Mo'Ona was a Hux of many problems. Never would he deny such. In fact, many of his issues were quite self-inflicted. Badges of honor, he'd call them, carrying the metaphorical awards with pride as a sign of a life lived in a perpetual battle against boredom. Adrenaline, risk, fear… these were the things that kept his little heart beating. Sure, he'd faced death many times before, he was an Asteroid Racer after all, but he'd always come out on top be it through skill or guile or acting…

He'd come out on top by himself, be it in spite of existence or just pure dumb luck, but it had been him and him alone.

Mo'Ona had never been saved by anyone in his entire skittering life.

Born to a family of forty-eight siblings and a pair of parents who'd never even noticed he was there- in fact, it was an effort to even remember their names… Mo'Ona had memories not of family but of feeling alone in a room full of his brothers and sisters. His fellow middle children had similarly been invisible, the oldest and youngest sapping up the family's attention like bread in soup. When he'd left the only home he'd ever known, bereft of any warm memories to take with him and only half a knapsack of belongings, his parents and even many of his siblings didn't even notice.

Such things weren't uncommon. Hux procreated like their species was on the brink of extinction, leaving all but their most successful offspring to fend for themselves. Those left behind were practically expected to leave in order to reserve resources for the more… productive and charismatic of the horde. Those first few years had been the hardest. Mo'Ona learned the feel of boots to his ribs and ears, memorized the sound of shuffling feet readying a punt his direction, and came to expect pain when he got underfoot of the larger species. It was normal to hit Hux.

And of all the people to never hit him, to not hurt him in the least… the only person he ever felt safe around…

Was Mad fucking Jack… Mad Jack had been the only one to ever really stick his neck out for him, to risk it all… To not slam his boot into his ribs or stomp on his tail or shoot at him. Mo'Ona remembered how it felt to lose sight of the Gerthtrude in the Last Stop Staryard, to feel his back slam into debris and spin wildly out of control… further and further into the void. What had terrified the little Hux even more had been how simple and easy it had been to accept that he was going to die. He'd just… curled up and contemplated the easiest way to go. How very… Hux of him. That is… until he felt Jack slam into his back. Until he felt those alloy arms secure him so tight it had been hard to breathe.

That had nearly made him wee his suit, though he'd never tell.

How he'd clung to the Human, his claws clenching at the straps on the front of the man's armor, his helmet against his chest… A flutter in his own tiny bosom had made his whiskers tremble as he fought down urges he knew wouldn't be reciprocated. This went beyond his usual, beyond his lust and sordid desires. Not that he'd ever deny wanting a night with the burly mechanic but this… this was different. Even twirling through space, their supply of navigating gas dwindling and safety very much not assured… Even as death loomed closer and closer… For the first time in Mo'Ona's life he'd felt…

Safe.

Protected.

Like he could just stop for a while, and someone would ensure he didn't die.

It was new, it was uncomfortable, and it forced him to do something he hated; sit down and think. Jack was taken, and Lix's hissing and snapping fangs had told him all he needed to know about her thoughts on sharing, but still… he'd let her know over text his burgeoning confusing feelings. Not to mention that he was feeling them over The Butcher of Koorka Station. It was absurd and made him sound like a bad protagonist in a cheesy high school flick novel. Which only exacerbated his worry when he'd gotten a return text.

Lix had said she'd… get back to him…

Joy.

As if he didn't have enough anxiety without making his new captain think he was after her mate. Not that it would do any good, Skrunkles didn't think he had the equipment to be a good match for Jack on a surface level. That didn't ease the tumultuous and frankly annoying emotions wrestling in his drug addled heart. He could do without a journey of self-discovery in the middle of freaking League. Like most feelings, he'd bury it beneath thrills, alcohol, drugs, and hedonism. It worked for everything else after all! Besides, lusting after a guy for his heart instead of his loins was super weird in his professional opinion, something a dumb ass would do. After all, he was damaged goods, why would Jack ever want him in such a way when he had Lix? Mo'Ona was dirty, filty in more ways than one, with a rap sheet that would turn away anyone with a sane mind.

