Private The Broken Wheel

[Adelle Bastiel]

Contruum
Tags: Aurelian Veruna | Corazona von Ascania | Makko Vyres

For the love of Whills, why was the most useful person in that lift the one giving birth? Adelle couldn’t hear what the third voice coming over the comm was saying exactly but apparently it wasn’t anything that kept the situation calm. She clenched her teeth as she pushed the limits of Contruum’s speeder lanes.

Cora confirmed what Adelle dreaded: the baby was crowning. The timer was set.

She prayed to whatever cosmic powers that cared that Aurelian would get his act together.

“Adelle, I’ve never delivered a baby before. But I know that this is happening too fast. The contractions are coming—”

A suppressed cry of pain came from the comm’s speaker.

“Okay, Cora, I—”

The line clicked and for a moment there was silence before an automated voice helpfully informed her that she had been put on hold.

“Are you fething kidding me!” Adelle ground her teeth and took several deep breaths. This was already challenging enough having to give instructions over comms. Then there was Aurelian’s panic, the third voice escalating the situation, and now she was on hold. It was only a minute or two of driving to the spaceport in silence but it felt like an eternity.

Especially if Cora thought something was wrong.

She could see the spaceport in the distance as she rapidly approached when the comm-line went live again.

“Cora, when the next contraction comes, I want you to push,” she said, focusing on being the steady voice Cora needed. Aurelian and his panic would have to wait. “Bear down and focus on the birth canal when you push. When the contraction stops, relax, breathe, and wait for the next one. When you get tired, wait through a contraction before trying to push again.”

Adelle turned her attention to Aurelian who, hopefully, hadn’t passed out. “Aurelian, you’re going to need a clean, dry cloth for the baby when it comes. Use whatever you have on you, the child is going to need it.”

She paused ever so briefly. “Do whatever it kriffing takes.”

 

[Makko Vyres]

MAKKO

The bond between them burned hot and raw, a wire pulled tight through his chest as he tore through the corridors of the government complex.

His breath came sharp and uneven. His boots struck duracrete too hard as he followed the pull of her presence with ruthless focus. Every second stretched. Every second mattered.

There.The lift.

The doors remained shut. Above it, the pill light had turned red. Makko skidded to a halt in front of it, one hand slamming against the cold metal as another wave of pain rippled through the bond.

"Cora," he said under his breath, voice rough. "I'm here."

The Force surged in response, not calm, not measured, but fierce and desperate. He reached for Mechu Deru without hesitation, fingers splaying against the seam of the lift doors as his awareness plunged inward.

He could feel the machinery. The tangled systems. The stubborn mechanical failure that had chosen to wreak havoc upon the day.

His fear sharpened into resolve. Makko bent that resolve into the Force and drove it forward.

Circuits flared under his senses. Locks resisted, then screamed in protest. He poured himself into the mechanism.

The lift groaned as power rerouted under his will, metal shuddering as ancient failsafes buckled.

Then he had to drawn upon the Force in the most traditional manner. He wrapped his determination around the elevator guiding it down to the ground. He heard her voice.

"Open," he growled, teeth clenched.

The doors hissed and groaned and opened. His eyes were immediately on her.

Cora was on the floor, sweat slicking her hair to her temples, pain etched into every line of her face. Blood and amniotic fluid stained the lift floor. Aurelian was kneeling beside her, pale and wide eyed and utterly out of his depth.

Makko dropped to his knees in an instant, hands gentle but certain as they framed her face.

"I have you," he said, voice breaking despite himself. "I am here. You are not doing this without me."

The bond flared, relief crashing into him so hard it almost stole his breath. He pressed his forehead to hers, grounding them both as his hands slid down to grip hers tightly.

"Look at me," he urged softly. "Breathe with me. Just like we practised. I will not let go."

Then he lifted his head, eyes burning as he looked to Aurelian.

"Thank you," he whispered. "How far out is an ambulance?"

Cora's focus was hard to press again, but he tried to offer some small comfort down their bond as she carried on without pain relief.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora didn't process the flickering lights. She didn't process the way the way her husband's will forced the stubborn lift back into shuddering life, nor the slow, downward motion of the cab that would've felt like miracle in any other moment.

None of it quite hit her until she felt the familiar callouses of his fingers cradling either side of her cheek. Then, his brow pressing against her own. Sticky with sweat and worry, but blessedly, by her side.

"M-Makko," she rasped, a small, wavering laugh. She swept one hand through his dark curls, finding sweet salvation in the worried lines of his face "I must look a mess."

None of this had gone to plan. Cora wasn't supposed to be squatting in a lift, and Aurelian wasn't supposed to play interim midwife with a remote Mandalorian birth coach. She'd express her gratitude properly to them later - preferably from the sterility of a nice, clean hospital bed, with her sanity intact and her infant safe.

"Look at me," he urged softly. "Breathe with me. Just like we practised. I will not let go."

