It’s canon to SWTOR that Dorne somehow manages a romance with the Republic Trooper without breaking any military codes. How, I don’t know, but I make use of it here.
Author’s Note
“Finally!” snapped Brant, as the clouds underneath him shimmered and suddenly seemed less opaque. He directed the shuttle downward, cursing irritably as Odessen’s gravity seized them rather harder than usual and began to bump them all about as they entered the planet’s atmosphere. He keyed in coordinates to the computer, then got up to check on Kellaro.
His twin was sitting bleary-eyed right where Brant had left him, half-in and half-out of a wheelchair the Sith had hastily wheeled over at the same time they had been hailed by Dorne. Brant seized his draggling limbs with the Force and thumped him, rather hard, properly upright in the chair.
“Ow,” said Kellaro belatedly.
“Wake up,” said Brant. “We’re here. Ride’s a bit bumpy, I’m afraid. You want to be strapped in for the landing?”
“I’ll manage,” muttered Kellaro.
“Like hell you will,” said Brant, and he began to wheel him towards the passenger bay. “You can’t even sit up on your own.”
“My chest hurts.”
“Of course it would. I practically had to stomp a hole through you to keep you heart going while we were waiting for that medic on Bracca — move your arm, will you? These strap fits over your shoulder.”
Kellaro did, with such ease Brant suddenly wondered just how awake he was. “There,” said Brant after a moment. “You’re all set.”
“You’re being awfully nice to me all of a sudden.”
“I could go back to stomping.”
“No, I mean… “ Kellaro hesitated.
But then the holo console was suddenly beeping, and Brant cursed. “I’ll be back,” he said and hurried back to the bridge.
“You’re looking well, Major,” said Lana brightly as soon as he answered the call, and her smile was almost cheeky. The shields operator, Dorne, looked up swiftly, then down again in obvious disappointment as soon as she saw Brant’s moustache-less face.
“It’s Darth Merce, though I wouldn’t mind Major Merce,” said Brant with a little smirk. “Are you satisfied it’s me now, Dorne?”
“Yes, sir,” said Dorne grumpily.
“How many are aboard your shuttle?” asked Lana. “Theron is throwing a nerf over security.”
“Just me and Kellaro. Look, it’s not my fault Havoc Squad never gave me a key.”
“I doubt they expected you to run off like that,” said Lana.
“It’s a good thing I did, or you wouldn’t have a major left,” Brant grunted. “Kellaro’s conscious, but he’s wounded. He’ll probably need some help down the gangplank.”
“I’ll send out a medic team to receive you.”
“I’ll go,” said Dorne abruptly.
“As you will,” said Lana, though she frowned slightly, and took the Lieutenant’s chair as soon she got up. She leaned over the console. “Brant… just how badly damaged is he?”
“Oh, Kellaro’s acting like the sky is falling, but he’ll be fine, or close enough.”
Lana nodded. “I suppose that will have to do. And you…?”
“I hardly even broke a sweat.”
“It was a brave thing you did,” remarked Lana.
“Yes, who knew Sith were so capable?” He smirked at her.
The return smile she gave him was warm, but pensive. “I meant to ask you… HQ processed a transfer request shortly before you landed on Bracca. My own team has an opening for a good Sith. Do you happen to know of one?”
Brant paused. “That is a good offer.”
“Is it also an accepted one?” said Lana coyly.
“I… Look, I don’t know. It’s–”
“–complicated between you and your brother. I know.”
Brant shook his head irritably. “Damn woman. Stay out of my head.”
“I wasn’t even in it that time,” said Lana with a smirk. “You’ve been quite obvious about it, even before your little jaunt on Bracca’s surface.”
Brant waved her off. “I’ve been further than Bracca,” he said. “Tell Father I have some information about the Emperor he should hear. It could be a breakthrough.”
“You can tell him that yourself. He should be with you shortly.”
“After we’re all done celebrating, then,” Brant grunted. Lana squinted at him, but his expression was lighter than she had seen him; his remark didn’t seem to be meant sarcastically.
“Either way, the offer stands,” she said. “You’re a good fighter, one I can trust to have my back.” Then she leaned away to type something into the console. When she spoke next, her voice was perfunctory, back to business: “You’re within range of the tractor beam now, Shuttle I-7. Stand by.”