Still… his family hadn't done what Jack did… his brothers or sisters or parents would have left him for dead. He'd have done the same for them in turn. It was just the Hux way… Maybe Jack didn't want him drifting in the same graveyard as his people or maybe he really did embody that 'no one left behind' attitude Mo'Ona had seen in some mercenaries and service guys. So what could he do now? What was the best course of action while he waited for Lix's response? What was the next best thing when you couldn't have what you wanted- who you wanted? Make yourself really, really useful to them. Which was exactly what Mo'Ona had done, with a little help of course. Hux in general were quite adept at going unseen, no one wanted to see them in the first place after all. Vermin of the galaxy they were called, so it was even easier when everyone's eyes were on someone else.

Like when Angela had waxed this and that about… whatever it was celebrity announcers waxed about. Jack had kept her jawing, egging her on to greater and greater heights, all the while little Skrunkles clung to Lix's leg with a neat little device tucked nicely in his pocket. Jack had called it a flipper or a scraper, something Tik Tik had made up for him back in the day. These little buggers weren't uncommon but they were highly illegal. Normally, the moment it was activated, every security scanner in the room would have detected the nefarious device meant to steal clearances, codes, and Roark PINs. As such, Mo'Ona could only marvel at the sea of upgrades and black market add ons Tik Tik had wired into the paw wide drive. On any other given day, the little Hux would have drooled at the thought of slinking around a room full of rich assholes like the banquet hall, stealing everything he could, but this sneaky little thing had a purpose. A purpose Jack had set him to.

Trust…

Just another thing he was unused to.

This, however, was so much fun. Watching Jack and Angela joust while he scraped every bit of transmitted clearance off the woman was delicious. So enraptured she was in the back and forth that she hadn't even noticed. For that matter, neither had the facility, either a testament to Tik Tik's skill or a black mark on the League's supposedly legendary cyber security. Either way, he had everything he needed to enact phase two of Jack and Lix's crazy off the cuff plan.

Currently, while the sexy Human was off guarding the Gerthtrude and the scaly pilot enjoying her newfound fame as a 'Roid Racer, Skrunkles was once again squeezed between the pipes that ran through the walls. As usual, especially in these pop-up facilities, they had no security for idiots who risked getting stuck where no one would find them. In fact, this was… tighter than expected.

"Sometimes… nggghhh! Skrunkles wish… he was Greer!" Bones popped and ligaments stretched as he wriggled his way towards the facility communication center armed with what little Jack's scraper had been able to gleam from Angela. It was enough, however, to do some dirty peeking. Most of what he'd gotten was unusable; be it easily detected or slathered with systems that had their own security. What he did have, however, was exactly what the crew needed.

The League made it a point to record and edit the cloak and dagger mess that riddled pre-race staging grounds before every circuit, releasing them like episodic drama's to those who could afford pay-per-view access. Most couldn't, so the whole ordeal was shrouded in mystery. What had to happen though, was nearly invasive monitoring of communication and crew movement. In the history of the show, called Racer's Guile, Mo'Ona could remember three times in his life that the valuable data had been breached. Each time, instead of hardening security, they'd simply changed it, allowing for repeated attempts. Subterfuge was the name of the game, and if a crew or pilot could get away with it, all they had to do was hype up the mystery and perform an investigation into just how private data got breached. It made for some of the best ratings, intrigue and interest abound when the crowd was kept guessing, after all.

"Geeeehhhhh heh ha ha aaahhhhh…" A final euphoric pop of his pelvis made the rat's eyes bulge as he finally came in line with the communication room on the facility's second floor, just below the massive dish Jack had seen while on his jaunt into the woods to get a good view of the building without looking suspicious. "Yeeeesssss…" He hissed, feeling the device buzz in his pocket. All he had to do now was access his own comms unit, piggyback the scraper, and dive right in to all that juicy juicy data using Angela's own credentials.

***

Murder had once been Jack's go to solution for many things. Tax man came a callin'? There was an airlock for that issue. Non-paying customer trying to get their ship back? Well, boy howdy, a quick trip to the incinerators and a waltz through their now empty quarters fixed the loss of funds right up! Gooey Greer keeping your beloved Gerthtrude trapped in a filthy hangar, just apply cryo grenades!

It was a simple, easy, perhaps not so clean but very quick and permanent fix to many of life's conundrums. Though, that is to say it may or may not have caused him some trouble in the past. Minor, of course, nothing he couldn't handle… Liliana didn't like it… and Lix probably really wouldn't like it… What they didn't know couldn't hurt them, however. Which, for the fool trying to put his greasy dick skinners all over the Gerthtrude's airlock, was a good thing. Jack needed the touchy bastard alive.

