#cal kestis needs a hug

[flammabel]

I am a firm believer now that Cal is seeing the Galactic Republic logo due to his PTS once he realizes they are going to use them to get off the Lucrehulk. First time by they look normal, but after facing Dagan they've changed appearance.

I did some research and according to wookiepedia one of the Venator class ships had the cog on their escape pod entry hatchways. And there is no reason a trade federation Lucrehulk would have had the logo.

His reaction in the pod is obvious, but if the above is why I think it is, it makes the writing and storytelling and acting in this game all that more amazing. And one of the reasons I love these games so much.

Screenshot from Cal's flashback in Fallen Order just as the door closes on the escape pod.

[lesbian-cal-kestis]

it's all downhill from here (in the outer nowhere)

Summary: Cal Kestis is reminded of his past, causing havoc while trapped in a memory he will never forget. Title from Bleed Me an Ocean by Acid Bath.

Warning/s: Minor Character Death

Pairing: Merrin/Cal

Characters: Cal Kestis, Nightsister Merrin, Greez Dritus, BD-1, Kata Akuna (mentioned), Prauf (mentioned), Jaro Tapal (mentioned), Original Character/s

Additional tags: Cal Kestis needs a hug, he doesn't get one, canon-typical violence, angst, hurt no comfort, okay maybe there's a little comfort, post-Jedi: Survivor, Planet Jakku (Star Wars), panic attack, dismemberment (brief mention), Cal needs to understand that avoiding his problems is not a substitute for therapy, flashbacks, Order 66 (Star Wars), Post Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD

Language: English

Word count: 3.1k

Cal Kestis was by no means a lucky man. 

Three of the previous missions he embarked on had gone sour, the Empire somehow finding him at every turn; he didn’t doubt this mission would be any different. Time and time again, the people he tried to help would be killed or captured or maimed or-

“Kid, grab some seat! We’re coming in on Jakku - lots of Imperial chatter going on there…” His pilot, the vertically-challenged hairball he’d been venturing with for most of his adult life, announced over the ship's communications system. 

Cal inhaled shakily, wrapping his hands around his lightsaber and fighting the urge to sense the few echoes he had not seen. Imps were never a good sign, but the young man could only hope the force would fulfil his request for a peaceful rescue just this once. 

The hyperspace travel time was long enough for Cal to familiarise himself with the Hidden Path’s target; an Abednedo male, relatively tall with a solid build, who had an impressive collection of communication codes stored in his safehouse. The codes also contained locations of hidden refugees throughout the galaxy, all hiding from the Empire for one reason or another, and the Path was bent on assisting them no matter the cost.

Cal jogged into the Stinger Mantis’ cockpit, sitting in the co-pilot’s chair - his rightful spot, now that Cere was gone. He looked back towards the cockpit section that allowed the Mantis to track communications from external channels, eyeing Merrin in her position, her eyes firm on the console. Her hair was tied up in a style that Cal adored - A neat bun with a few stray hairs that weren’t long enough to be tied up hanging down, framing her face beautifully. He couldn’t get over how gorgeous she was. 

He then looked to his left, opposite where the Nightsister was seated, and let his gaze rest softly on Kata. It was hard for him to believe how much she had grown and matured, even with her father's absence. She may not have been force-sensitive, but she made up for her lack of abilities with “space magic” - a term that Merrin laughed at - with her capabilities in marksmanship. 

“Cal, you are staring.” Merrin pointed out, her voice sending a wave of warmth throughout Cal’s body, her soft tone putting a slight smile on his face. 

Turning back to look out through the windshields at the barren planet below, Cal noted the Star Destroyers that weren’t far off from them; far enough away not to notice them, but relatively close to their mark. The planet reminded him of Jedha, with plenty of ancient sites burrowed beneath the sand, grasping at the force for somebody to tell their story to. 

Not today, Cal thought. I have somebody to meet. 

Descending into the atmosphere of Jakku, the city of Reetskii grew as they flew across the horizon. The Mantis crew marvelled at the structures they flew past, watching the sands of time move with the winds the ship created as it sped through, eager to find the Abednedo. 

