Chapter 10: Naming Conventions

Clubs were not a place that Elara frequented, regardless of whether she was on duty or not. The number of people, questionable drinks, and music that was almost never to her liking had kept her away whenever previous colleagues had invited her out, though to be fair that had been few and far between. As Jorgen had led them through the streets a couple levels below the top level of Coruscant, Elara had begun to mentally prepare herself for an exhausting night. Even though she’d leave as soon as she felt like it wasn’t rude, it would almost certainly be too long.

Which was why now, after having been in the club Jorgen had led them to for a half an hour, she could not get over the fact that it was actually a downright pleasant place to be. Jorgen had called it a club, and the subdued sign outside had labeled it “Club Aiwha”, yet it was unlike any club Elara had ever stepped inside.

For one thing, it wasn’t painfully loud. There was no worry that sleep would be difficult to come by due to a fresh bout of tinnitus in her ears. She could actually hear the conversation without needing to resort to reading lips. In addition to all of that, the music was actually somewhat enjoyable. More of a low energy type, not the pounding bass and repeated screeching melodies she was expecting. At the moment the song was some kind of Felucian synth jazz, which akin to something Elara would listen to on her own.

The crowd was also pleasantly sparse. Everywhere you looked there were patrons, but only a few, not a teeming sea of bodies throughout the space. It hadn’t been too difficult to find a table for the three of them, as Forex had opted to seek out a droid mechanic he had heard about, which was probably for the best; the club was not exactly accommodating for hulking war droids. The bar was fairly full, with only a single empty stool, and there was a dance floor that was being used sparingly. The lights were low, the upholstery was generally clean, and the colors were subdued but inviting.

All in all, a far cry from what Elara had expected. And not at all what she expected out of Jorgen either.

“So, is this a common locale for you?” she asked the Cathar, idly swirling the Alderaanian spiced ale she had ordered.

“I’ve been here a few times, sure,” Jorgen said, taking a pull from his beer bottle. “Not my general scene, but I figured it would be more in line for what the two of you would appreciate.” He tilted his bottle toward Elara and Lacroix before polishing it off and pushing up off of his seat. “I’m gonna grab another. Anybody need a refill?”

Elara shook her head, as did the captain. As Jorgen walked away, Elara leaned her elbows onto the table. “That was awfully thoughtful of him,” she commented, more to herself than anything.

“What, that he picked a location he thought we’d like?” Lacroix was leaning back, her empty glass in front of her. “He’s a good person, Jorgen. Took a little bit to get over the fact that I got command of the unit, but he has never done anything but support me. I’m not surprised at all that this is the kind of place he brought us.” Lacroix absentmindedly tapped the side of her glass as she looked at Elara. “Just means that he knows you’re good people too.”

Her cheeks warmed and she looked down at her drink. “Thank you, Captain.”

Lacroix chuckled. “You realize we’re technically off duty right now, right?”

“Obviously. Do you think I would be drinking otherwise?” Elara joked, deflecting. She knew what the captain was angling toward, but she wasn’t going to go there herself. It was already muddied enough with how she might be feeling about her without adding to it.

Lacroix laughed again then shrugged. “You don’t need to only use my rank. It’s fine if you want to just call me Lacroix in familial settings. Or Eko, if that’s any better. It might make it easier to feel like we have somewhat of a life outside of our duties to the Republic.”

Elara’s fingers tightened around her glass. She still hadn’t established a plan on how she wanted to proceed with her nascent feelings, and loosening up the rules of their relationship was only going to add more variables to account for. “So I should call you Eko while you continue to call me Dorne?”

Another shrug. “Whatever you’re comfortable with. Jorgen refused my offer to use my first name, so there’s no pressure on you. Just trying to accommodate my squad.” She tapped a finger against her glass again, staring unfocused toward the dance floor.

Elara relaxed her hand, letting the blood flow back into her knuckles. Maybe a little familiarity would help, she thought. If the captain was the one suggesting it, it wasn’t like she was acting on her feelings without proper thought. And it may have the added benefit of letting them get to know each other in different settings, which could temper or eliminate the possible romantic intentions her heart was threatening her with. That sounded like as good a plan as any, and she had to admit, she was a little proud of herself for how she adapted to the situation.

