Chapter Text
Thick leather collides with Cal's back, loud crack echoing around the small, dusty room the bounty hunter dragged him into. Cal involuntarily flinches when the whip is cracked before it is brought down across his bare skin again. Despite clenching his jaw until his teeth hurt, a pained groan slips out. Cal doesn't want to give his captor the satisfaction of hearing the pain he's in, but it's no easy task. The force of the hit makes Cal jolt forwards, bound wrists aching from the additional weight put on them.
The force blocking cuffs - Cal really wondered where this bounty hunter got them - have been attached to a metal rafter by a chain. It's been pulled taut, making it impossible for Cal to put his heels down without potentially dislocating his shoulders. The only upside of the entire situation is that the cuffs prevent Cal from experiencing the no doubt horrible memories the whip is drenched in.
The bounty hunter had called this revenge for what Cal had done to his ship and his partner. Cal gets the feeling he was going to do something like this either way. People don't usually walk around carrying whips for no reason. The datapad set up on a crate, light indicating that it's recording, says a lot about what kind of person the bounty hunter is as well.
The next hit catches Cal off guard, managing to wrench a scream from him as the sharp, weighted tip of it cuts into Cal's upper arm.
The situation isn't hopeless. BD managed to run before Cal went down and the bounty hunter's ship sustained enough damage during the fight that it's at risk of exploding. The bounty hunter commed Sorc Tormo, but it'll take a while for someone to come pick them up. If Cal's lucky, he'll get an opportunity for escape before that.
Cal attempts to force his body to relax as he anticipates the next blow, knowing getting hit over tensed muscles only hurts worse. No hit lands. Instead, the bounty hunter circles around Cal, coming to a halt in front of him.
Using the curled up whip, the bounty hunter nudges Cal's chin up. Half of his face is covered by a visor, making it hard to tell what species he is. The lower part of his face is uncovered, which looks like it could be human. A pleased smirk is spread on his lips.
"It's a shame I've got to give you up, you're fun," he hisses. "Sorc Tormo isn't one to share what he owns with just anyone, but for you, I'm sure he'll be open to making an exception." The bounty hunter lowers the whip, grabbing Cal's face instead.
Cal knows better than to value his dignity in these situations, so he tries to bite the hunter's hand. He's too quick, yanking his arm back, but Cal uses his momentary distraction to pull himself upwards on the chain enough to kick at his captor. He lands a solid hit, getting a surprised grunt out of the man when Cal's boots collide with his chest.
The small victory is short lived, the bounty hunter quickly recovering and slamming his shoulder into Cal's chest before punching him in the stomach. Cal's body wants to double over, but with his hands chained above his head the attempted motion strains his shoulders and wrists. Groaning weakly at the sharp pain that's slowly fading to a persistent throb, Cal struggles to get good footing again.
His effort is in vain, whip striking him again a split second later and leaving him unbalanced once more.
"You'll pay for that," the bounty hunter snarls. "Sorc Tormo wants you alive, but he made clear you don't have to arrive unharmed. I'll get paid just as good if I drop you at his feet with your back shredded."
Multiple blows land in quick succession, making Cal tense. The bounty hunter laughs at the noises that break past Cal's clenched teeth, leaving an uncomfortable knot in his stomach. He's had too many bad experiences with people like this one to fight the pit of dread settling under his ribs.
Some of the blows start splitting Cal's skin, the sticky, warm feeling mingling with the burning sensation. Tears threaten to fall across Cal's cheeks as he presses his eyes closed. BD's the best droid that Cal knows, if anyone can make their way back to the Mantis and get help, he can. Cal just has to trust in him. In the meantime, he will just have to endure the discomfort.
The bounty hunter has more no doubt extremely well practised and insulting comments to make, but Cal doesn't care to listen. Creativity isn't any of these hunter's best skill, it's always the same things with them. It would be nice if they could vary it up for once, maybe go after his choice of clothes instead.
"Beat the fight out of you already?" The bounty hunter laughs, making Cal roll his eyes.
It's a bad idea to give in to that provocation, but Cal's pretty good at not keeping his mouth shut when he should. His attempt to reply gets cut off when his captor hits him again, the leather knocking the air out of Cal's lungs, leaving him gasping in pain.
