Tybalt had heard about the GAR ship which had crashed a few miles from town on the moon Nar Shaddaa. The smokey grey Zabrak hadn't thought much of it, until his belly grumbled again hungrily. It was then that he had decided to just take a peek around, maybe for something he could salvage. The middle aged male wasn't too thin, not like the slaves he had seen come in and out of port.

Tybalt pulled his battered jacket tighter over his shoulders as he continued on a little path to the crash sight. Tonight was exceptionally cold, but he tried to ignore it as he trudged on, worn out boots thudding softly against the ground. It took almost an hour before he finally reached the wreckage. Small pieces of scrap were still burning here and there, and Tybalt's hot golden eyes shifted around warily. It was dangerous what he was doing, and he knew it all too well. There was always the possibility of running into slavers, and if that happened, you usually signed your own death certificate. He needed the money though, so he wasn't being picky.

The ship was mostly destroyed, and it looked like he was getting little less than a few parts from it. He carefully stepped through a hole in the ship's side, scanning the dark area before continuing further. Sparks flew from ripped and damaged wires, casting slight shadows every now and then.

He ventured in further, en route to the cockpit. He paused when he got there and looked around, his critical gaze scanning over the various controls. A hopeful smile curved onto his lips when he stopped the hyper drive, and it seemed to be in one piece. He spent the next half an hour disabling parts and shoving them into his backpack, until it couldn't take much more. It was safe to say that he hit the jackpot. This bag full of parts could bring him in enough money to last several months. Content with what he had found, he manoeuvred his way back through the ship, placing his steps carefully.

That's when he heard it.

Tybalt froze perfectly still, only his golden gaze shifting around. There it was again! Soft, though, but it was there. He furrowed his tattood brows and looked around cautiously, stepping towards what looked to be a small holding facility. The noise had gone silent again, and Tybalt saw absolutely nothing. He shook his head. His mind must be playing tricks again. He was about to turn around when his senses suddenly caught a dainty soft scent and he heard the likes of a little mewl. His Zabrak instincts kicked in instantly, and he manoeuvred deeper into the little facility. It was when his eyes caught the likes of fabric in a little dismantled crib moving caught his eye that he stopped. The man moved closed and held his breath as he reached his hand out, tugging the white fabric back a little. His eyes widened in both wonder and surprise when he was met with a tiny bundle all curled up in the soft blanket. The infant had a head full of thin, soft dark locks and was dressed in what Tybalt thought a black, long sleeved shirt and a nappy. Other than that, the little boy was huddled into the warm white blanket.

The baby boy whimpered weakly and started crying again, the noise Tybalt had heard not too long ago. The Zab reached and carefully scooped the beyond tiny bundle into his big arms, brushing over his cheek in absolute wonder. The baby made a soft mewling sound and Tybalt smiled lovingly, starting to purr. He cuddled the child warmly in his jacket, against his chest. The little boy couldn't be older than three months.

Tybalt spotted paperwork clipped onto the crib, and took it, looking through the information. Turns out the little boy was indeed a baby clone. And he sure had the looks of one. He was beautiful. His identification read "Clone - 5555", and Tybalt raised a brow. "That's an awful lot of fives, don't you think, little one?" He whispered in a purr, looking down at the small sleeping child. "We just ought to call you Fives," he added in a gentle tone, stuffing the papers in his bag. He made sure the small bundle named Fives was secured in his arms and wrapped warmly to block away the cold.

It took him more than an hour to get back home this time, moving slower since he was carrying a sleeping little Fives with great caution. He didn't mind though, purring softly with a smile etched onto his face. He stepped into what he called home, though it was just a small little apartment room just underneath the surface, nicely hidden. He had taken the liberty to buy the boy some formula and a bottle on the way home, not having too much of a hustle getting it from the trader.

He laid Fives down on his makeshift bed of blankets and went to prepare a bottle for him. The baby boy squirmed a little, crying softly when he no longer felt Tybalt near him. The Zab quickly finished and hurried over, gently scooping the boy up into his arms again and rested back onto the blankets. He brought the bottle to Fives' mouth and the tiny boy hungrily started to suckle down the contents inside. Tybalt sighed softly and caringly brushed through the boy's dark hair. Tybalt also had black, short hair growing around his horns, but Fives' hair was much softer. The little boy finished off the bottle and started mewling softly, seeming to enjoy what Tybalt was doing. The Zabrak laughed softly and started to purr again.

A few moments later, soft, unfocused hazel eyes cracked open. Fives mewled more as his small eyes caught sight of the gray male. Tybalt's breath hitched slightly and his gaze filled with a deep love. He swore that he had never seen something more pure or beautiful in his life. The boy settled down in his arms, his tiny eyes drifting shut after a second and he fell asleep. Tybalt purred more than ever, pulling the blanket over the both of them and settled down himself.

"My little Fives," he whispered sweetly, before falling asleep with his son tightly huddled against him.