Wonder Years

Cirr nodded as he drank, the ice clinking in his glass as it tilted.

"Famjily jis jimporrtant to me. Sanjis won't admjit jit, but that's because he doesn't underrstand jit. He's neverr had one. jI'm the closest he's got to jit. We arre..."

He paused, idly scratching behind an ear as he tried to parse between Cizeri and Basic.

"jei'shearr' e' aallie'arr...ehhh...brrotherrs would be the closest terrm. Orr maybe two husbands to the same wjife."

Embarassed for speaking his mind a little too much, Cirr finished his drink, chewing on some ice.

"A metaphorr forr the ljife we ljive maybe. We'rre both marrrjied to jit."

Ben was getting visibly more morose as first the Cap’n and then Cirr started talking about family. He sniffled as he refilled first Lyanie and then Cirr’s glasses with whiskey, and then filled his own with some as well.

“Lyanie,” he said, turning to the mechanic. “You’ve been around, eh? What’ve you been up to since... you know, then? Took a big tour of the galaxy, I’m thinking?”

She looked down at the full glass when it was sent back to her, looked up and smiled in appreciation at Ben, then back down at the glass. The smile, for the most part, disappeared. And Lyanie was about as quiet as she had been all evening, thus far.

"Well..." She looked up again and blinked. "... I actually visited my parents back on Dantooine."

The thought of them made her smile, but it faltered with the next words.

"And my sister. She was there." That thought was enough to make her take a drink, a long pull from the glass before settling it between her hands on the tabletop. She swallowed and gasped with satisfaction from it. "Nothing changed much since I'd been away. Mom and Daddy were all over me, so happy to see me. Like I'd died or something. And Benita... has not changed. I love my parents, but I didn't stay very long."

It didn't take very long for her to change the subject. She changed speeds real fast, plastering a smile back on her face and taking another sip at the whiskey. She could easily get carelessly drunk on that tangent if she didn't pay attention.

"I'm an honest-to-goodness certified engineer. Like, designing and building ships and their engines. I did contracted work there, but still the same old mechanic stuff along side. I wanted to make beautiful ships, beautiful engines, but I wasn't happy in the big cities, big corporations. Guess you really can take the girl outta the farm, but you can't take the farm outta the girl. Anyway, where I am now, getting down and dirty and greasy, getting my hands in there is where I'm happy. All those newfangled engines just don't have the beauty of what's tried and true, what we're all sitting on, right here."

Her smile turned proud, then. "She's my girl. She gets the job done."

Listening to the others, Barton felt a sudden sense of displacement. Lyanie had always been a nuts and bolts kind of girl, and her love of her work was evident in everything she did. Ben, he couldn't picture doing anything but flying. Henning himself, however... well, he wasn't a ships captain by choice. The Knightfall ran smoothly, but was that more on account of the crew than the man leading them? The thought turned him inward, and he feel silent, the conversation flowing on around him as he looked for answers in the scuffed table they were all huddled around.

"You say you djid otherr worrk beforre the warr Captajin?"

Cirr filled up his glass again, this time with port, passing it along for the Captain on it's journey around the table.

As the bottle slid his way, Henning looked up, pulled out of his introspective.

“Before and during.” He nodded, pouring out another meagre measure of the port.

“I ran my own clinic and surgery on Cloud City. Not a very profitable business, but.. it helped a few good souls, at least.”

Cirr's expression brightened a bit.

"A Doctorr? An honorrable prrofessjion on my planet. As a mechanjic jI can sorrt of jidentjifjy wjith that. That desjirre to help otherrs jis harrd to fjind. Always a good thjing when you do."

Henning nodded faintly. He took another drink, mindful that too much of the port would not end well.

“Cloud City was, and still is to my knowledge, neutral ground. It gave us a chance to provide some relief to any Rebels who might come by, without fear of reprisal... though we also patched up our fair share of Imperials and Empire sympathisers too.”

Cloud City. Now there was a place she hadn't stepped foot on in a while. It wasn't her kind of place, really. Too little nature. Which begged the question over why she wasn't bothered with being cooped up in a ship all the time. It was a question of planets. It wasn't her kind of planet. Ships just made her happy and that was an entirely different thing, altogether.

"So, Chief. Why the change? What made ya leave the good doctorin' to gallavant around the stars with us?"