"I know you won't," came her strained whisper as another contractions began its painful descent. "You've never - nngh - let go." Even when they'd been separated by all the stars in the galaxy, when circumstance and choice and anguish had tried to sever the last of what they'd had, Makko had not let go.

Fortune came in the form of Adelle's voice. Cora had gone over it a thousand times. How to breathe, how to push - but it was the hardest thing to remember in the moment, and the healer guided her along this unfamiliar path.

Somehow, breathing seems like the least important thing. Makko would remind her how. She'd mirror his slow, deep breaths, then push. Then rest. Then curse, then push again, and-

You took something from my family.
The banner before him breathed, mirroring the judgement in his heart.
"For you, Corazona."
-A Debt Repaid, Lysander von Ascania
​

Cora would not know it, but the moment that her dearest brother took a life, was the moment that she welcomed one.

A soft crunch from beneath her fingers vaguely alerted her to the fact that something in Makko's hand was now broken. But even that faded into the background when a tiny, pitched cry fell into Aurelian's arms and filled the lift.

The world shifted. Nothing else mattered. Not the Jedi, not the Sith, not the Republic or even Ukatis - but her.

Makko Vyres Aurelian Veruna Adelle Bastiel

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Tags: Corazona von Ascania | Makko Vyres | Adelle Bastiel

Aurelian stared at the comm like it had grown teeth. "A clean, dry cloth," he repeated flatly, as if Adelle had just asked him to perform open-heart surgery with a dinner fork. He looked down at Cora, then at the puddle on the lift floor, then at his own pristine sleeves. His mind offered exactly one coherent thought.

Absolutely not.

He patted his pockets anyway, because apparently this was his life now. "I have," he began, pulling out a handkerchief, "an embroidered silk square that cost more than the average citizen's yearly salary."

He held it up like evidence. Then he looked at Cora's face, twisted with pain, and swallowed. "…And I am going to ruin it." He grimaced, unfolding it with two fingers like it might bite him. "This is a crime," he muttered. "This is a war crime."

The lift lurched, then began moving. Aurelian froze. His head snapped up to the ceiling, then to the doors.

Oh, thank the stars.

Makko's voice hit the comm like a blaster shot. Then the doors hissed open and Makko was there, all fury and Force and desperation, as if he'd personally wrestled the lift down out of the sky. Aurelian scooted backward on his knees, hands up. "Wonderful," he breathed. "You're here. Excellent. Perfect. Great timing. I'm going to stand over there and be morally supportive."

Makko dropped beside Cora. Aurelian watched the way their bond snapped taut between them, invisible but undeniable. It made his chest ache in a way he deeply respected. Then Cora's next contraction hit like a shockwave. Aurelian's stomach turned. He looked away on instinct. He was a man of refined sensibilities. He did not belong in a lift full of blood and screaming and… biology.

And yet. The baby came with a rush, sudden and impossibly small, and Aurelian's hands moved before his brain could file a formal complaint.

"Oh," he whispered, voice cracking on the single syllable.

He stared down at the tiny thing in his arms, blinking like he'd forgotten how. The girl's face scrunched, furious at the universe, and then she let out a thin, offended wail that hit Aurelian straight in the heart.

His throat tightened.

She was perfect. Ridiculously perfect. Like someone had taken starlight and stubbornness and made it breathe. Aurelian carefully wrapped her in the ruined handkerchief, suddenly reverent, like he was holding a relic.

"Hello," he murmured, horrified by how soft his own voice sounded. "Hello, little tyrant."

The baby's fingers curled around his thumb. Aurelian stopped breathing. He looked up at Makko and Cora, eyes bright and stunned, and for once he had no clever remark ready. His usual pretension had simply… evaporated.

"She's…" he tried again, then swallowed hard. "She's so small." He brought her over to her mother.

​

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Contruum
Tags: Aurelian Veruna | Corazona von Ascania | Makko Vyres

The Tome'tayl'kandyc had just been cleared to leave the spaceport when the sound of a small cry carried through the comms. Adelle adjusted her flight path but all the tension left her body when she heard that sound. There were still things that could go wrong, still so many threats to the mother and child now, but there was nothing more she could do from here. And mother and child had survived the birth.

"Congratulations," Adelle said. "She sounds good. I'll stay on the line until you get medical help."

The recycled air chilled the sweat that had formed on her skin during her mad dash to the spaceport. Adelle turned her attention to Cora's husband, since the woman herself wasn't likely to remember anything beyond the immediate moment. And she needed rest.

"It's Makko, right? I'd like to stop by and see how you all are doing, if that's okay," she said. "It will take a couple days for me to get there but the hospital you go to will likely want to keep you for a day or two themselves just to make sure everything's alright."

She waited for his response before addressing the final person in the lift. "You did good, Aurelian."

Adelle eased the dropship into hyperspace and was gone from Contruum.

