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thebluevipersden · 1 year

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Tales of the Flame and the Rain

Star Wars fanfiction / PART 02 / Words: 5123 // AO3 Pairing: Cad Bane X female OC Tags: Slow Burn, Creatures, Tension, Angst, Thriller(ish), Hurt/Comfort, Blood & Injury, Roughness, Action, Age Difference Summary: Yrsa and her dangerous acklay, Cog live peacefully in their shipwreck home, until a mysterious man in a hat suddenly bursts into their lives. In this episode, the bounty hunter begins to hunt down his prey.

Warning: This part contains some slightly nsfw drawings! Thanks to @deepbluespace4 for the beta reading! 🎵 Music for the vibe (an eclectic journey of melody) 🌧️ Storm ambience for the second half of the story ← Previous episode Next episode →

CHAPTER TWO Deadlock

Yrsa was very tired. It’s been the second day when she could barely get any sleep. This time, because of the proximity of Cog, she managed to fall into a sleeplike state, but that wasn’t relaxing at all. At least her evening was a tiny bit calmer. She wanted a little refreshment at last. Yrsa and Cog headed towards the lake. Cog was an excellent swimmer, because he was partially an amphibian and loved to stay in the water that was his strongest element. The animal gladly lingered underwater even for up to half a day. Yrsa checked the reactions of Cog. The girl trusted the instincts of her beast and he seemed relatively calm, so she thought she could afford a quick bath for herself without worry. With him by her side in the water, she was as safe as possible. Yrsa undressed and walked into the lake.

Yeeesh… Cold, cold, cold, cooold… - She shivered then subdued the feeling. The cool water somewhat enlivened her. Cog enthusiastically rushed forward into the lake. He liked it very much. Then he swam next to Yrsa and watched his master. She looked back to him and swam to his side. The girl gently touched the huge head of the creature and softly leaned her forehead to his. Cog growled slowly.

- Thank you, my friend... What would I do without you?- Said Yrsa to him.

They lingered in the water for a while, then Yrsa swam a little further. She heard Cog splashing then saw him going ashore and lying down there. The animal looked back to Yrsa. The girl continued to swim, then lay on the surface of the water and began to float. It was a nice, comforting feeling. Finally, a little peace. But this calmness lasted no longer than a split second.

She shot a glance at the landscape and suddenly noticed the familiar figure with the cowboy hat on a cliff in front of her. He stood in the backlight of the Sun. The stalker didn't even try to hide, just loitered there and looked down at her. The girl’s feelings were overflowing. She quickly jumped up and shouted to the vexing man:

- Enough of this! If you want something from me, come and tell me right to my face!! - Yrsa was so upset and annoyed. She panted and looked in the direction of the cliff. The mysterious man with the hat tilted his head, stayed there a bit, then disappeared from her sight. Again.

- Hh... Um… - She sighed deeply. Yrsa regretted her former outburst a little bit. The girl submerged into the lake. Only half of her head was visible in the water as she slowly peeked around. At this point, she really didn't know what to expect from this stalker. She didn't understand why he fooled around with her, and... Wait a minute… Where is Cog? He was there by the lake shore. Yrsa lost sight of him. She decided to swim ashore and wrapped the towel that she left there earlier around her naked body. She wanted to find Cog immediately. Then something happened that she didn't expect

She heard footsteps from afar and the rattle of nearby bushes. Someone lurked behind, then sneaked closer to her. She spun around her axis and found herself face to face with her voyeur.

- Well, as ya' requested, youn' lady… - The stranger tipped his hat with delicate movements.

Actually Yrsa was now seeing his shady figure clearly for the first time. But the feeling of the dark shadow around him was still there. The strange man was tall and cobalt blue skinned. She had never seen an individual of a similar race of his. He was almost like a reptile, walking on two legs and had minacious deep red eyes. He wore a long brown leather coat, a conspicuous wide flanged hat and some kind of breathing device around his neck.

Bane walked with heavy footsteps towards Yrsa. She couldn't observe him better, because he acted faster than light. The hunter jumped in front of the girl and pinned her to a nearby cliff in a split second. Yrsa tried to escape and shout for Cog, but Bane wouldn’t let her scream. For now… He plastered her mouth with his boney fingers. The girl looked at him in surprise mixed with fear. But she didn’t want to give up so easily. She wanted to fight back. Yrsa fiercely bit into the stranger’s hand.

- Ouch! - hissed Bane and narrowed his crimson eyes. - Sssavage lil’ wildlin'… - His lips curled in a chilling sneer.