Lyanie took another good sip of the whiskey and let it sit in her mouth for a few moments before swallowing. Savour the flavour.

Ben nodded, seemingly over his bout of melancholia. “Yeah, Cap. You’ve got that whole brooding and mysterious thing goin’ for ya, but I’m curious why you’d leave such a nice safe job for this one.”

Ben almost took another sip of his whiskey before realizing how his statement might have sounded.

“Not that I ain’t glad for it, Cap’n,” he backtracked, “Couldn’t be flyin’ for a better guy. But the spacer’s life ain’t one that most people choose out of desire, or stick with once they find out what it’s like. Course, then there’s the crazies like me who really don’t care about doing anything else. Lyanie's not crazy, but I figure she’s got at least a couple bolts loose up there.”

He grinned teasingly at Lyanie.

If ever there was a sore subject, that was it. Why he'd left Cloud City and the relative normality he'd made for himself was all down to a part of himself that Henning wasn't comfortable bringing to the table, not yet anyway.

“Got myself into a little trouble with the law,” Barton answered, the last of his words spoken half into his glass as he lifted it to take another drink.

Cirr bobbed his head knowingly as he paused to sniff at the port.

"Ajin't that a famjilljiarr tune. jIf my mama knew half of my rrap sheet, boy jI'd prrobably neverr hearr the end of jit."

He paused in the midst of his comment, somehow getting the feeling that the ol' doc was still dealing with it in a way.

Ben almost giggled, but admirably refrained from doing so.

“Actually, I used to be the law,” he said, taking the last of his whiskey down, and looking around for the bottle again. “Though I don’t know if anyone ever took us seriously. We were pretty dysfunctional, though we saved the city single-handedly about three times, at least.”

"My mother no doubt would be worried for my safety, but that's mom. She still loves me and I spare her about as much grief as I can manage by not letting her in on every little thing. Daddy, though.. he'd grill me. He's proud of me, even if he doesn't always let me know, outright."

She was relaxed, content at this table, throwing back drinks, trading stories, reminiscing. All with close friends, new friends... all family. Lyanie gently nudged the bottle of whiskey back to Ben, making sure it was right in front of him.

"Doesn't have to be perfect for it to work perfectly, now does it, Ben? I mean, look at this ship, for example. She ain't anything like a jewel, cosmetically, but she runs beautifully, with the right tee-ell-cee."

“Suppose you’re right, Lyanie,” he said thoughtfully. “We didn’t do a bad... well, we got the job done at least.”

He turned to Cirr. “So big guy,” he said, “You’ve been flying with... er, San... Sam... Samus for long?”

"Sanjis."

Cirr winced, conscious that he was correcting a mispronounciation with his own.

"Close enough."

With an easy smile, Cirr tipped back his port as he thought it over.

"We've been flyjing togetherr forr ejight yearrs now. Sanjis took me jin afterr jI...left my marrrjiage."

He sighed a bit at the thought of his past life.

"He taught me basjic, taught me most of what jI know as a mechanjic, and gave me an honest ljivjing, orr at least morre honest than jI was used to."

The big cat's smile was infectious, though Barton's didn't look quite so impressive without Cirr's mouth full of teeth. The crew of the Layla had an obvious comradeship, one that couldn't be bought or manufactured.

“He sounds like a stand-up guy.”

Cirr looked down at his hands knowingly.

"That's the fjirrst tjime jI've hearrd that sajid about hjim. Nobody else besjides me thjinks he's anythjing but trrouble. That sajid, we fjight morre orr less all the tjime too, but you know, ljike brrotherrs."

He looked at Barton.

"We've looked out forr each otherr forr so long, jI don't thjink we'd rreally know what to do otherrwjise. jI used to hearr forrda thjis and forrda that. Out herre, none of that matterrs, and jit shouldn't."

Lyanie listened, a fond smile on her face between sips, feeling resonance with the notion of being misunderstood. She had her own ill-informed opinions of Sanis Prent that she would keep to herself. She wasn't really mean like that, in any case and the man had never affronted her directly, or indirectly, to her knowledge.

"It was 'respectable' this and 'proper' that for me, but from my sister." She shook her head. "My mother agreed in a way, but not about how 'Nita went about it."

She herself looked at Cirr, unconsciously rubbing her thumb on the rim of her glass. "You're right. None of that matters out here. What matters is who's here, what's here and what we do when we're here and out there in the black."