Chapter Text
The bar had been Kleya's choice. The fact that they were in a bar at all had not been Kleya's choice.
Close enough to one of the shipping yards that a revolving clientele was to be expected. Likely few, if any, regulars that would notice three women who didn't belong.
Only two exits, and probably one through the back if necessary. The lighting dim enough that, unless they were specifically being looked for, they'd probably avoid detection. A dark bassline though overlarge speakers, loud enough that nobody would overhear their conversation without getting too close. Busy, but not so busy that Kleya couldn't hear herself think. Cinta had at least selected a corner table so if worst came to worst they wouldn't be taken by surprise.
They had all chosen to sit with their backs to the wall.
"You need to relax," said Vel, pushing another pink cocktail across the table to accompany Kleya's almost empty glass. ("I wasn't sure what you'd like so I got you something sour to match your disposition," Vel had said when they'd arrived two hours earlier.)
"I'll relax when we've completed our mission," said Kleya. She hated the drink and she hated the sticky residue on the outside of the glass. She pulled it towards herself anyway and wished she were literally anywhere else.
Vel rolled her eyes and exchanged a knowing glance with Cinta. For her part, Cinta seemed content to sit back in her chair and watch without interference. Her foot tapped to the beat of the music.
It was something Kleya could never have pictured her doing before her accident.
"There must be something you do for fun," said Vel.
"Fun?"
"Yes. Fun. You must be familiar with the term. It means-"
"I know what it means," Kleya snapped. She glared at Vel and quietly seethed over the lack of impact it seemed to have. Even Luthen had known when it was time to shut his mouth.
She took an angry sip of her hideous drink and relished the burn as it slid down her throat.
Vel held up both hands as if to stave off an attack. As though Kleya were the one being unreasonable here.
"All right," she said. "No need to lose your temper."
And that, unfortunately, was when Cinta finally decided to weigh in.
"You need to get laid."
Vel had the audacity to nod along, a hint of sly amusement curling the corner of her lip upwards. "It definitely couldn't hurt. I've never met anyone more tightly wound in my life, and I lived with Mon for six months during the Separatist uprising."
Kleya grit her teeth together, refusing to give them the kind of reaction she knew would only prove their point.
"I'm fine," she said. "I just know where my priorities lie." She shot a look at Cinta. "Something we once shared."
The small part of her that hoped Cinta would rise to match her energy was disappointed. Cinta merely shrugged her shoulders and said, "My priorities have never changed. I've just learned to make room for something for myself too." She took a sip of her drink then, and Kleya was sure that with her free hand she had reached to grasp Vel's under the table.
It was the kind of casual intimacy Kleya had never experienced.
She smiled with all her teeth. "How nice for you," she said.
For just a moment, Vel's face contorted in the way that would normally precede a disagreement evolving into an argument and Kleya felt her back straighten in preparation. Back on familiar ground, this was something she knew how to deal with.
The music pulsed around them and somewhere in a dark corner a glass smashed as the Rhodian Kleya had clocked on her way in pushed a human man into a wall. Whether it was for romance or violence, Kleya couldn't say. Nobody paid them any mind; it was that kind of bar.
Then Vel relaxed with a long, slow exhale and Kleya's hand tightened around her disgusting drink.
"The foundations of the Rebellion won't crumble to dust just because Kleya Marki took a night off," said Vel. The implicit you're not that important anymore hit like a gut punch.
"And what exactly are you proposing I do?"
"I don't care," said Vel. "Stop thinking for five minutes. Pick someone, let them take you home and don't come back until you've worked all this stress out of your system. Next person who walks through the door."
Kleya had no intention of doing any such thing, but her eyes still swivelled to the door in question as it swung open and a hooded figure stepped in.
They paused and looked around, like they were searching for someone, and then reached up with a slender hand to push their grey hood further back and-
Oh.
Kleya took a large gulp of her drink just as Vel twigged who had walked in.
"Wait," Vel said, and Cinta began to laugh. "No."
The figure spotted them and raised a hand in greeting. She began to edge her way around the increasingly overcrowded dance floor towards them. Heat started to creep up the back of Kleya's neck.
"Don't you dare," Vel hissed before Mon was close enough to hear them.
"I'm just doing what I'm told," said Kleya, pleased she'd managed to keep her voice cool. "Something about fun, wasn't it?"
Mon reached the table and if she noticed the stricken expression on Vel's face she didn't mention it.
It was an anathema to see Mon Mothma in a place like this, and Kleya couldn't help but become suddenly aware of heavy smell of stale booze and sweat in the air. The discordant music went on with what seemed like renewed hostility. Mon smiled at them awkwardly as Cinta rose to her feet to pull another chair towards their table.
"You're supposed to be sleeping," said Kleya. She ignored Vel's glare burning into the side of her head.
Apologetically, Mon inclined her head fraction. The thought of giving Mon space to get some uninterrupted rest, after yet another all-nighter and long day of secret meetings and debates, had been the only reason that Kleya had allowed Cinta and Vel to drag her off the ship for the evening.
