They were birthed from the yawning mouth of the freighter hatch and into blinding light.
Dianthus winced, hissing quietly, and yanked their hood further in front of their forehead on a slight recoil and clench of teeth. The churn of thick, humid, warm air was a belch mingling with the stink of airship exhaust fumes and and cold, dry recycled air from within the cabin. She held her breath as they disembarked, and more importantly, held tightly onto the hand she had clasped in hers.
The contrast of their skin in the golden blush of daylight was equally blinding: a warm, rich copper to a cyanotic lichen, thin, paler stripes of clay and sienna sand clashing with sinuous vines of violet, gold, and red. Only the pattern was the same, almost a mirror, spotty and dappled changing to streaks.
She didn’t recognize this port in the daytime. That didn’t matter. It was just a layover. One more stop to further obfuscate their trail before she turned them towards Canto Bight. She squeezed her…friend’s…hand thrice in quick succession to signal him to follow, since it was loud as the smugglers began unloading cargo and all manner of workers, sailors, tourists, and locals badgered and mingled and fought for space across the docks.
“I’ve never heard of this place before, but it looks really expensive,” said Cato, keeping his hold on Dianthus’ hand firm while they walked. Really, she dragged him along as she often did, but he didn’t mind; he was good at keeping up, too. Having longer legs than her helped.
Brightly lit buildings and luxury speeders with finely dressed people. They looked out of place. And he felt out of place. Why had she brought him here? “How are we going to afford anything here?”
“It’s an Old Republic world vacation destination. Beaches, fascism turned capitalist, pilot academies. Ask the brochures. And we’ll get things the same way we afford everything. I’ll take care of it,” Dia answered, looking around for something. She paused just a moment in her bloody fucking shorter stride, legs jiggling and fingers of her free hand dancing with barely contained nerves. Her head pounded with every noise, and the light was so bloody bright. She’d had them going and going. They were out of place. She was, raggedy as always, which was hardly worth a thought normally, but remembering to ensure Cato appeared unnoticeable as well was taking all her patience and energy. The hems of his pants were wearing. Stains on his sleeve from a few drops of (stolen) food.
She needed to get him new clothes. Another bed and a bath. More meals. Another…special drink.
And it was so so bright.
“Just– hold on.”
She pulled them demandingly into the slant side of one glittering resort-style building, hunching against the side to chase was little shade was offered.
It was hard not to notice the way she squinted, even winced away from the bright lights all around them. He looked around, hoping he’d find something that he could use to help her. Luckily for him, he saw a near-human man passing by with a pair of sunglasses.
“Wait. Hold on, Dia,” he said, pulling against her grip to get her to stop and, eventually, let go. Practically skipping over to where the man was, Cato crossed his hands behind his back and gazed at him with doughy eyes. “Can I have your glasses?” he asked, voice echoing faintly with power.
“U-Uh … sure. Have them,” the man replied while handing the shades over. Cato quickly plucked them from his hand, ran back over to Dianthus, and handed them to her.
“Here, try these on. They should help.”
“What in the blast…” the changeling muttered, but took the object anyway. She turned it over and over, squinting at it, making the wings flap. “They have these at the Corner. But uglier. More fun too. I haven’t understood the purpose.” Her tired, squinting eyes went back to him, and she nodded towards the man that had wandered off again. “You’re good at that, you know.”
“You put them on,” he explained, seemingly not overly fazed by her lack of familiarity with such things, “It’ll help protect your eyes from bright lights.” A proud smile appeared on his face.
“At what? Getting people to listen? I’ve always been very good at it. Mother said it was my pretty smile.”
Haltingly, Dianthus did just that, trying to put the glasses on like one might a pair of lab goggles. At least she didn’t poke her eye out. Instead, her brows rose as they sat on her nose.
“That’s– odd. But it does help a tad. You made it better,” she told him, a quicksilver smile, there then gone, replying to his easy, proud one. Behind the shades, though, her exhausted gaze was sharp, analyzing as ever. She intended to discover his secrets, particularly those secret from himself; they were surely responsible for what haunted him.
But maybe not today.
“Your mother,” her voice curled strangely around the word, “was right. You do have a pretty smile.”
Her face and neck felt hot, and she tugged viciously at her hoodie collar. Damn beach world.
“Bloody hells, how do you stand this?” She waved at the sky above them, bluer than blue, full of seabirds and streamers, bright and golden gleaming with the occasional puffy white clouds floating slowly by.
Patches of deep mahogany spread beneath his cheeks, though he quickly looked away before Connie could get a good look. “Thank you,” he said.
He’d hardly noticed the balmy, damp air that smelled faintly of brine before she said something about it. “Oh, this? This is nothing,” he replied, thankful that the conversation had shifted to something other than his own features, “it’s much hotter back home. You must be from a cold planet.”
Dianthus barked one of her odd little litany of laughs, this one more acidic than joyous, not reaching her cold, tired eyes, showing extra teeth up to the gums. She flicked one hand, making a sign in the air, and smacked her skull soundly back against the building.
“No, no, actually, I…I don’t think it was! Cold, that is. Not where we were. It was…” Her smiling jaw slackened slightly, and her knuckles went whiter and trembling. “It was…Red. Wet. Thick. Mugging, I think is your turn of phrase? But not cold.”
She pushed off her rest and snatched off the sunglasses, stepping out of the shade into the sun where it knifed down. She turned her face up to it, grimacing into the sky, the sunlight hitting her pallid skin making her glow for how white it was, striped in colors.
“I was nine, the first time I saw the sun. That sun, I suppose, but any sun. Do you remember yours? I remember mine.”
“Muggy,” he corrected, watching her with a quirked brow as she removed the sunglasses and stared at the sun. He grimaced. Doing that for too long was likely to hurt her eyes, especially with how sensitive hers seemed to be.
Cato shook his head. “I can’t remember, not really. It isn’t something I ever really thought about, y'know? The sun was just … always there.”
His eyes caught sight of her fists tightening, the whitening of knuckles. That was enough confirmation for him that the memory of her homeworld, wherever that was, weren’t pleasant ones. He instinctively reached out to grab her hand, and offered a smile. “We’re going to experience new things together, right? New adventures.”
“How blessed a life, to always know the sun…” she whispered, dripping bitterness, reverence, wistfulness. Then Cato’s hand caught hers, and his pretty smile aimed her way, and it was too hot like this. Heat was flushing up her skin. The sun was the only culprit.
“Yes,” Dianthus agreed, louder now, back to her typical boast. She smiled back, threading their fingers and pulling him back into the shadows with her. She didn’t need the rapturous torment of sunlight; he brought a sunshine smile. “We’re going to have so many adventures, Cato. I’ve promised you, after all.”
Which lead them back to their current predicament.
“Well, I’ve never seen much or Corellia. Only been in and out a time or two. Shall we see what the fuss is before we go? Be proper…tourists?”
A steady, smoldering heat spread across Cato’s face again when she entwined her fingers with his, though he didn’t dare acknowledge it. It was the summer heat, no doubt. Right. Normally, he didn’t like the darkness very much, but with her, it wasn’t so bad.
“I’ve never been to Corellia, myself, so this will be fun!” he beamed, “Proper tourists it is! As long as we get some of those cute little keychains saying we’ve been here.”
After that, Cato gave her hand a gentle squeeze and started toward the nearest large building he saw. He’d always wanted to see the galaxy, and now he was finally going to have the opportunity. And with a new friend, too!