“Standing by,” Brant grunted, and he turned down the engines as he felt the tractor beam seize the craft and slowly pull it into a smooth landing. Once he had queued the landing gear to deploy, he turned back to the holo, but Lana had already shut it off on her end.
So, instead, he stood up and walked back to the passenger bay. Kellaro was sitting up more strongly now, gazing at the door expectantly. Brant watched him, saying nothing, and after he felt the landing gear come down and the shuttle’s weight settle, he pulled the lever that opened the hatch. He met Kellaro before he could try wheeling himself down the gangplank, catching hold of the wheelchair and carefully lowering it with the Force’s help.
Someone came running across the landing pad towards them, and Brant angled the wheelchair so they could take Kellaro off his hands. He was surprised when the person instead put him into a tight squeeze. He smelled machine oil, and leaned back just far enough he saw Keel’ath’s face, his eyes squeezed shut as he hugged his son.
“Dad,” said Brant. “This is… awkward.”
“Hush.” Keel’ath broke away from him then, and turned to Kellaro, putting a hand to his cheek, since he was too low down to hug. Others were running up now, including Lieutenant Dorne. Most of the newcomers swarmed the major, but one with blue head-tails came to stand just up front of Brant, her hands on her hips.
“Well, well. Darth Merce,” said Vette, coolly.
“Vette?” said Brant, and he sighed. “What is it this time?”
“You, my lord, have some explaining to do.” She palmed him a familiar commlink. “Why in all the names of the stars didn’t you contact me?” She glared.
“Uh. I got a little sidetracked.”
“Sidetracked. Yeah. Right. Sure.”
“Sure,” said Brant. He glanced at Kellaro for help, just in time to see him kissing Dorne passionately. He blinked, nonplussed, then looked back at Vette. “…those two are a thing?”
Vette shrugged. “Wouldn’t hurt you to come out of your cave a little more, Sith.”
“Huh.” Brant looked back. Thankfully the kissing had ended, but now the two were hugging each other as a second medic looked over Kellaro’s leg. A familiar Cathar, standing now at Kellaro’s shoulder, suddenly straightened and came to stand beside Vette.
“Darth Merce,” he said.
“Yes, that is, in fact, my name,” muttered Brant.
Jorgan then surprised him by bowing. “Please my accept my apologies, sir, and the apologies of all Havoc Squad.”
Brant stared at him. “For…?”
Lieutenant Dorne got her face out of Kellaro’s hair and also straightened. “You saved him. You saved our brother-in-arms.”
“Well,” said Brant in some confusion. “He’s also my brother.”
“We misjudged you,” said Jorgan flatly. Brant looked back at him. The Cathar’s nostrils went thin as he took in a deep breath, then flared as he exhaled it and bowed his head. “I, in particular, hated your guts the moment you walked aboard, both for what you were and what you represented. As a soldier of the Republic, this shames me. I should have been paying more attention to who you were and treated you accordingly.”
“Oh, don’t beat yourself up too much,” said Vette. “He’s still the same old Sithy Sith of questionable temperament that he’s always been.”
“Thanks, Vette,” said Brant dryly.
She surprised him by suddenly hugging him tight. “And don’t you ever forget it,” she told him.
Brant stared at Havoc Squad, and Havoc Squad stared back. Then, trying to regain his dignity, Brant poked the top of Vette’s head a few times. “What is this? Whatever happened to ‘you’re a moron, Brant’ and ‘I never want to speak to you again, Brant’?”
“I never said ‘never’.”
“You said all the rest, though!”
“Yes,” said Vette, looking at him. “You have to admit, you’re kind of crazy, and really irritable, and simply awful to be around when you’re mad, but sometimes… you’re also… kind of… nice.”
“ ‘Kind of nice.’ I’ll have to make you print that one out and frame it for me.”
“In Empire gold or bloody barbed wire?” asked Vette innocently.
“Maybe Alliance blue,” said Brant with a growing grin. He looked up to Keel’ath, who was standing on Kellaro’s other side, clasping his son’s shoulder.
The Commander nodded. “Your training period’s over,” he confirmed. “We have several openings among the ranks. You only have to pick.”
Brant looked around at all the others, hesitating. “I assume you’re staying with Havoc Squad, Vette?”
“I might,” said Vette. “Then again, it might be nice to go at it on my own for a mission or two. These Republic type can get so stuffy.” Jorgan rolled his eyes.