There were few landing bays in the near-forgotten city, but it made sense to have less than 10 areas for spacecraft. Reetskii roughly translated to “the leftovers” in Galactic Basic Standard, having no minerals or ores to mine, and barely enough agricultural facilities to support the settlement - the perfect place to hide away from the Empire. 

Though, not perfect enough, it seemed. 

Upon docking, Cal eyed a stormtrooper squad, their armour gleaming harshly in the Jakkuvian sunlight. It was almost blinding, and had Cal not turned around, he was sure he would have had colourful spots dancing in his eyes from the glint. The Abednedo’s hideout was visible from the landing pad the Mantis was stationed on, his purple skin only just noticeable through a gap in the door. 

“You guys see that?” Cal asked, kneeling behind the ship’s controls to remove himself from the trooper’s field of view. “Small batch of troopers right near the hideout. Do you think they found out about the codes?”

“No,” Merrin replied, squinting to get a better look at the area around their mark. “I do not think they did. The Abednedo is still alive, his body would be dumped outside the building and covered in scorch marks if they knew of the codes.”

“They might want him alive.”

“They do not.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because, Kestis. They have no reason to take him alive.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do, actually”

“Well if you know so karking much why don’t you just-”

Greez cleared his throat, eyes darting nervously between Cal and Merrin. The Latero knew things had been on edge for them lately, and stars knows what caused it, but they had a mission to focus on. Bickering like an old married couple was helping nobody. 

Rolling his eyes and standing from his crouched position, Cal put his arm out to the ship's console, BD-1 taking his place on his shoulder. 

The clock was ticking, and minute by minute the deadline to retrieve the codes was drawing closer. 

Exiting the Mantis to set foot on the dusty walkway of the landing bay, Cal walked with purpose towards the Abednedo’s residence, his gaze flittering around between multiple threats he took mental note of. Funny, he thought, we’ve been communicating with this guy for three cycles and we still don’t know his name. And it was true; the Abednedo was nameless thus far, merely being referred to as “the Jakku contact”. It made Cal feel uneasy, not being able to put a name to the face - it allowed his mind to wander too far, likening the Abednedo to… him. 

Pulling up the hood of his lightweight poncho, Cal continued to close the gap between him and the building the contact was located in, BD letting out a string of beeps and trills. 

There’s a lot of Imperials around here, the droid noted, Merrin might’ve been wrong. 

Oh, how Cal loved it when his little companion took his side during his and Merrin’s spats - it made him feel less lonely in the world. The boy let out a slight chuckle, more a huff of laughter than anything, and strode closer to the door that held the codes. His gait remained confident, to not give away his anxiousness about the entire situation. The force signatures that resided within Reetskii were ill at ease, almost screaming to Cal that something was wrong.

He ignored them. 

Knocking on the door of the hideout, Cal rocked gently on his feet, energy buzzing around him. A small security hatch opened, with a singular eye visible through it - the eye was waiting for a password.  

“Tanalorr welcomes you,” the redhead muttered loud enough for the individual behind the door to hear him. He picked up on the sound of a complex locking mechanism opening, the door sliding open just enough for him to squeeze through. Cal jumped as a large hand rested on his shoulder, his gaze rising to look at the being before him. 

Prauf-

“I got to give you the codes now, kid. Don’t know if you noticed, but the Imps are sniffing around like starved tooka-cats,” the purple-hued brown-skinned humanoid stated, his mahogany eyes trained on Cal, alerting him to the urgency of this task - but Cal couldn’t look away. He couldn’t move. 

Cal knew that he would struggle with this mission before the Mantis entered its two-day-long hyperspace journey to Jakku. He didn’t think he’d freeze up under the watchful eye of an Abednedo that was the spitting image of the second person in Cal’s life to sacrifice their existence so his could continue. Eyes beginning to well with tears that would forever remain unshed, the boy shook his head lightly to bring himself out of his catatonic state. 

“Yeah, yeah, the uh- the codes, right,” he stuttered, grabbing the data disk that contained the valuable information from the Abednedo’s outstretched hand (when had he outstretched his hand?), offering it to BD-1 for safekeeping. “Are you coming with us? There’s plenty of space on the Mantis -  the Hidden Path could use somebody as versatile as you,” he questioned, instilling his tone with a kind of curiosity he could not will himself to truly feel at the current point in time, his mind digging memories to the surface that he would prefer to have stayed buried. 

