Chapter 10: No Place Like Home

2.1K 84 14
                                    

It was the first light on Ord Mantell and Orla impatiently waited for a friend to walk in through the door. She hadn't pivoted her eyes away from the door frame since she arrived downstairs. The cantina was closed and empty so Zelda was making breakfast while Snippy stared down the cooked food.

"Oh shoo you pesky thing," she waved her hands, forcing Snippy off the table, "you've got your food sitting in a bowl you know."

The sneaky cat spun her head around to where there was a small bowl with her name embedded in the clay structure. She nibbled away at it while Zelda took notice of Orla's agitation. She moved over to her table and gently tapped a fork on her bowl of eggs and she seemed to wake up.

"How about eating something?" She motioned her utility to the untouched food.

"Right, sorry." A smile formed on her tired face and she picked up a spoon to eat.

"Now what sort of trouble have you got into now?" she teased.

"Trouble?" Orla questioned with a mouthful of food, "no trouble, business."

"Business oh sure that's believable. Is it business with whoever you were calling yesterday? I sure hope you're not meeting boys behind my back."

Orla almost choked on her food, "Zelda will you stop that? It's nothing like that, it's a very important and serious meeting." Orla tried to hold a straight face, but Zelda was grinning from ear to ear and it was hard to contain herself.

"Alright, alright," she threw her hands, one of them holding a tea towel, "just don't let me walk into anything."

"You are so messed up in the head," Orla laughed which lifted her mood, and watched Zelda leave to go back into the kitchen behind the bar. Orla waited, tapping her finger on the table with every passing second. She jumped up at every noise or footstep that was mainly by Snippy, anticipating Rex would step through the door at any moment. Then finally, the door handle turned and a familiar clone's head slid through the door.

"Orla," he whispered unsure whether he should step in fully. He hadn't noticed Orla sitting on a stool.

"Rex?" Orla appeared to him, opening the door wider to see he was wearing a worn-out brown poncho that barely covered his eyes.

"Where'd you get the outfit?" Orla sniggered as Rex stepped in, looking around at the empty cantina.

"What?" He looked down at his questionable choice of colours, "don't you were ponchos?"

Orla wasn't wearing her disguise as no one could see her, just the same old brown trousers, and a green tank top. "Yes but you look like you might as well have walked in with a trash bag covering yourself. Where'd you even get it?"

"Got it off someone in the streets."

"Here? Rex that thing probably has countless diseases." She lifted a corner of his hood, feeling the dirty texture covering Rex's "disguise"

"No I got it somewhere else, I don't get what's wrong with it. Sure it kinda smells but it does the job," he shrugged.

"Does the job? Rex, I can see your clone armour peeking through the sleeves you aren't fooling anyone. You're so lucky people don't pay attention here. If you were anywhere else, they would have sniffed you out already."

Rex sighed, giving in. "alright it's probably not the best choice of-"

"Color?"

"I was going to say clothing but sure."

"No, the poncho idea is fine, it just smells and it's too short. Let me get one, take that off and I'll wash it."

She goes into another room and throws the poncho and shouts something to someone. Rex raised his eyebrows.

Fixing Our Broken Pieces || The Bad BatchWhere stories live. Discover now