He makes the decision to grit his teeth and keep quiet no matter what from then on. Cal gains nothing from arguing with the man holding a whip.
The bounty hunter almost settles into a rhythm, striking Cal so regularly the redhead can count to anticipate the pain. Blocking everything else from his mind, Cal does just that, counting quietly to himself. Cal doesn't keep track of how often he's struck, only how long he'll have to wait for the next.
Then, the rhythm falters. The whip is cracked, but it never touches Cal. Instead, a shot rings out, shaking Cal from his stupor. It came from behind him, commotion quickly following. Cal would love to turn, see if his situation just got worse or if BD got help, but the strain on his shoulders as well as his abused back is too much. So he waits, ready to try kicking anyone that approaches him if need be.
Cal clenches his hands, hoping to relieve some of the weight on his wrists a little as he waits. He can barely feel his hands any more, and Cal's certain he can feel blood flowing down his arm. Further shots are fired, Cal trying to make anything out in the commotion.
Out of nowhere, the chain holding Cal gives. Likely hit by a blaster bolt, he thinks, just as his body decides to give out on him. It seems those chains had been the only thing keeping him up. His knees hit the ground hard, just as a figure steps into Cal's blurred field of view. It doesn't take much for Cal to recognize him.
It's Greez, looking from side to side with a nervous expression across his face. It's strange to see him off the ship, even stranger to see him armed.
"You own a blaster?" Cal blurts out before his thoughts can start organizing themselves.
"That's your take away from this?" Greez hisses, steadying Cal by placing two hands against the front of his shoulders. "Of course I own a blaster, I used to take part in high-stakes gambling!"
Cal nods along to his words. That does sound like a reasonable explanation.
Now with his hands still cuffed but no longer extended above him, Cal can turn to the fight. It seems his friends got the drop on the bounty hunter, the man seeming heavily injured as he limps away from Cere. Cal steadies himself on Greez as he stands, ready to help Cere in any way he can.
“Don't,” Greez hisses, putting a hand on Cal's wrist. He's right of course, Cal would be useless to her now, hands still bound. But he feels bad. It's Cal's fault they even have to rescue him, he should have not been caught in the first place. Cal should at least try to help.
Before he can try argue, the bounty hunter's dropped a flash grenade, sending Cere reeling backwards and making Cal's vision fade into white suddenly. The bounty hunter's gone when Cal can see again. Cere's not letting her guard down, searching every dark corner of the room for him, but it seems he's decided to cut his losses and high tail out of there. It's all the same to Cal anyway, as long as the guy is gone.
A loud trill draws Cal's attention away from Cere and to the little droid that comes running up to him. Cal drops himself to his knees to greet his friend, despite Greez trying to keep him from doing so. Patting BD's head with his bound hands, Cal smiles.
“I knew you could do it buddy, thank you.”
BD reacts with initial excitement, glad to see Cal, but that is quickly replaced by a sorrowful whistle. His antennas are lowered behind his head until Cal can barely see them as BD comments that Cal is bleeding, that he's hurt. Cal laughs, a little weaker than intended.
“I'm fine, BD, nothing a stim won't fix.”
Not sounding convinced, BD starts dismantling Cal's cuffs. Greez huffs.
“A stim won't fix anything! Just cause you can't feel the damage, doesn't mean it's not there!” Greezs gesticulates wildly as he talks, dramatic as always.
“You know what I mean,” Cal replies, hissing as the first cuff comes off his raw wrist. He can feel it again, the Force. He can also feel just how damaged his wrists are, bruises already forming around the cuts the cuff left. “Besides, I can still feel things after taking a stim.”
Greez groans.
“Looks like we lost the bounty hunter,” Cere interrupts them, blaster still firmly in hand. “Cal, are you-”
“Doing great,” he cuts Cere off. He'd rather stop lingering in this small room and get back to them Mantis before Sorc Tormo shows up. BD undoes the second cuff with a triumphant trill, prompting Cal to tentatively rub at his sore wrists, hissing between grit teeth. “Thanks BD, you're the best.” Cal runs his hand across the droid's casing once more.
BD dispenses a stim for him, which Cal quickly uses before he can think about the needle too much. It spreads quickly in his veins, a flash of cool relief as the pain fades to the back of Cal's mind, clearing his head a little. He stands up, both Greez and Cere reaching to steady him, BD releasing warning beeps.