Reaching slowly, like a descending spider grasping for a fly, Jack hooked his metallic fingers under the man's jawbone and pulled. Had he not wedged his boot into a space between slats in the drive bell, he'd have simply drug himself down to the ground. As it were, the intruder found himself silently and quickly hoisted into the Gerthtrude's thruster compartment with the strength of biomechanical implants. A scream died in his throat, hard metal digits keeping his teeth clamped together as he was dragged deeper into the dark. Eyes wildly snapped to the sound of Jack's breathing as the mechanic knelt on the man's chest, his own optical implants whirring nearly imperceptibly as he searched the fool for upgrades of his own.

There were some… but nothing major, and more importantly, nothing transmitting.

A fist lanced at his eyes, homing on their gentle clicking. Jack simply lurched back before lifting the man's head from the thick metal he'd pinned him against, slamming his skull back down with a dull crunch. Panicked hands scrabbled at his jacket, his face- his throat, before his own latched upon the struggling rival crew man's arm. A quick shift of his hips, a turn of his body-

SNAP

Jack drove his hips into the man's elbow, his own grip forcing the arm straight at a painful angle. The delicate joint gave like wet tinder, his mouth splitting in a scream that died as his assailant clamp those very same cold and uncaring hands around his mouth. Bones split the skin and the stark yellow utility suit, toothpicks of white and off yellow, accented by a spray of bright red punching through the cloth.

"Talkin' be better than fightin' since ya ai'n't good at it." Jack suggested, pressing the panting man down into the metal. "Start with ya name. I'm Jack, nice ta meet ya! Now normally I'd just off ya and be done with it but my scaly lady would get all mad at me an' then I'd have to make it up to her, ya understand." All he was answered with was whimpering, angry and defiant, through clenched teeth below glaring pain filled eyes. "Not talkative? Ya sure was lookin' all excited when ya were puttin' ya hands all over my ship. Ya don't just grab a lady's ass like tha', ya gotta wine an' dine 'er!"

Now it was Jack's turn to be… upset. For some reason he found the whole situation… rude. If subterfuge and cheating was just part of the game, then why was this guy angry he had gotten caught? Ah well, bad apples were part of every tree, he supposed. Not that he'd ever seen the titular Earth fruit, nor ever stepped foot on the Human home world. Either way, this was something he was more than willing to throw at his Kux'lar amore and be done with. Or at least put off on her which would in turn generate more work for him which… he found himself pleasantly surprised to not mind the thought. Back when he'd been somewhat dating Lily, or at least attempting to in the midst of the chaos that was old Koorka Station, he'd have balked at the idea of letting someone else dictate his time in any way, shape, or fashion. Now though, if it were Lix…

"Well shit," He proclaimed to no one as he squeezed the air from the man's throat. "I'm fuckin' cloaca whipped."

***

Lix was having fun. Far more than she thought she would. The camera, she found, was a stage she discovered not just comfortable but pleasing. The damn bot had finally stopped interrupting her and listened like a good little bundle of wires and circuits as she undulated her tail and gestured with her claws. It wasn't even hard to ham it up for the ratings, all she had to do was say what was on her mind. She had many, many opinions, after all.

"You see allllll those old corps racers with their special bots and real questions? Yeah, I get it, these little check mark questionnaires you give us newbies are just something you give us so you have a speculation segment but it's short sighted. We just listened to this diatribe from Angela about cutting the fat from the new generation of racers then not even five minutes later we're getting swept aside for the same faces everyone has seen over and over again?" She let her tail slump, rolling her slit pupil eyes. That wasn't even something she believed… not entirely… but it would get someone's attention. "I mean, I do get it. We haven't really cut our fangs yet. Not like they have, they're champions!" Several of her fellow newbies, none of whom she actually knew, had stopped their own interviews to turn and watch as the Kux'lar went very much off script. Even some champions were turning her way with either bemusement or outright disdain at the audacity of the lizard. Most had already said their piece and retired for the night, but some… Helena approached with a wide, beaming smile, waving her hand for the younger racer to ignore her. So… Lix did just that. "I mean, come on, if you want real drama, if you really wanna see how the new stacks up against the old, have some cross interviews with us and them!"

