to protecting his friend, come what may.