“Careful,” Cere says, hands wrapped around Cal's bicep firmly. Cal tries to wave off, but Greez isn't going to accept that easily.
“Kid, your backs a mess, don't push yourself,” Greez says, moving into Cal's field of view nervously. For someone involved in high stakes gambling for as long as Greez has been, he's surprisingly bad around even the smallest injury Cal sustains. It's hard to imagine someone like him getting involved with gangs. Cal would have laughed at the idea if he hadn't seen proof of the fact with his own eyes.
“A mess we can deal with back at the Mantis. I'd like to avoid ending up in an arena again, so we better get moving. The bounty hunter contacted Sorc Tormo.” Cal pushes past his friends, only for Cere to sling his arm across her shoulder before he can get far. He wants to argue, but the look Cere gives him leaves no opening to do so. Even if Cal doesn't need the help, even if he'd be fine walking on his own, it is nice not having to worry about falling over.
Despite the aid, it's a long walk back to the Mantis. Time seems to stretch on as Cal fights the urge to give into pain and exhaustion. Throughout his life, Cal's experienced far worse than this. It shouldn't be so difficult for him not to cause a fuss. And yet, Cal is left gritting his teeth and inhaling in short gasps when they get to the Mantis.
Cal's a little surprised when Cere doesn't take him to the engine room, instead steering them towards the living area and helping Cal lay down on the couch. It makes no difference to Cal, though he is a little glad to not walk the extra few meters leading to the rear of the ship.
Attempting to argue against the offered medical aid falters, so Cal gives in, letting his head rest on his folded arms. Cal knows better than to get too comfortable with Cere and Greez's generosity, but at the very least, he'd say he can trust them. They haven't tried to kill him yet, even if they'd both kept secrets from him. He may not be entirely on speaking terms with Cere or fully understand her, but Cal can be civil. He's had to be civil with far worse people on Bracca.
BD-1 jumps up in front of Cal, nudging Cal's head. Cal's about to tell his friend to get off the potolli-weave before Greez gets mad, but the Latero says nothing as he sits down next to the droid. Why Greez is even there in the first place is a mystery to Cal. Their captain and cook can't stand the sight of injuries.
Cal flinches as a wet towel is passed over his upper back, instinctively trying to squirm away. He'd been doing rather well at keeping his mind off the pain, a task that is complicated significantly when someone's touching his injuries. Cere apologizes.
“It's fine,” Cal forces past grit teeth, hoping Greez can't see his strained expression from where he sits.
Things go a lot smoother from then on, Cal keeping his eyes trained on BD, listening to the small droids chatter and encouragements. The stim's worn off a while back, but despite that, Cal remains almost composed. At least the tears gathering in his eyes when Cere begins to disinfect his torn skin don't fall.
Breathing starts feeling a little easier when bacta is spread on his back. Cal can almost fully support his weight when he needs to sit up and have his chest wrapped. He gives it a few moments to start working, dulling the pain to a manageable ache, before he tries to stand.
Even as his legs shake, Cal manages to keep upright, satisfied grin crossing his face. It isn't much of an achievement. On Bracca, Cal would have had to deal with the same injury without bacta and be able to get up before sunrise the next morning. Now there's even less time to waste, so Cal should occupy his time wisely. Perhaps he can check over BD-1, tend to any potential damage.
“Where are you going?” Greez asks. Cal shrugs, waving in the direction of the engine room. The Latero narrows his eyes. “You're not going to sit at that work bench again, are you?”
Cal doesn't answer him. Greez should know that they can't waste time.
“Would it kill you to take a break?” Greez sighs, getting up off the couch.
“I have better things to do, and I did just take a break.” Cal leaves out that, whilst slowing down wouldn't kill him, it might cause harm to others. Greez should be aware of that too.
“That doesn't count.” Rubbing a hand across his face, Greez starts walking towards the cockpit where Cere disappeared to. “I'm not saying you have to stay out here, but could you at least get back on the couch until I got the Mantis in hyperspace? We don't need you concussed on top of everything else as well.”
Once again, Cal debates arguing, but Greez does have a point. Cal likely wouldn't get to the engine room in the time it took Greez to get the ship going. He might as well stay here, for efficiencies sake. The fact that his body is screaming at him to lay back down before he falls down didn't factor into this decision, at least that's what Cal tells himself.