 

[Makko Vyres]

MAKKO

He had seen Cora wounded in battle many times. This felt like a battle he couldn't really help her through. He was present as she crushed his hand and fought against the pain without drugs.

Then came the tiny, piercing wail. Makko stared at the bundle in Aurelian’s arms. He barely noticed the state of the lift, or his own knees soaked through. He only saw her.

It was their daughter.

Makko pressed a hand to Cora's cheek. His gaze back down to check on his wife. He didn’t move until Aurelian stepped forward, reverent for once, and offered the tiny little life to Cora.

"She's…" he tried again, then swallowed hard. "She's so small."

He wasn't wrong. She seemed impossibly small and delicate. Makko made a sound as if he laughed and sobbed in the same breath.

His breath caught as he looked down at the face scrunched in confusion and fury. She was so small. Unreasonably so. Her entire hand couldn’t even wrap around his thumb. Yet somehow she had brought the entire galaxy to a stop.

"Hey," he whispered, voice raw. "You made it."

"You did good, Aurelian."

He looked up, blinking toward Aurelian, nodding once.

"Thank you," he said again, quieter this time. "You weren't a terrible midwife."

His gaze dropped again to the infant now curled against Cora's chest. She was wrapped in what had once been expensive silk.

"We’ll get her to the hospital," he added, barely aware of how hoarse he sounded. "But she’s here. And she’s perfect."

He leaned down, resting his forehead briefly against Cora’s once more.

"You’re incredible," he murmured. Nothing was ever going to be the same again.

The medical team arrived only a few minutes after Makko had brought the lift down. He had to wonder if they had ever seen a cord cauterised by a lightsaber before.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

If the galaxy had stopped holding its breath, Cora wouldn't have noticed. She was exhausted to the bone, yet more alive than she'd ever been.

Pain couldn't touch her. Neither could embarrassment. Not when Aurelian gingerly settled the most precious thing in the galaxy into her arms.

She was so warm. Like a little light, nestled against her chest. Dark wisp of hair matted against her face, which scrunched and wrinkled in displeasure. Cora rested a hand against her tiny back in slow, gentle circles.

Words didn't find her, but she didn't need them. One glance up to Makko told the whole story.

…​

Despite the rocky start, both mother and baby were doing well. Each time Luciana was taken for a test - all perfectly routine, she'd knew and had been assured by patient nurses - Cora missed her. She worried, the sort of worry that made its home deep in your gut.

Then, her daughter would return. Ten fingers, ten toes. Passed her hearing test. Newborn screening for genetic conditions came back negative. Heart normal. A little smaller than expected given that she'd come a little early, but healthy.

All was well.

"I can't believe she's really here," Cora whispered. Curled against her chest, she grazed a thumb over Lucy's hair. "She looks like you."

The new family had been cleaned, dried, and bandaged - it was almost as if the elevator snafu had never happened.

"We should probably make sure that Aurelian is alright," she mused softly. "Poor thing has been scarred for life."

Makko Vyres Aurelian Veruna Adelle Bastiel

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Tags: Corazona von Ascania | Makko Vyres | Adelle Bastiel

AURELIAN WAS NOT ALRIGHT.

The moment Luciana left his arms and the lift doors finally opened, the galaxy caught up to him with interest. The smell hit first. Then the sight of his clothes. Silk ruined. Shoes unsalvageable. Dignity somewhere on the lift floor, possibly filed under biohazard. He smiled politely at the medical team, nodded like a man who had not just participated in something profoundly violating, and excused himself with the rigid grace of nobility trained to flee scandal.

He made it to his quarters on pure instinct. The shower was scalding. He stood under it far longer than necessary, scrubbing until his skin stung, like he could erase the day layer by layer. Water streamed down his face and he pressed both hands to the tile. The TRAUMA.

At one point, he glanced toward the window. It was open. The drop was impressive. Tempting to yeet himself out of it. A clean solution. He considered it... sort of. Then he huffed a weak laugh. No. He would not give Cora that satisfaction. She would absolutely memorialize it.

He dressed slowly, fresh clothes, familiar armor of finery and composure. By the time he stepped back into the sitting room, the worst of the shaking had passed. Outside, the city bells rang. Not alarm bells. Celebration.

Luciana, announced to the whole of Ukatis it seemed. Aurelian crossed to the window and looked out over the city. Lights flickered. People gathered. Somewhere, a family was whole in a way it hadn't been before.

He swallowed, throat tight. Adelle was on her way. He could already hear it. The yelling. The disbelief. The lecture about panic and priorities and fingers. He braced himself for it, shoulders loosening as he exhaled. What did she expect? He wasn't a midwife. He was barely functional under most mundane circumstances.

Still. His gaze softened as the bells continued to ring. Cora was safe. Makko was grinning like a man who had won a war. The baby was alive. Perfect. Loud.

Aurelian smiled to himself, small and crooked. Against all odds, he had saved the day.

​