"Oh sugar plum, I like the way you think!" Helena clapped, her rosy cheeks crinkling ever so slightly to betray the vast amounts of money she'd poured into hiding her age. "Ya know, we did just such a thang last year! It got heated in a right nasty way though, so they didn't think to air it." The woman waved a hand to hide her annoyance as another drone buzzed just a tad too close, dutifully recording every word. "But I agree, sugah! Sometimes, it's us racers who know how to run the show better! Tell lil' ol' me, Lix, if you could say without repercussions who is the most likely champion to fall behind… who would it be?"

This was it.

Lix knew a trap when she saw one. Still… the Kux'lar that didn't pull out to the head of the pack was left eating the other hunters' scraps. It was time to make enemies and wary allies. The green flag didn't drop tomorrow… it dropped now. She already knew what she wanted to say, who's name she wanted to drop… but how was just as important.

"Gultian. He's probably the most skilled pilot but in terms of combat he's definitely vulnerable. It's why he takes such risky shortcuts like the Hulian Gap. If he gets caught out in a straight or in a crossfire, he'll really need to lean on that fancy flying to avoid becoming a cloud. It's why he focuses so hard on early leads to avoid things like missile lock on or laser range. You can fly circles around observably still asteroids at full thrust all day long but you get shot down before you're even halfway through the first lap, what's it matter?" Lix shrugged, eating the attention and Cheshire grin bestowed upon her by her senior racer. "On the other paw, you have racers like Tarlin or Mo'Ona who excel in ship-to-ship combat to open up breathing room for those more cluttered sections of the route, like area seven." The Kux'lar rose a claw to the still projected yellow ring on the far wall. Section seven was lazy with heavily bunched clusters of asteroids. A veritable mine field for anyone who liked to have their speed over seventy percent thrust. "You'll see racers like them do the opposite; steady burns while keeping opponents at bay with missiles or long-range projectile launchers so they don't pancake themselves making distance." Across the banquet hall, Gultian himself watched impassively, his clawed avian feet stepping slowly towards the growing crowd. He was a tall thing called a Kortuk with dark gray feathers and a stark yellow beak that framed beady yellow eyes. Gultian held his arms in the same fashion as a terrestrial bird would; close to his chest so the long pinfeathers of his forearms, protectively encased in cloth sheaths, ran down his sides. Unlike Helena or Lix herself, he wore nothing more than a long flowing sash that kept him decent. No flight suit, no fancy threads… just a single dull black cloth bearing a gold trim that glittered in the dim light.

This is what mice feel like when cats stare at them… Lix thought, nodding to the legendary racer. The large bird had been a staple of every League for the past twenty cycles and garnered a following of old hats that felt themselves the 'refined' fans of the sport. Instead of speaking, Gultian stared and stared, the cameras rolling and crowed watching, before he clacked his beak several times.

"She reminds me of Hec'San, don't you think?" With a voice like metal sliding on cloth, Gultian addressed Helena and Helena alone, his beady avian eyes never leaving Lix. He… hadn't nodded back. "A bright little star trying to shine in an old galaxy. Apt in her observations but… will it matter?"

"Oh posh, ya old turkey." Helena smiled, leaning on the Kortuk with a friendly smile. If he strained under her weight, he didn't show it. "I remember bein' where she was; all hyped up and feelin' stepped on by the old guard."

"Indeed. Hopefully she had had practice with that new laser I hear has been installed on the No Safety Measures. A race is no place to be training with new gear. Nor is it proper grounds to be burning your ship into slag for placement." Not once did his eyes leave the younger racer's. By the stars, it was hard to tell if he was even breathing. "Much like me her combat experience is lacking, that is, unless she hands controls over to the criminal element on her crew from Koorka… nasty little place." Helena pat his feathery shoulder at the accusation, laughing uproariously as more and more drones crowded like a bubble of gnats. A mechanical peanut gallery catching the exchange from every angle.

"Hey! Ha, if a scrap is what she got the guy for then Koorka the place to do it! You get fish from a pond after all, sugah."

"If," Lix started with a measured smile. "My crew is in question then let me just say I trust 'em with my life."