Wrapping her hand around the glass, she picked it up and angled it toward her commanding officer, who glanced at her with a raised eyebrow. “A toast to your promotion. Congratulations, Eko.” As she said the name Eko smiled, then clinked her glass against Elara’s, though hers was still empty. Elara took another drink from her own and returned it to the table, feeling better than she expected to. The night was off to a good start.

—

Elara had finally finished her drink and had opted to switch to water for the remainder of the evening. She wasn’t against getting a bit more buzzed, but now was not the time for her critical thinking faculties to be impaired. Eko had also switched to water, though she wasn’t sure whether she’d even had a drink to begin with. Their Cathar squadmate had knocked back quite a few bottles, and had now moved over to the bar and was flirting with the bartender. The bartender’s shift had actually ended about twenty minutes ago, and Elara wasn’t sure whether Jorgen was trying his luck with the new bartender, or was drunk enough that he hadn’t noticed.

“I think he just likes the banter,” Eko mused, as if she could read Elara’s thoughts. “I don’t think he’s ever actually gone home with someone I’ve seen him flirt with.”

“Maybe he’s just terrible at flirting.”

They sat in silence for a few moments, both watching Jorgen gesticulate wildly, causing the bartender to laugh. Eko looked away, and Elara saw that she was gazing at the dance floor again, as she’d done several times that night. She was fairly certain it was only due to the fact that it was in her neutral line of sight, but something spurred her on to have a little fun with it. The music was an upbeat tune, something that had a good vibe for dancing.

“You’ve been eyeing the dance floor all night. Something you want to tell me?”

Eko’s crimson eyes widened, and she looked past Elara toward the lightly populated flat area at the center of the club, several of the individuals there flailing their limbs about in a hilariously uncoordinated attempt at dancing. Others were just bouncing to the beat, and there was even a Twi’lek who actually had some moves, tossing his headtails back and forth as he grooved to the beat.

“I, uh, no, there’s nothing … it’s just in my field of view, is all,” her captain stuttered out, swallowing audibly.

“Are you sure?” Elara teased. “I thought maybe you had a hidden talent that happened to be killer dance moves. Unlike that guy over there.” She subtly gestured to a Zabrak who was having trouble standing upright but was still giving it his all, his knees bumping into each other as his arms jerked back and forth like they were caught in a sliding door.

As Eko let out a loud laugh that she quickly covered with her hand, Elara felt a lightness inside her. It felt good to make her laugh, which was already unusual in that she rarely made anybody laugh. It really had been a long time since she’d had a true friend, she thought sadly. All the more reason to make the best of this opportunity, she mused resolutely.

“In Chiss culture, we’re not exactly encouraged to be so … unrestrained,” Eko said, clearly substituting “unrestrained” for a less flattering word.

“But you did learn to dance?” Elara pushed, though she wasn’t sure why she was suddenly so interested.

“Sure. A choreographed dance with a partner is basically a stepping stone to military strategic planning,” she replied, deadpan in her delivery. At Elara’s raised eyebrow, she chuckled. “Ok, maybe not exactly, but yes, there were several cultural dances we learned growing up.”

“Maybe I’ll get to see them some day,” Elara joked through the strange fluttering in her stomach.

“Probably not.” Eko turned to look at her, her eyes surprisingly earnest. “But maybe.

—

The streets were dark when they exited the club, though not any less busy than they were hours ago when they arrived. Jorgen had promised to be back to the ship by the morning, and Forex had notified them that he was getting a few technical upgrades and would also be out the rest of the night. Which left just Eko and Elara, strolling through the streets lit by a plethora of hanging lights and glowing signs.

After spending the first several minutes of their walk reminding herself that it was not a romantic situation, and that friends and coworkers walked home together late at night all of the time, Elara finally was able to relax. Or at least relax enough that she could think about talking without immediately saying something she might regret.

For a while though, they just continued in silence. Not an uncomfortable silence: quite the opposite, in fact. Elara didn’t feel the need to fill the silence, and would’ve been perfectly content if they hadn’t spoken another word until they reached the ship. She was just as pleased though when Eko’s calm voice tickled her ears.