“That’s the plan, kid,” the contact replied, grabbing a small bag of supplies from a hook behind him. He was dressed casually, with clothing that would keep his large form cool in the desert heat. Cautiously stepping out from the hideout, the Abednedo took a wary glance around, ensuring the stormtroopers wouldn’t notice their hasty departure. 

The Abednedo signalled for Cal to follow him, so he did. Weaving through relatively small alleyways and passing by market stalls, it was evident that the red-haired human was being led a backway to the Mantis’ location. 

They couldn’t be more than twenty paces from docking bays when Cal heard it- the unmistakable shout of a stormtrooper alerting his peers to an individual running around with a lightsaber on his belt. There was no star system in which this could be good for them. 

“You! Stop right where you are, in the name of the Empire!” The trooper shouted, his blaster aimed directly at Cal’s heart. Looking back to the Abednedo, who already had his palms raised in surrender, he knew a split-second decision had to be made. 

Reaching slowly for his lightsaber, the trooper stalked closer to the unlikely pair - perhaps not all that unlikely on Jakku, but still unlikely - barking orders at Cal to not do what he was thinking of doing. Hearing the plastoid dog alerting the rest of his squad to the presence of the Jedi, he knew it was too late to stop what was happening. Blaster bolts began racing towards Cal and the contact, being easily reflected by the Jedi’s brilliant orange ‘saber, its glow matching that of the desert sunset that was encroaching on the horizon. 

The death of the reporting trooper seemed to summon two, three, ten more in front of the two men, most wielding blasters with a few baton-wielding hounds accompanying them. If he were on his own, this group would be easy to dispatch. With an ally in tow, however - not so easy. He would have to keep note of any stray blaster bolts, fired or reflected. He’d have to take note of who the baton wielders were targeting, he’d have to-

The hum of a crimson lightsaber. A scream so primal that it reawakened the abilities of the force that the padawan had lost during the purge. The unmistakable thump of a body hitting the ground.

Except this time, it wasn’t a lightsaber. It wasn’t a scream. It was a shout of surprise, and a body hitting the ground. A body hit the ground. It hit the ground, it hit the ground, it hit the-

An electrified prod woke Cal from his panic, reminding him he was still in a fight. Reminding him he wasn’t on Bracca, he wasn’t being stared down by Inquisitors as he helplessly watched his best friend be murdered in cold blood. He was on Jakku. He was on Jakku, gathering contact codes for the Hidden Path. He was on Jakku, following Prauf - no, not Prauf, an unnamed Abednedo - to the Mantis. 

An unnamed Abednedo that sat against a wall, head slumped, body motionless. An Abednedo that had thumped to the ground. An Abednedo that, like Prauf, was dead. He was dead. Because of Cal and his carelessness and his incorrect assumption that his lightsaber wouldn’t be seen. The incorrect assumption that nobody would notice him slow time, that nobody would notice him use the force. 

Cal couldn’t think. 

He couldn’t breathe.

Prauf, his body lifeless, the ever-present spark in his eyes dissipating, his force signature disappearing, the blade in his chest extinguishing. 

Lifeless. 

Dissipating. 

Extinguished. 

Dead. 

And then Cal was on the Albedo Brave, clones firing at him, his master urging him to activate the controls for the escape pods, and this time? This time, he would fight back. 

Cal spun his ‘saber in his hand, raising it above his head with determination and striking down any clone that dared to show its helmeted face to him. One, two, three, ten clones were dispatched, limbs and heads rolling across the deck of the ship, and as Cal turned around to check on his master, nothing had changed. 

His master lay lifeless on the floor of the escape pod, the rise and fall of his chest dissipating, his life extinguishing before Cal’s eyes. Dead.

One thing had changed throughout all the chaos and confusion felt by the young padawan. 

No last words were exchanged. 

And, Merrin was beside him.

She was resting a loving hand on his cheek, turning his gaze from his Master - no, it was Prauf, and then his Master again - to her. The warmth of Merrin’s touch helped slightly with grounding the boy, but nowhere near what either had hoped.