"Even Mo'Ona?" Gultian regarded her directly for the first time, the room reduced to his slim, beaked face, Helena's plastered grin, and Lix's wavering smile. "You know… he's been on crews before. That little rat doesn't stick so close to anyone he isn't using for protection and promising the stars to them, after all."

"Of course I know. I did profile you, after all. Mo'Ona betrayed Aaron Muphla two seasons ago, and dropped support for Lutrita last season. My back is covered, trust me. Is yours though? I hear people outright refuse to ally with you."

"I'm here, aren't I? Been in the game since you were an egg." Gultian crowed, Helena rolling her eyes as she lifted from his shoulder.

"Age just makes us old, hon. Ya know these youngins gonna replace us sooner or later." The air seemed to chill as the Human ran her finger down the length of the Kortuk's face, smiling gently. Like a scalpel poised over taught meat… "Best start having fun, love. Could be the last time we get to have it."

"Indeed." Finally, Gultian nodded, short and crisp, to both Lix and the attending crowd before turning to leave with Helena on his wing. Lix felt… unsatisfied, as if she'd went in for a boxing match and got smacked around by the points system. Her footing felt weaker, less sure, instead of the high she'd been riding talking shit to the now absconding drones. This was what it felt like to be noticed by titans, she decided, her scaly chin dropping just an inch or two where it once was held high. She'd show them, she'd show them al-

The far doors burst open, pandemonium and chaos flowing into the once quieting banquet hall as yelling guards filtered in along with-

"Jaaaaack, what the fuuuuuck?" Lix sighed, her claws rubbing her muzzle as her Human, the precious, idiotic, troublesome, fool, dragged in what appeared to be a much younger man with a very broken arm wearing Helena's crew colors. Oh, by the stars, he was going to embarrass her in front of her favorite racer. Several guards tried to bar his progress, one hollering for medical while the others shouted that the media session was still in progress. He ignored them all, lifting the whimpering man with his cybernetics while taking a hit of painkillers from a breathalyzer held between his teeth.

"Helena! Ya still in here?" He screamed around the bit of plastic, his eyes whirring as he literally scanned the crowed. "Helena! I got one o' ya boys snoopin' round my ship!" True to form, Helena simply laughed, her voice ringing through the resulting silence like a lance. It was a pause in the torrent of attention that had centered around Lix, her eyes flashing as she quickly accessed her comms.

Her scaly muzzle stuck still in that annoyed, exasperated, frown at the distant Human even though all she wanted to do was smile.

"Okay Skrunkles, you're up."

"Gooooood copy!"

Sequestered between the walls a floor above, the little Hux that no one seemed to pay attention to watched closely as the sea of communication, both outgoing and incoming, raced through the screens. A quick filter for Helena's saved ID and he had exactly what they were looking for.

"Every single one of you check your uniforms. I've no idea who this guy is, but that utility suit is legit."

"Team lead here, ma'am, standby."

"Take your time sugar. This is getting interesting."

"Well, ai'n't you a sorry sight?" Heels clacking upon the banquet hall floor, Helena strode to the glaring man with a predatory twinkle dancing in her eyes. The smile plastered to her doctored face never reached her eyes, accusation in her pin prick pupils. "I know that uniform an' it ai'n't no forgery. But I don't know you." A painted nail hooked under her chin, forcing the imposter's eyes to meet hers even as Jack held him aloft. "My crew is full, ya hear? Who even are ya?"

"W-What the fuck are you even talking about?" Trapped, eyes wild, Jack's prisoner spit as he clawed at the mechanic's alloy hand clamped around his broken arm. "You hired me. You gave me this uniform!"

"Honey doll, I never seen you in my life."

"You- you bitch!"

"Rude." Helena scoffed as Jack let the man fall, his eyes gently tracing back and forth as he read Mo'Ona's messages. "Such a foul mouth on ya, sugah."

"If he ai'n't yours, how'd he get a uniform?" Jack demanded, rubbing his chin in thought. It was Gultian who answered, slowly stepping closer with his large taloned feet.

"Subterfuge is the name of the game," He crowed as the drones took in the scene. "Framing a rival team has been a successful tactic befor-"

"I told you! I'm on her team! She hired me to do this exact thing!" The man shouted, blanching as the avian racer slowly turned his sharp beak downwards at the interruption. Helena simply scoffed, throwing her hair over one shoulder.