"I was," said Mon. Cinta pushed the chair towards her and Mon thanked her quietly but did not sit. "However, we perhaps should have taken into account who else might choose to make use of the most secluded docking area available on short notice."
Vel frowned and said, "Who?"
"I cannot be certain," Mon continued, "but I believe we've taken up space usually occupied by a local spice smuggling ring. Their complaints were quite loud and they were not gentle with their cargo."
"Fuck," said Vel.
"There wasn't much use in trying to sleep through it, so I made a stealth exit as soon as I could."
Kleya found it hard to believe that Mon was capable of stealth even on her best day. In the grey cloak she wore, designed to blend in with local fashion trends, she still cut an impressive figure. It had been quite frustrating trying to find anything that made Mon Mothma less likely to stand out in a crowd. It was beyond her to be ordinary.
"Were you followed?" asked Cinta.
Mon cast a glance at the door, which hadn't opened again since her arrival, and said, "I don't think so. And if I was, Kleya has quite drilled proper protocol into me for this sort of thing so I should have lost them along the way."
"Good," said Kleya, satisfied. Mon may not have a knack for this sort of thing, but she knew how to follow directions.
"Thank you," said Mon. "I'll go and find myself a drink."
Vel moved to stand and said, "I'll go-"
But Mon held up a hand with a smile. "Thank you, Vel, but I've already interrupted your night. I can buy my own drink." She cast an eye over to Kleya. "What do you have?"
Rather than answer, Kleya pushed her glass towards Mon and gestured to it. Mon raised an eyebrow before picking up the drink and taking a polite sip. Her face became abruptly blank.
"That's-"
"Revolting," said Kleya.
"If you didn't like it why did you let me get you three of them?" asked Vel with a huff. Kleya did not bother to spare her a glance.
Mon smiled politely and slid away towards the bar, quickly lost in the crowd. Perhaps Kleya's gaze lingered on her for a touch too long because Vel slammed her hand down on the table hard enough that a lesser person might have jumped. Kleya merely redirected her attention and pursed her lips.
"Problem?"
"Pick anybody else," Vel said with a scowl. "If you keep your mouth shut you can have anybody else in this room. I'm sure your face will make up for your bad personality."
Beside her, Cinta was doing a very poor job of concealing laughter.
"Maybe I don't want anybody else," said Kleya. She kept her tone light and hoped it would be enough to convince Vel she was motivated by nothing but the desire to annoy her. It seemed to work on Vel, but Kleya did not like the intrigued way Cinta was suddenly looking at her.
"Leave Mon alone," said Vel.
"You were very insistent that I take the night off for some fun. Stress relief, wasn't it? Surely your cousin deserves the same?" She wasn't sure why she kept needling. Anything, perhaps, to distract herself from the way her heartbeat had sped up the second Mon had entered the room and had yet to slow back down. And Kleya had always excelled at hiding in plain sight.
Vel leaned forward, her eyes clear and full of fury. Ah, thought Kleya idly, so this is the Vel that all the new recruits are so afraid of. She wasn't impressed.
"I mean it, Kleya. She isn't one of your assets anymore. I won't let you toy with her heart."
That stung more than it should have. "I'm not-" She stopped herself. There was nothing to be gained by protesting her innocence. If Vel thought she was the kind of person to do something like she was suggesting then there was nothing Kleya could do about it. Instead she said, "You started this."
An awkward silence fell as Kleya tried to ignore the pointed conversation Vel and Cinta were now having with nothing but their eyes and exaggerated facial expressions. She dreaded to think what was being communicated between them.
Sometimes she longed for the days when the only person she ever had to placate was Luthen.
A hand fell on her shoulder and Kleya's head shot up in time to see Mon place a highball glass on the table in front of her. Amber liquid shone with the same warmth and colour as Mon's hair, garnished with a wedge of lime.
"Something a little more to your taste I hope," said Mon.
Kleya swallowed against a dry throat and replied, "It can't be any worse."
Maybe there was something in her voice, because Mon's smile dipped and she squeezed Kleya's shoulder before releasing her and taking a seat on the opposite side of the table.
"You shouldn't sit with your back to the room," Kleya chided her. It was an old disagreement, but if nothing else it would be enough to distract Vel and Cinta. The discomfort of being so closely observed by them was making her skin itch.
Mon chuckled. "I've spent most of my life with my back to people who would happily stab me in it. There are some things you grow accustomed to." Her smile took on a quality Kleya had never seen before Yavin. "Besides, I feel quite well protected among current company."
It was directed at the three of them, yet Kleya felt a flush of heat, followed quickly by a surge of irritation with herself. She'd made an executive decision weeks ago that she wasn't going to take this attraction any further. If only the rest of her could be as logical as her sober mind.
She took a sip of the drink Mon had brought her and let out a short breath of relief. It was a vast improvement on the luminous pink cocktail Vel had selected for her. Spicy enough to make her tongue tingle and just a little sweet.
"So, Mon," said Vel. "How do you think today went?"