“Merrin, Merrin you need to go, the Clones are coming, and the Inquisitors, I can’t hold them off for long but you need to run,” he stammered out, breaths ragged and eyes darting around frantically, unable to shake the surroundings his brain had convinced him were real. The walls were closing in, or at least it felt they were to the Jedi. He felt small next to the Nightsister, his juvenile form from the Purge enveloping him the way a jaw plant would to smother its prey. Cal’s breathing continued to be erratic as he brought his hands to the back of his head, interlocking his fingers and rocking himself back and forth in a sorry attempt to release himself from the memories that plagued him. 

A distant voice spoke, and though Cal could not make out what it was saying, he could tell it was trying to comfort him as smoke shrouded him, followed by a flash of green and a feeling of warmth surrounding the young boy. 

He was so, so tired. 

Maybe he should sleep.

Something was wrong, Merrin could tell that much on her own. Even without force abilities as complex as Cal Kestis’, she had enough insight with the power Dathomir bestowed upon her to tell that something was wrong. She had already instructed Greez to start the engines of the ship, and to keep it idle until her return - she didn’t doubt her decision. 

Coming across a tide of amputated appendages and the smell of charred flesh, Merrin’s belief that Cal was in trouble further solidified itself in her mind. Seeing him crouched over a body, body shaking as he took harsh, jagged breaths. She had seen her Jedi like this before, when they had shared a bed at night and he tossed and turned so viciously that he unconsciously threatened to fall out of the Mantis’ sleeping cots. How could he be having a nightmare in broad daylight? Was he sleepwalking? No, he couldn’t be - he was awake when he left to gather the codes, and he slept as well as he could the previous night. Maybe it was what Cere had told her about all those moons ago, something that resembled a nightmare while the person suffering was awake. 

Merrin believed Cere had called it a ‘flashback’. She couldn’t be entirely certain, however. 

As she approached Cal, Merrin could hear him mumbling hurriedly, his sentences sporadic and nonsensical to ears unfamiliar with his past. He was sputtering about how he had failed, and how he was sorry, begging please Prauf I’m sorry, please Prauf, please wake up. The names changed from Prauf to Master too many times for Merrin to keep track. 

She had no idea how to stop this, she didn’t know if she could stop this, but Dathomir be damned if she didn’t try. 

Reaching out an ungloved hand, Merrin rested her palm gently on Cal’s cheek, softly turning his face towards her and away from the body of their contact. Cal had a far-away look to him as if he was looking through her instead of at her, as if he was standing on a planet and looking absent-mindedly to the stars. She rubbed circles on his jawbone with her thumb, willing him to wake from this nightmare, to come back to her and the gifts the future would provide.

And he did. 

Just not in the way she had hoped he would. 

The terror visible in Cal’s eyes tore apart Merrin’s heart, the tears in his eyes falling without shame. Her Jedi was being tortured by his mind, and though he was aware she was here, he did not wake. Spouting out obscenities about the Clones and the Inquisitors closing in, how they would hurt her and how he would hold them off for as long as he could, Cal rose to his feet. He ignited his lightsaber, in a stance that would allow him to block or parry any blows thrown at him, but there were no enemies nearby. There were no Clones or Inquisitors, nor were there any Stormtroopers nearby - he had already dispatched them in ways far more barbaric than Merrin had seen him use before. 

“At ease, my Jedi. You are okay, there is nobody here but you and me. Rest, allow sleep to overcome you,” she whispered tenderly into his ear, worried she might cause him to run. The magic she imbued into her words stopped his flight response, attempting to lull him into a dreamless slumber. Curling himself into the fetal position, Cal sat down and rested against the wall of a hut, interlocking his fingers behind his head. He was… scared. What had he seen that terrified him to the extent it made him regress into a child-like mindset? She could only wonder, as she knew asking Cal any questions while he was in this state would result in answers that made no sense. 

Allowing her magic to surround both of them, Merrin summoned them back to the Mantis, laying Cal down on the potolli-weave fabric of the couch cushions. Greez and Kata looked on with concern, but all she had to do was give a slight nod and they were off, making their way home to Tanalorr. 