“Lana told me they accepted a transfer request from you,” said Kellaro. “I signed it. All you have to do is turn it back in, if that’s what you want, Brant.”
Brant met his twin’s eyes and said nothing.
“Or…” started Dorne, and she exchanged glances with Kellaro. “It might be nice to have a Force-user on the team again, Major.”
“So long as he can keep his smart remarks about cats to himself,” Jorgan muttered.
Brant looked back at Keel’ath, who gave him a slight nod. “It’s your decision.”
Brant blew out a breath. “I’ll… hold on to the request for now, but…” He pushed through the squad, put a hand on Kellaro’s knee, looked into the dark blue eyes that so matched his own. “…in the meantime, someone’s got to keep this stupid head out of trouble.” He reached out and tousled the major’s hair.
Kellaro’s smile slowly took in the sun.
“That means I’m staying on, too,” said Vette. “I’m the only one who can speak Sith with any reasonable degree of fluency on the crew, and goodness knows without me you’d all blow each other up.”
Brant found himself chuckling. She winked.
“Then it’s done,” said Keel’ath approvingly. “When you’re ready, meet me in the control room for a debriefing, but until then? I think you all deserve a drink or two at the cantina. It’ll be on my tab, for all of you.”
“Thanks, Dad,” said Brant.
“Thank you,” said Keel’ath, “for saving me from having to tell your mother you were lost.”
Brant swallowed. “I’ll see her soon,” he promised. “Will you tell her for me?”
“Of course. She’ll come visit you both in the infirmary,” said Keel’ath, and with one last look and squeeze of Kellaro’s shoulder, he stepped off the gangplank and made his way back into the compound. Though still clad in heavy boots, his walk seemed lighter.
The tangle around the twins began to tear away, as the Havoc Squad members who had officially been on duty saluted and returned to their stations. Brant and Vette took turns wheeling Kellaro up the steep ramp to the infirmary.
“So…” started Brant, glancing at Vette, then Kellaro. “Let me just get this straight. You’re with Dorne.”
“Yes.”
“With Dorne.”
“Yes.”
“She’s your third-in-command!”
Kellaro shrugged. “I don’t guess you’ve noticed, but this Alliance is a bit lax on the familial relations thing. It’s all above board, Brant; she’s not technically under me so long as she heads up the medical bay on our ship.” He raised an eyebrow. “Who did you think I was with, anyway?”
“Honestly? Vette.”
Vette just looked at him and started laughing, hard enough Brant had to jump in to keep Kellaro’s chair from sliding all the way back down to the landing pad as she slapped the rail helplessly.
“I’m serious!” he snapped. “The way I kept running into you two conniving with one another…”
“Oh, that is hilarious!” chortled Vette. “Kellaro thought I was with you. You thought I was with Kellaro. You’re both such morons!”
“So how do you explain the conniving?”
Vette stopped laughing to gasp, then started all over again. Brant crossed his arms, and she clutched his shoulder until she could talk. “Didn’t you hear me? I’m the only one who translates Sith into Normal Person Speak. Seriously, you should take a course on public relations or something. Might have saved you a lot of trouble with Havoc Squad. I’m just glad I was there to watch your neck!”
“Okay, fine, I get it. You’re just friends, and I’m stupid.” Brant scowled at the ground.
“I’m friends with you too, you know,” said Vette, elbowing him.
Brant just looked at her.
Kellaro chuckled softly. “Cathar got your tongue, bro?”
“Don’t you start.” Brant took a deep breath and squared himself up. “I just thought… since the fight… and… well…”
“There’s been rough patches,” said Vette seriously, “but I forgive you for most of them. I meant what I said, you know, if you’ll remember back to the very beginning…”
“Chirp, chirp?” said Brant dryly.
“No!” said Vette with a little giggle, then she sniffed the levity away. “The beginning of your time here. You’re like a brother to me, Brant. A big, stupid brother who needs to be reminded he’s not always hot stuff all the time, but a brother.”
“I suppose that’s better than a little brother,” Brant grumbled, but his smile was genuine, when it finally came to his face.
“Careful. If you keep making that expression, it might freeze that way,” said Vette with a grin, then she started laughing all over again. Brant exchanged an eyeroll with Kellaro, but he kept smiling, all the way to the medical wing.