Private Clocked Out

[Varro]

A LIFE OF HIS OWN

Varro stepped through the doorway and waited until it had closed behind him before releasing the breath he'd apparently decided to hold sometime during the last few minutes of the meeting. It hadn't been a bad meeting. That was the strange part. There had been no accusation waiting for him. No list of failures. No carefully worded warning that he had disappointed someone. Ra'a'mah had wanted to discuss work, so they had discussed work. Cargo runs. Manifests. Schedules. The sort of things that had somehow become ordinary pieces of Varro's life over the last little while.

He was getting better at them, too. That still felt good. Varro adjusted the strap of the small satchel hanging from his shoulder and started down the corridor. One lekku shifted absently behind him as he replayed portions of the conversation in his head. There were things he could improve. There were always things he could improve. But there hadn't been anything disastrous. And now...

He was off. Varro's steps slowed. Not finished for the evening with another shift waiting for him in the morning. Not waiting around in case somebody decided they needed him. Not given a few hours in which he was expected to remain available. Actually off.

The young Twi'lek glanced down the corridor as though someone might suddenly emerge and correct the misunderstanding. Nobody did. "Right." He continued walking. That was good. Probably.

The problem was that Varro had become considerably better at figuring out what to do when someone handed him a cargo manifest than when someone handed him absolutely nothing. He could train. Shade had given him enough things to practice that he could probably occupy several hours falling onto a mat without embarrassing himself too badly. There was always something useful to read. He could review the next route. Check his equipment. Go over the transport's inventory again. All perfectly reasonable things to do. All of which sounded suspiciously like work. Varro frowned. Apparently freedom came with scheduling difficulties nobody had bothered to warn him about.

The property was certainly a pleasant enough place to be stranded with too much free time. Naboo was almost offensively beautiful compared with some of the places Varro had known. Even inside, hints of that elegance were everywhere: broad windows admitting warm sunlight, polished stone beneath his boots, architecture designed by people who apparently believed buildings should be attractive instead of merely functional.

He passed one of the windows and stopped. There were people outside going about their day. Some hurried with obvious destinations. Others very clearly did not. A couple walked together talking. Someone sat beneath the shade with a drink. A small group farther away seemed to be laughing about something that couldn't possibly have been important.

Varro watched them for a few seconds. Maybe that was what he was supposed to do. Something unimportant. His mouth twitched upward. "I am going to be terrible at this."

Varro turned from the window and resumed his walk, still considering the deeply complicated question of how a free young man was supposed to waste an afternoon. He rounded the next corner. And nearly walked straight into someone. Varro stopped abruptly, taking a quick half-step backward as his hands lifted instinctively.

"Sorry. I wasn't—" Recognition interrupted him. He hadn't actually met her before, but Ra'a'mah wasn't exactly secretive about the existence of her family. Varro had seen enough to make the connection, and there was more than enough resemblance for the last pieces to fall into place.

His posture straightened almost automatically. "Oh." For just an instant, all his thoughts about free afternoons disappeared beneath the considerably more familiar concern of making a good impression. "You're Sera." A beat passed before Varro added, with considerably more certainty, "Ra's daughter."

VARRO
• Location: A private residence/property owned by Ra'a'mah Numare, Naboo
• Objective: Figure out what to do with an unexpected stretch of free time.
• Outfit: Casual Clothes
• Company: Sera Dragovalor

 

[Sera Dragovalor]

Sera had been enjoying being home. There was something almost strange about how quickly the habits she'd developed elsewhere seemed to loosen once she was back on Naboo. No uniform, no commander waiting to see whether she'd understood the latest lesson, no need to wonder whether she was standing correctly or asking the right question. She'd traded all of that for comfortable clothes, her copper-red hair left loose instead of pulled back for training, and an afternoon in which she had nowhere in particular she needed to be. For once, Sera was perfectly content with that, even if some small part of her still occasionally insisted that surely there was something productive she ought to be doing.

Which probably explained why she wasn't paying much more attention to the corridor than Varro had been. She stopped short when he nearly walked into her, surprise flashing across her features as she took a quick step backward. Whatever irritation might have accompanied being nearly flattened never had the chance to appear. Instead, Sera blinked at the green-skinned Twi'lek with his hands raised between them, then gave a soft laugh once it became obvious neither of them had actually collided. "You're fine. I wasn't exactly watching where I was going either."

Her eyebrows rose when he said her name, and then climbed a little higher when he followed it immediately with Ra's daughter. Apparently, introductions were going to happen slightly out of order today. "That would be me," she confirmed, amusement warming her expression as she regarded him with considerably more curiosity than concern. "Although 'Ra's daughter' makes me sound suspiciously like I'm about to get you in trouble."

She wasn't particularly surprised that someone around the property knew who she was. Her mother had spent Sera's entire life knowing people, employing people, helping people, making arrangements with people, and occasionally leaving Sera wondering exactly when she'd found the time for half of it. Ra had taught her plenty over the years, though rarely by sitting her down and explaining every detail of her business or everyone involved in it. Sera had learned instead to watch, listen, ask when something concerned her, and accept that there were things people had every right to keep for themselves. Whoever the young Twi'lek was, however, he knew her mother, Sera, wasn't going to pretend she knew more about him than she actually did.

She offered him her hand, the easy smile remaining as she completed the introduction he had inadvertently started. "Sera Dragovalor, officially this time." Her gaze settled on him expectantly, and there was a hint of teasing in her voice when she continued. "And since you already have an unfair advantage, I think I at least get your name."

There was something pleasant about the whole encounter, really. At Aurora Station, she was Private Dragovalor and, increasingly, Laphisto's apprentice, with all the expectations that came attached to both. Here she could simply be Sera, standing in a familiar corridor after almost colliding with a stranger who somehow already knew exactly who she was. She found she rather liked the difference.

Varro