Home

The days were long. They were warm, and sunny, and clear, when he was in the fields.

 

It hadn’t been long; there weren’t even sprouts in the hundreds of rows that had been planted. Wouldn’t be any for some time, yet.

 

There were others, milling about. Botanists, farmers, some troopers and Force-sensitives to protect them from the Odessen wildlife. What little machinery they had was parked under collapsible shelters, while a group of engineers checked the new irrigation system. In the distance, on the other side of the fence, two young Sleen wrestled in the river, splashing about and dunking each other under the surface.

 

Varrich took a slow breath. Another was accompanied by the closing of his eye as he leaned back against a fence post—the fence that he’d help build only yesterday. It was crooked and some of the posts leaned where inexperienced volunteers had helped. Other parts stood in perfect lines, strong and sturdy, where experienced farmers had finally been able to offer their skills to the Alliance. Some, placed by hand, and others with machinery and even the occasional droid.

 

Some of the posts were wood, cut from trees that had been destroyed in Zakuul’s invasion all those months ago. Others, made of metal—scraped together from old unwanted parts, or spares some of the smugglers had laying around their ships, and a few even proper fencing others happened to have available.

 

The fences surrounding the fields were a mess of colors and shapes and textures. The nets hanging haphazardly from where they were tied to the posts all that kept some of the wildlife from getting in.

 

But it was a start. Damn, if it wasn’t a start.

 

Arms crossed, his eye drifted open and gaze flitted about. One hand scratched absentmindedly at a chip in the paint of his prosthetic, thumb rubbing over the shapes painted onto the hand to copy the tattoos on the one opposite.

 

He was tired, and sore, but damn if it wasn’t rewarding.

 

“Is that fondness I see on your face?”

 

Glancing to the side revealed Lina trotting from where a collection of speeders were parked. She had something slung across her shoulder, one hand hiking up the bottom of her dress so it wouldn’t get grass stains, and she was grinning, bright as ever.

 

“Your hair’s a frizzy mess,” she teased, reaching over the fence to tuck a loose, grayed strand behind his ear. Then, she tossed what she’d been carrying at him—it was a canteen, full of cool water, that he caught against his chest. “You’ve all been hard at work,” she added. “Commander’s looking forward to your first report.”

 

“I…still can’t believe she put me in charge of all this.”

 

She nudged his shoulder with a laugh. “It was your idea to start growing crops! And you’re the one who scouted this spot out and helped figure out what we can even try growing here in the first place.”

 

Maybe it was his expression that showed his doubt, but she was already rolling her eyes with an exasperated sigh long before he could even open his mouth. “I became a soldier—not a farmer. Commander could have picked anyone else for this.”

 

“Vee. We grew up on a farm and I know you—you probably kept up your agriculture studies ‘just in case’ regardless of military ranks or whatever.” She waved her hand toward the field—toward the others working in it. “Besides. It’s not like you’re the only farmer here. You’ve got plenty of help.”

 

Varrich leaned his head back against the fence post; the unevenly cut wood snagged at his ponytail, but he didn’t pay it any mind as he turned slightly toward his sister. She had her arms crossed over the fence, being careful not to nudge at the net with her feet so it wouldn’t shock her. She was still smiling, gesticulating toward the sky and the field, the farmers and the volunteers, as she chattered away.

 

She clicked her tongue, and Varrich’s shoulders loosened from their usual, stiff posture. Such a simple little sound. But such a familiar one, too. He hadn’t heard it in so, so long when they’d been apart. When he left home, when he was recruited by Havoc, in the…at Breaktown.

 

He’d missed her, when they couldn’t talk. When they were separated for one reason or another. She may have been the Force-sensitive one, but she was still his twin; there was still a connection there.

 

“Are you happy here?” he asked after a while. Usually, he was content just to let her be the one talking, but…

 

Her grin brightened, all the way up to her eyes, at the question. “This is home, now!” She cocked her head, tsked thoughtfully. “…Are you happy here?”

 

He turned away from her. Watched a teenager listen with genuine interest as one of the farmers explained how the tiny plow—one they’d managed to get planetside on short notice, but was currently their only one—worked. He watched a trio of engineers argue over how to fix something with the irrigation without damaging anything else or causing risk to the wildlife. Watched one of the scientists take a bite of their lunch, only for the vegetables to fall out the over side and land on the ground at their feet.

 

His gaze shifted, farther out. To a tiny Makrin following its parent on unsteady legs. To the eyes of Shade Stalkers deep in the shadows of the trees. To where he knew the base was, hidden away in its mountainside, unseen from where they’d placed the fields.

 

And he smiled. It was small, and tired, and anyone else would have missed it.

 

But Lina grinned ever-wider when she noticed it, leaned over the fence to wrap her arms around his neck in an awkward hug.

 

Home.

 

They were finally home, weren’t they?