Her Jedi could rest easy tonight.

[breakfastteatime]

Cal is quiet after Zeffo. Or, more accurately, he's quiet after the abandoned Venator. Greez wishes more than anything that Cal and Cere weren't still at odds. They're talking, sure, but not as easily as before. Venator is Jedi stuff. It's Cere-and-Cal stuff, not Greez-and-Cal stuff.

Except Cal isn't talking to her the way he needs to and Greez doesn't need psychic abilities to know the kid's hurting. They're enroute to Dathomir, and Cal isn't eating or sleeping the way he needs to.

Greez cannot let it stand.

He takes a plate of cookies and a cup of blue milk to the engine room where Cal is at the workbench, headphones on, lightsaber currently undergoing one of its many tune-ups. The droid is watching with interest... At least Greez figured BD-1's interested. What does he know about droids? Whatever. He gets BD-1's attention, who in turn he pokes Cal. Cal turns, sliding his headphones down and leaving them around his neck. He blinks at Greez, eyes glazed and shadowed, looking for all the worlds like an overtired child.

Crushing an urge to order Cal to bed, Greez holds out the plate. "Cookie?"

Cal looks, shakes his head. "No, thanks."

Gonna be like that, is it? "You gotta eat, so it's cookies and milk, or that weird slimy stuff at the back of the fridge I keep meaning to clean out."

Cal appears to actually consider it. Greez throws a cookie at him. He catches it without blinking, takes a bite. "Thanks," he says listlessly. "It's really good."

"Jeez, kid, really feeling the love."

"Sorry. I like it, promise."

Greez decides to go for the kill. "Didn't find anything good on that wreck, huh?"

Cal slumps. "No."

Greez sits himself on Cal's bed, patting the space next to him. BD-1 gets the message quicker, hopping off the bench and racing over. He starts scanning the plate, announcing his findings in such bright whistle even Greez can't help smiling at the little droid's joy. Cal joins them and takes another cookie and the milk. He dunks the cookie and sips the milk. He's still not talking. 

Silence is not Greez’s gift. "I'm sorry," he says. "I saw a crashed ship and got stupid ideas about treasure in my head. I didn't even think what a Venator meant to you. That was selfish."

Cal doesn't talk until he's finished the milk. "It's okay." He wipes his mouth with a sleeve. "Neither did I." He straightened his back. "I'm okay." He puts on a crooked smile. "It's not the first wrecked Venator I've been aboard." Greez barely represses a shudder. It doesn't matter anyway. Cal looks at him, takes another cookie. "It's alright, really. It happened a long time ago, and it didn't happen to me." And then he laughs. “Not exactly like that, anyway.”

If he wants to convince Greez everything’s fine, Cal’s doing a terrible job. "Anyone ever tell you it’s normal to have a bad day?" Greez asks. “That you don’t have to pretend it’s okay when you feel like someone’s kicked you in the gut?”

"Sure, usually after a bunch of scrappers died, and I had to work triple shifts."

It's all Greez can do not to slap the kid upside the head. "Look, Cal, you don't need to tell me details. You don't have to pretend this isn't getting to you. There's no shame in saying it was really shit, and you wish you hadn't gone aboard."

Cal laughs for real at that. "It was shit, but I needed to go aboard. Had to work through a few things in my head."

"And?"

"And I'll get back to you," he says, grabbing another cookie. He stands, thumping Greez in the shoulder. "Thanks, Greez." He moves back to the workbench, reaching for his headphones. "I appreciate it."

It isn't the outright win Greez had been looking for, but he'll take it. "I'll make soup for dinner." Something light. Something easily reheated if Cal initially refuses. "Two hours. And wash up before you come to the table. I don't want lightsaber grease on my table."

"You got it." And with that, Cal's headphones are back in place and he's back to work.

BD-1 bumps his head against Greez's leg, whistles cheerily, and hurries after Cal. Leaving the cookies on Cal's bed, Greez heads out.

[alenkosx]

Merrin and Cal hugging.

[sketchupnfries]

Some Dark Side Cal since I'm still thinking about that game

[breakfastteatime]

You have to think too that the very first time he uses it is when the clones kill Master Tapal.................