Greez stays in the vicinity until Cal's gingerly laid stomach down on the couch again, giving him a thumbs up and a smile before heading off. The gesture wasn't one used in Latero culture, but after Cal explained it, Greez got into the habit of using it from time to time, usually directed back at Cal.
The exhaustion hits Cal with its full ferocity when he lets his face touch the soft surface beneath him. He should have known giving in to it was a mistake, but it's too late to change that choice now. BD decides to use Cal's unfortunate decision against him, hopping back up on the couch and settling near Cal's head. With quiet, content chirps, BD lets Cal know that he's glad he's alive, even if damaged. Cal's laugh is drowned out by the jolt of the Mantis entering hyperspace.
He doesn't notice that his eyes had fallen shut until a hand on his head startles him. Cal blinks at the sight of Greez in front of him, wondering how he got out of the pilots seat so quickly. “Didn't mean to disturb you,” the Latero says, “just thought you could use this.” There's a pillow in Greez's lower hands.
Cal's glad to accept the item, muttering his thanks weaker than intended. Reaching for the pillow causes Cal to wince, skin on his back pulling painfully, so Greez helps him manoeuvrer it under his head. It's not Cal's usual pillow, the shape is slightly different, but it's just as soft. The cover smells clean, better than anything on Bracca ever smelled. Now that Cal's not laying on his arms any more, BD nudges his hand until he holds the droid a little closer. Cal smiles. Anyone that claims droids can't have real personalities clearly hasn't met BD yet.
Eyes half-lidded, Cal listens to Greez's footsteps moving around the living area. There are a hundred better thing Cal could be doing than laying here, but all hope of him getting up has been shattered by the exhaustion in Cal's treacherous body. BD-1 and Greez weren't helping much either.
The captain decides to take the shards of Cal's conviction to get moving, be useful, and obliterate them further by draping a knitted blanket – one that Greez made - over his legs and sitting down next to him. Setting their portable holoprojector up and a plate with various fruit down on the table, Greez sits in silence for a moment.
“I'm sorry about the bounty hunters, kid. That sick bastard wouldn't have been after you if-”
“Don't.” Cal lifts his head just enough to look at Greez right. “This stopped being about you when I was put in that arena.” He's not sure if that's entirely true, but Cal knows there's truth to it. He's personally pissed off Haxion Brood's leader and they'd keep hunting him whether Greez is his friend or not. And Cal doesn't want Greez to keep blaming himself. If Cal had been careful enough, he wouldn't have let any bounty hunter capture or subdue him. He's where the real blame lies.
It doesn't quite look like Greez believes Cal, even if he nods. “Just say if you need something, okay?” After another moment of silence, Greez finally turns back to the holoprojector.
He puts on a Latero show, though he lets it play in its galactic basic translation, seeing as Cal is too tired to read subtitles. Cal would have been fine with Greez watching in any language he wants, but appreciates the sentiment. It's a both dramatic and comedic show, Cal gathers, about small town life and a Latero medic adjusting to having moved there from a larger city. Greez tries to keep Cal up to date on all the relationships – who's dating who, who has rivalries going, who just found out they'd been cheated on – but Cal struggles to follow, having to ask a lot of questions. At least Greez doesn't seem to mind answering them.
Despite the pain reducing Cal's appetite, he ends up picking his favourite berries off the plate Greez prepared as they watch. He doesn't see much of Cere, as it's become usual recently, but she brings Cal tea at some point, commenting on the show their watching.
“Can't believe you dragged Cal into watching that with you,” she laughs, shaking her head as she leaves.
The show is amusing to watch, most of all because how invested Greez is. In the end, Cal forgets that he should feel bad for being useless and lazy, ending up wanting to know the fates of the characters in the show as well.
After having fallen asleep, Cal wakes up a few hours later to find that Greez hadn't watched on with out him. BD informs him of the fact, sounding like he's gained an interest in the show as well.
Despite having slept for far too long already, Cal remains on the couch for a little while longer, letting his eyes fall closed once more.
When a day later an unknown comcode sends them a suspicious video file, nobody's stupid enough to open it, but Cal knows exactly who sent it and what it contains. Maybe the content should bother him, but he can't bring himself to care.