“What’s your favorite planet that you’ve been on?”

Elara stutter-stepped, caught off guard. She had not been expecting such a … mundane query. She thought about it, and was surprised when she didn’t have an answer readily available. “I … don’t know,” she admitted with a little embarrassment. “I guess I’ve never really taken the time to explore the planets I’ve been to. I was always there for a job and the job always took priority.”

She could sense Eko looking at her in her peripherals. “Nowhere stands out?”

“Nope.”

“Huh.” They walked on, and then Eko spoke up again. “Every planet we visit, you have to take one day to experience something interesting on the planet.”

Elara cocked her head to the side to glance her way. “Is that so?”

“Yes. And it’s an order, Lieutenant. Assuming we don’t have a ridiculous timeline, which let’s be honest, we often do.”

She gave an exaggerated salute. “Yes ma’am. Operation Find a Favorite Planet is a go.” They both laughed as they turned the corner before the spaceport, where their ship was docked. As the docking bays came into view, Elara realized she didn’t know what their ship was named.

“What’s the name of our ship?”

Eko shrugged. “It doesn’t have a name.”

Elara stopped walking, letting her mouth drop open in mock horror. “Our ship doesn’t have a name? This is simply untenable.”

Having taken a few more steps before noticing she had halted, Eko turned toward her, crossing her arms. “Is that so?”

“Absolutely.” She gave a firm nod. “In order to have a fully armed and operational team, all the members must have a level of trust and respect for each other. Given that the ship is part of the team, we also need to trust and respect it, but we cannot do that without knowing its name.”

The smile that flickered on Eko’s face was a telltale sign she was holding back laughter. After seemingly getting it under control, she responded. “Well then, since you seem to be the master of the subject, what should we name it? I am guessing we can’t just call it BT-7 Thunderclap?”

Elara scoffed. “Of course not. That is the model, not the name. Let’s see.” She tapped her finger against her pursed lips. “There’s lots of naming conventions for ships. We could reference an event, or a location, or something like a mantra …” she trailed off as her mind cycled through her memory for the names of ships that she liked, and that she thought Eko might enjoy as well. Suddenly, her eyes lit up. “Ah, how about something a little more whimsical. What’s your favorite animal?” she demanded with such ferocity that Eko took a step back.

“Uh, my favorite animal?”

She nodded intently.

Eko hummed while she pondered the question. “I’ve always been partial to those spiky crystal fox things. I think they live on Crait?”

Surprisingly, Elara knew what animal she was referring to, for it had been in one of the books she’d had as a child. She had also taken a liking to the cute creature, though she was certain the illustration in her children’s book had been a little more generous with the cute qualities. “A vulptex!” she stated triumphantly. “That is good. Now we just need a descriptor for it, so it can fit ship naming conventions.”

Giving her an inquisitive look, Eko smirked. “You’re just making this up as you go, aren’t you?”

“No!” she replied defensively, before backing down. “Well, a little bit. I’m more just, adapting known ship names to figure out a common structure so that it sounds correct.”

Eko shrugged in acquiescence. “Would a color work?”

“Yes! A color would be excellent. Do you have a color that speaks to you?”

“I picked the animal, how about you pick the color. What color do you like?”

As she was probing her mind to find a color that meant something to her, she found her focus moving to Eko’s face. Her blue skin seemed to glow in the synthetic lights from the infrastructure around them, and suddenly her mouth was moving of its own accord. “Cerulean,” she said, because of course you couldn’t use a word as banal as “blue” for part of your ship name.

“Cerulean Vulptex,” Eko said, her face slipping into a look of approval. “I like it.”

“I like it, too,” Elara parroted, as she continued to stare at Eko’s face, feeling a sudden itch to know what it felt like, if it was as smooth as it looked or if it was rougher, the result of years of military service.

After what felt like an absurdly long amount of time but was probably only a second or two, Elara ripped her eyes away from her commanding officer and cleared her throat. “Yeah, I like it too,” she said again, and they started traversing the final stretch to the ship. They fell back into a companionable silence, which was both a blessing and a curse, because now Elara was stuck with her thoughts.

And her thoughts were getting more tangled by the day.