"Not as well as I'd hoped," said Mon. "Better than I'd feared."
"That was better?" asked Cinta, who had been playing the role of Mon's bodyguard for the duration of this ill-conceived fundraising event under the guise of 'personal assistant'. "The Countess didn't even bother to come back after you broke for lunch."
"She didn't," Mon acknowledged. Then, her lip quirked. "Quite the song and dance she made of it too, don't you think?"
Cinta leaned back in her chair. "You think you have her?"
"I think the question we need to be asking now is how much she's willing to part with and what she expects in exchange," said Mon.
With the Rebellion running dangerously low on funds, this was welcome news. Long gone were the days that Kleya and Luthen could tap their local Senator for credits without danger of reprisal. Now, on the run for sedition and treason, Mon was as impoverished as the rest of them. Kleya thought she wore it well. Unfortunately, Kleya thought Mon wore everything well.
"I will never understand politics," said Cinta, in a tone that suggested she never wanted to either.
"That's what I'm here for," said Mon, satisfied.
They were reaching a point were Mon would no longer be able to attend these meetings in person. It simply wasn't safe while the Empire's cold, grasping fingers stretched further and further every day. Kleya wasn't looking forward to that discussion, though Mon must know it was coming. Thankfully, the dubious honour of telling Chancellor Mothma that she was destined to spend the rest of the fight across safe houses and ever moving space ships would fall to someone else. Draven, probably. Nobody else would dare.
Unless they could convince General Organa to take one for the team. Mon had developed quite the soft spot for the young rebel.
"All right," said Vel. "That's enough shop talk." As though she hadn't been the one to bring it up. "We're supposed to be here for a break."
"Of course," said Mon. She took a drink, and Kleya watched her throat bob as she swallowed. The music seemed to pulse louder and the room grew hotter as bodies pressed closer to each other on the dance floor. "How was your day?"
"That's still shop talk," said Vel.
Kleya wondered if anybody but her noticed Mon's hesitation as she scrambled for another topic, a Senatorial smile fixed in place. She always did seem out of her element in social situations that existed for no other purpose than to simply be.
Maybe Vel did notice, because she leaned forward on the table and said, "Did you see they have a local smashball league here?"
"A local what league?" asked Cinta.
"It's technically not smashball," said Vel. "The rules are close enough though." She looked at Cinta. "Long story short, two teams try to hit each other will rubber balls." She looked back to Mon, who had adopted an air of interest. "You used to be good at smashball."
"I'm surprised you remember. You were quite young when I stopped playing."
Vel grinned, and for just a moment it made her look much younger. "How could I forget? You knocked that boy's tooth out. I'd never seen that much blood before. Aunt Tanis was horrified."
"Well," said Mon, primly, "he had said something quite unkind to one of my teammates."
Kleya kept her expression neutral, pretending she hadn't just felt a wild thrill down her spine at the idea of Mon jumping down from her very high horse and suspending her dedication to pacifism to break in a boy's face in defence of another.
Maybe it was time to stop drinking.
"And Perrin had pissed you off that morning," said Vel.
"Probably," Mon conceded. "Smashball did give me an outlet that I lacked elsewhere for certain frustrations."
Completely against her will, Kleya looked to Vel and their eyes met across the table. At Vel's murderous glare, Kleya offered a sharp smile. Cinta was pressing her lips together in a valiant attempt not to laugh again.
Mon said nothing, but she must have known there was something going on that she wasn't privy to.
Then Cinta said, her eyes sparkling with mirth, "I think I like the sound of smashball."
"You would," said Kleya.
"We'll set up a game back home." It was understood that by 'home', Vel meant Yavin. "We'll call it a training exercise for the recruits. If you can dodge a ball you can dodge blaster fire." Vel picked up her drink and finished it in a couple of gulps. "Are you ready to show the rebels how it's done, Mon?"
Mon let out a short, sceptical laugh. "I rather think my smashball days are over."
"I think you'd do well," said Kleya. "Nobody would dare hit you."
"Why do think that?"
"Because they know what's good for them," said Cinta. She gestured to Vel and then to Kleya, and Kleya felt her whole body warm when Mon looked over at her with a mischievous smile. "Right." Cinta threw back the rest of her drink in much the same way Vel had done. "I want to dance."
She rose gracefully to her feet and bumped Vel's arm with her hip. As Vel got up, powerless to deny Cinta anything, Cinta shot Kleya and Mon a wicked grin. "Don't wait up."
Kleya felt a surge of alarm.
"Hang on," Vel began. Her brow furrowed.
"Enjoy the rest of your night! We're going to rent a room in the motel down the street."
This was not correct safety protocol.
"No-"
Cinta took Vel's hand and pulled her far closer than would be appropriate in most public settings.
"Kleya will look after your cousin," said Cinta.
"That's what I'm afraid of," Vel muttered, as Cinta pulled her into the throng of dancers. "Bye, Mon!"
They were gone in seconds, leaving a startled silence in their wake. Kleya couldn't remember the last time she had felt so inclined towards homicide.