I keep learning about Cal’s abilities on wiki and I keep regretting doing so because I just learned this:

Force Slow was a dark side Force power used by Sith and Dark Jedi. This power clouded the target's mind, causing them to slow down both mentally and physically.

…Why does Cal have a Force ability that he’s had since a kid that’s associated with the dark side?

[ironhoshi]

I just wanted you to know that not only has your writing gotten me from having zero opinion on Boba Fett for literal decades to absolutely loving him, but I am also firmly on the Kesett train now. Thank you for sharing your writing!

You have no idea how much I needed this message. Thank you so much. 💜 I'm glad to hear I helped you love Boba and the Kesett madness!

[flammabel]

I finally posted chapter 13. Yay!

[morathicain]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars - Jedi Survivor (Game) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Cal Kestis/Merrin Characters: Merrin (Star Wars), Cal Kestis Additional Tags: happens after the defeat of Rayvis in Survivor, Cal Kestis Needs a Hug, and some sleep and rest and a shower, Merrin cares, tbh they both need a hug, Self-Doubt, Unresolved Tension, and suppressed feelings, the feelings are requited but they haven't talked about it yet, I may need some rest too, Cuddles, sleeping, Cal is exhausted, Soft Cal Kestis, POV Cal Kestis, no beta we die like Rayvis, Can you tell that I need some fucking rest too?, Fluff, no spoilers past Rayvis defeat, Canon Divergent Summary:

Cal has defeated Reyvis and is troubled by self-doubt. He needs some rest and a hug. Maybe Merrin needs some, too.

[flammabel]

This whole video coupled with the music gives me the chills. Cal, always fighting, never giving up, and pushing on with little regard for himself. Selfless. Caring. Strong. Skilled. Honest. Genuine.

"You're a great fighter, Cal." Gee Bode I wonder why.

My heart aches for this man. My sweet ginger Jedi.

Another Cal Kestis edit because this song fits a little too well

[breakfastteatime]

Hiya! I sent an ask a while ago about Greez bundling up Cal for the cold on Ilum lol, but now I'm having feels on the default being the Bracca poncho... It's an emotionally heavy poncho at this emotional point of the game! Does anyone recognize this? Is it a comfort blanket situation? Or are his other ponchos still in the laundry?

Greez won't let Cal off the ship until he's wearing at least one extra layer. Cal remembers Ilum's bitter chill from his last trip here, except back then there hadn't been a storm, and he'd been surrounded by other Jedi. The cold barely features in his memory, honestly. Mostly, he remembers how afraid he'd been of failure, and how wonderful it had been to find his crystal and see his lightsaber working for the first time.

He doesn't think it will be so easy a test this time.

Cal heads to the engine room, where BD-1 makes a few suggestions about what Cal should wear. Cal appreciates his friend's concern. Yes, he probably should consider bundling himself up in every poncho he owns. Instead, he reaches for the one he's had the longest. The poncho from Bracca has seen him through a lot of bad weather. It's been a blanket and a pillow on a few occasions too. Sure, it was mass-produced and effectively a uniform, but it's Cal's. He's had it since he grew out of his last one. He knows all the Jedi lessons on attachment to possessions, and right now he does not care. He needs something to hold onto, something familiar and reliable. This poncho is very nearly the only constant he has in his entire life, and if he thinks about that too hard, he is absolutely going to come apart. It's going to see him through whatever happens here.

Pulling it on, Cal takes a deep breath and prepares to face his next challenge.

(Anon, I could NOT resist this! The Bracca Poncho is officially Cal's Emotional Support Poncho)

[wayfaringjedi]

"How?"

I think of all the beautiful moments in this game, it is this simple question that stays with me most. I remember asking an adult in my life a similar question, once; and I remember how their answering silence felt, too.

[arunicdeath]

I told someone I was gonna draw a Mandalorian Cal, and so I did. I just call him Calmando. Originally his armor was supposed to have a lot more orange than it currently does.

I'm not going into the AU this is part of but know what he got picked up off Bracca before JFO and somehow still ends up helping things out on Koboh.

[purelightning7]

There’s a sort of haunted, pained look in his eyes

[sunderedazem]

Koboh