"I have done that before, but I wouldn't hire someone like ya. That kinda wet work needs a professional touch. Not somethin' ya got, obviously. I'd ask who ya workin' for but…" Slowly, the woman's eyes turned towards Lix. "This smells like somethin' ya do to yaself to pin on someone you're tryin' to make look bad." Now it was Lix's turn to scoff, her scaly head tilting.

"Ma'am, with all due respect, I'm broker than the dirt outside." Lix set the back of her paws on her haunches, eyeing the despairing man lying on the floor.

"Is that why the No Safety Measures was seen with upgrades outside Koorka Station?" Gultian clacked his beak, still staring down at what was looking more and more like prey to the bird.

"Maybe you'll find out tomorrow, feather boy." Lix, in a show of maturity and wisdom, stuck her tongue out at the more experienced racer. "What are we gonna do with this fella though?" Lix padded over to the man who edged away from the approaching carnivore, her maw dipping down to lap at his blood.

"Leave 'im here." Jack suggested, booting the man in the ribs. "Whoever hired the dumb bastard will either come rescue him 'fore he bleeds out an' we'll know who was had the bright fuckin' idea to mess wit' my ship, or he'll keel over an' he's, at least, no longer a problem."

"That's cold Jack." Lix hissed, rubbing up against the man as guards approached.

"We'll see to him, if you please." Buckethead Number Five, as Lix dubbed him, reached down to pull the man to his feet, his face paling by the second. "Last thing I need on my report is a corpse."

"You'll let us know who comes to collect him, of course." Lix smiled, wide and toothy, as they dragged the now mumbling fool away to parts unknown. She doubted they'd ever see him again or figure out who he belonged to, that is, unless Skrunkles gleaned some information.

"Miss Helena? Andrews is missing one of his uniforms. Everyone else is accounted for."

"Well fuck my feet. See if you can convince the guards to get hallway footage. I want whoever tried to frame me on a pike and spinning like a stripper."

Well… that answered that…

"Oh! Oh oh, little camera dude!" Lix waved her claws as the drones began to disperse. One hovered, paused, then languidly lowered as if it were exasperated at yet another interruption. "Ahem! Okay okay, ahem! Okay, get my good side." Lix wiggled, shook her tail, and bounced on her paws as Jack raised an eyebrow.

"What… are ya doi-" Before he could finish, Lix fixed the drone lens with a smile and a two fingered salute, her maw split in a melodic chant that rang like wind chimes.

"Supeeer wheeaat! It's really sweet! We put it in a vat until it's mushy and weak! Add a little water! Add a little heat! That's how you make Bucephalus' Treat!" Finishing with a twirl, Lix gave the camera a little giggle and a wink. "It's my favorite beer, from the makers of Meelk, of course!"

Helena practically died laughing on the spot.

"Oh darlin', ya be shameless!"

"Naaaah," Lix waved the bot away. "Just tryin' to get a sponsor! Us poors have to use our resources." None of her fellow racers, not even her own mechanic, seemed to support her idea! Though… the latter had smiled at her little song and dance, so she had that going for her. Claws on her hips, she continued her tail's back and forth jig as she pinned the Human with a glare as the crowd dispersed, an overhead announcement alerting them that the festivities were over and that reveille for launch tomorrow was in ten standard hours.

"W… what?" He asked, looking about as if that would save him from the raptor's ire. "What did I do?"

"Communication, Jacky. Even our little rat is keeping me appraised of what he's doing. When were you going to alert me to an attempted break in and that you were going to cart the guy through the freaking media session? I could have been better prepared!"

"Ah… well, I mean…"

"Where was that on point comms you had when we were doing your ops back on Koorka, hm?" Lix twisted her head, pinning the man with a single, slit pupil eye. "Hmmmm?"

"I guess I got a bit excited?"

Lix simply sighed, padding over to press her head to her mate's shoulder.

"C'mon dude, this is only my dream here."

"You're right," Jack admitted, wrapping his arms around her thin shoulders. "I ai'n't goin' about this with the same uh… pizzazz as shootin' up the Vents an' stuff."

"As long as you fix it. I'm in charge buster."

"Yes ma'am."

