Wetter - Joker: Inspiration

[servena]

Team: Drache
Challenge: Wetter - Joker: Inspiration (Für's Team)
Fandom: Andor
Charaktere: Cassian, Vel, Nemik
Sprache: Englisch
Wörter: 700
Kommentar: Ich musste beim Lesen sofort an das Auge von Aldhani denken (Meteoritenschauer sind ein Wetterphänomen, right??), auch wenn es dann doch sehr ins metaphorische Abgeglitten ist. Aber: Nemik lebt!

He liked the Eye of Aldhani better from farther away.

Under His Eye

He liked the Eye of Aldhani better from farther away.

That’s all he has time to think before he pulls up the freighter, narrowingly avoiding another collision with a meteorite, praying to he-doesnt-know-who that the trajectory is right, that the acceleration is enough, that they didn’t miscalculate the weight. You never know with these repurposed vehicles, people do gods-know-what with them to make them work, including things they really shouldn’t do.

Somewhere behind him, Vel is urgently saying his name. Not his real name, the one he gave her, his father’s name. He ignores her; he really doesn’t have time for this. He can feel her hovering behind him, can feel her need to do something. She still doesn’t trust him. Why should she?

But he isn’t the traitor. Even though afterwards, he has nothing to prove it with than his word and a dead body.

“I believe him”, Nemik says as soon as he’s awake again. Cassian doesn’t understand why; he knew Skeen much longer than him, they both did. Vel, to her credit, doesn’t look even that surprised. “Fucking Skeen”, she just says.

Nemik looks like he should be dead, but isn’t, and that makes Cassian linger when he shouldn’t. He should take what he earned and leave. He doesn’t owe these people anything. But here he is hovering in the doorway, the money burning a hole into his pocket. Nemik looks at him like he knows.

“I’ll check the freighter”, he finally says. “It was a pretty hard landing.”

Vel, ever distrusting, follows him outside. He ignores her hovering as he flips some switches, gets some readouts. The freighter is fine.

He doesn’t feel fine. His adrenaline is crashing and he feels cold and tired. Whenever he closes his eyes he can see the meteorites flash past him.

“That was some pretty good flying”, Vel says from behind him.

He takes the compliment with a nod. “Well, we’re still alive.”

“Not all of us”, she says somberly.

He throws a look over his shoulder. She doesn’t look accusatory, just tired. As tired as he feels.

“No”, he agrees quietly.

He starts a complete systems check, just in case. He massages his neck that still hurts from the rapid ascent and thinks about all those people he barely knew. He wonders if she worries about Cinta. He may be stupid sometimes, but he’s not that stupid.

“What happens if we’re late to the rendezvous point?” he asks.

She shrugs. “Guess we’re going to find out. The doctor says we have to at least stay until the morning.”

Then she hands him a flask. He sniffs its contents out of habit, but it’s just licqor. It burns his throat as he swallows.

They sit in silence for a while as the computer counts up the percentage of the systems check. It’s easy, sitting in silence with her. But the problem is that silence combined with alcohol makes people talk.

Surprisingly, Vel breaks first. “It was beautiful, wasn’t it?”, she says into the silence.

He nods, takes another swallow. The flask is almost empty. “Yeah.”

“I’ve never seen anything like it. Have you?”

He shakes his head. He passes the flask to her and she drinks the last of it.

“I thought…”, she starts. “…I thought, I’d feel better, afterwards. I thought I’d feel… relief.” She stares past him out of the cockpit, into the night. “But instead, I just feel… empty.”

He could say a number of things. That this was to be expected. That it’s the adrenaline drop that’s getting to her. That she had been naive. Instead he just hums in agreement.

“And I wonder… is it ever gonna feel like enough, what we’re doing?” She swishes the empty flask in her hand, looks into it like she still expects to see something. “Maybe not.”

“At least we made a pretty big payout”, he says, glancing past her at their cargo.

“Right. Because you’re only in it for the money.” She smiles at him like she knows something he doesn’t, and it makes his hackles rise. He wants to wipe that smile off her face. He can’t think of anything to say.

“My name’s not Clem”, are the words finally passing his lips.

She looks at him like she wants to say “Duh”.

“It’s Cassian.”

She smiles at him, a small, honest smile. Then she reaches out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Cassian.”

He takes her hand and shakes it.