"That's what I like to hear." They stayed there for a few moments longer, in plain view of anyone who cared to watch. Lix simply trilled at Helena's good night and warm smile. "Warm…"

"Should we make use o' those fancy rooms they got for us?" Jack asked, squeezing her as he sent a quick message to Mo'Ona to egress. Lix frowned, thinking of the assuredly posh and fancy rooms with their silk sheets and pillowy beds… surrounded by her fellow racers and their crews… As much as she wanted to try those beds and maybe a bath in what had to be pure luxury…

"I wanna go home. We got a big day tomorrow and I need some familiarity, as silly as that sounds."

"Home… oh. Say no more scaly lady." Jack kissed the Kux'lar on her nose, earning himself a happy trill as Mo'Ona joined them, rubbing his hip with a self-satisfied grimace.

"Nyeh… S-Skrunkles do good?"

"Skrunkles did good. You know you did, ya lil' gremlin." Lix showed her teeth down at the rat, though… not in a threat. Some strange half smile half scoff. He really was growing on her. "Is the Spitfire safe?"

"Yeah huh! She's gots… securities."

"I don't wanna know… We're gonna rack up in the Gerthtrude. See you on the track!" With that, Jack and Lix turned on their heels back towards the exit for the launch pads, leaving Mo'Ona to shift his weight from paw to paw. He had his own room, his own ship too, and yet…

"Ngh… ugh… um!"

"Move your tail, Skrunks. I'm sure I got a pile of dirty clothes you can sleep on or something." Jack looked back over his shoulder with a grin, one the Hux mirrored as he hurried along to catch up with his friends…

Friends…

"Liking this whole not being a back-stabbing prick thing you're trying out?" Lix giggled as her fellow pilot joined them, their path unimpeded all the way to the launch pads. It seemed they were the late nighters.

"Yeah, actuallys. This is… nice." Whiskers trembled and eyes bulged in a, frankly, disturbing Hux blush as Mo'Ona followed them up the Gerthtrude's airlock, the stress and tension slipping from his shoulders like wet ice once the heavy hatch shut behind them. Yet still he followed them; up the lift to the second deck, down the hallway, and to Jack's personal quarters. The duo entered comfortably while he hesitated at the door, Lix smiling at her Human while he shook his head.

"Oh hell no! There's literally two other crew quarters!"

"Oh come on. Lounging is fun."

"He's covered in bugs, if I have to remind you."

"He can keep them on him, if you haven't noticed."

"It's trues!" Mo'Ona balled his little paws, suddenly quite interested in their conversation. "I-I-I cans control 'ems! I cans… sleeps at the foot of the beds? Won't even nows I'm heres!"

"Why?" Jack raised an eyebrow as he removed his boots, Lix already under the covers of his cot. "You could have an entire bed to yourself."

"Cause… ah…." Because I'm learning that I don't like to be alone…

Lix frowned, looking between the two males before pulling Jack into bed with her.

"Come on, Skrunkles. We've a big day tomorrow. Don't worry about it Jack, let us soak up that sweet, sweet monkey heat you keep hogging."

"This is so gay." Jack grumbled, scowling until Lix pressed her muzzle beneath his chin.

Mo'Ona did not stay at the foot of the bed. As Lix clung to Jack's side, and her Human pulled her in close, he found himself curling up on the man's stomach, warm and safe, his face angled away from the pair where they couldn't see his happy tears. Tomorrow was the first of the big races, a deadly dance through the stars pushing mind and machine to the brink. It would be his fifth circuit, his fifth League… any other time, those races would be his only priority, his only care… and yet… the warmth permeating his fur from below and the slowing breaths of his companions… suddenly the race wasn't the best thing ever anymore. It was insane to think about, something that had the rat stifling incredulous chuckles and trying to dry his eyes without shifting the Human he was using as a heating pad. He could smell them… Lix carried the scent of sand and cloth and scale polish and Jack… and Jack smelled like oil and metal and sweat and male... Scent was important to Hux, it was how they differentiated siblings and left trails home…

Home…

Mo'Ona hadn't had a home in a long, long time…

He'd like this to be home.

"Fuck yas, Ma an' Pa. Looks at Mo'Ona nows…" He whispered, trying to stop the happy, hot tears. "Looks at Mo'Ona nows."

And it was with that realization, that he could have this so much sooner if he'd just given up the Hux way and not used people, not betrayed people, that sleep finally took him.

Not this time.

Not this time.