Then squeezed her to the cliff even harder. Yrsa could barely breathe or move in the grip of this demonic blue man. He leaned closer to her, all the way to her ears and slowly swept the girl's hair away from there with a surprisingly gentle movement. Bane just breathed there for a few moments and remained motionless. Then he started to speak. He had the most grim and deeply vibrating rusty voice she had ever heard. The hunter almost whispered and was so close to her that she felt his cold breath all over her ear. Yrsa closed her eyes. She began to tremble.

- Heeey… Don' play with fire, because one day it’ll burn ya' so badly, lil’ misss…- then he smirked at her. Yrsa couldn’t speak a word. She didn't dare to look at him at all.

- Ooh… What’s it? Did the loth-cat take yer lil’ tongue? - said Bane really cynically and he smirked even wider than before. He flashed his sharp teeth threateningly.

- Hmmrh... If you apologize to me nicely, maybe I'll consider lettin' ya' go …- He said with a grin. The bounty hunter relaxed his grip on her mouth just a tiny bit.

- Wh... What? - Asked Yrsa. Her startled eyes met his. She didn't believe what he said even for a minute.

- Come oon... Sssing to me, birdie… - hissed Bane and measured her like a piece of raw meat.

Yrsa tried to avoid his soul-penetrating gaze and couldn’t say a word. The darkness emanating from him completely settled on her with its whole weight.

- Nh... No… - Said the girl in the quietest possible way.

- Tsk. Say... It.... NOW!! - He thundered.

Yrsa was so confused. A lot of weird feelings stirred in her at once. She felt herself weak and immensely vulnerable. But as soon as her thoughts cleared, she acted quickly. The girl began to say a sentence softly. During this time, Bane scanned her face with his cold gaze. He waited for some kind of reaction.

- ...No ...I ...I …Ngh. CoooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOGGG!! - She screamed her beast’s name as loud as she could.

- HEY!! You... - Bane covered her mouth with his hand as rough as he was capable.

- Sssssh… Sh-sh-ss-ssh… - He silenced her. - This was a rrreally bad idea, lil' lady...

- Mfh… - Yrsa frowned her eyebrows and looked at him intensely. But this time, she glanced right into his blood red glowing eyes and didn't look away.

Cog wandered around the forest. He felt a burning need to follow the sense of his prey. It was huge. It was enticing. Something lured him into this very area of the forest. Cog curiously stared at a buzzing electrical box and sniffed it. He didn’t recognize what kind of animal it was, but knew there was something important in that thing and he wanted to open it immediately.

- Must... Observe... It... - Thought the creature.

- Where... Is... My prey? Where... Is... It’s meat? - Cog scratched the buzzing box with his claws. He felt the body electricity given off by this strange entity.

- It... Is... An iron animal...? - He lurked around it and poked it a few more times.

- I… Must… Eat it. - He bit into the box. It tasted weird.

- Where… Is… The meat? I... Must... Kill it... - Cog continued to chew on the iron animal.

Suddenly a desperate scream of a girl broke the tranquility of the forest. It was Yrsa and she shouted Cog’s name from somewhere nearby. Cog awoke from his trance-like state. The voice pulled him back into reality.

- The... Girl... The... GIRL...

- Something... Wrong!

- Must...

- Protect...

- Her...

Cog screeched into the air and threw away the chewed box. The furious creature started to run fast towards the origin of the girl’s voice.

The bounty hunter was still pinning Yrsa tightly to the cliff.

- Well, let’s go then, lil' wildlin'… Time to go! - Said Bane.

He grabbed the girl and started to drag her with him. Yrsa gasped and tried her best to resist. No matter how she squirmed, she couldn’t get rid of the bounty hunter’s grip. In that very moment Cog jumped out of the bushes, infuriated. The beast stopped when noticed Yrsa and Bane and shot his raging gaze at them. So, that blue shadow was his enemy…. He fixed all three of his eyes on Bane and screeched loudly towards the duo. Cog wanted to destroy him.

- Oh, is another one joinin' the party? How amusin'… - Said Bane and smirked towards the enraged creature. Then with a firm and harsh motion he yanked Yrsa in front of him as a shield. Bane pulled the girl close to him and clasped her neck from behind with his arms. He fixed his gaze on the furious animal in front of them. Yrsa tried to move towards her beast and started to call him:

- Coghh… Ngggh…

Bane squeezed her body hard and the girl’s voice trailed off.

- No sudden move… - He hissed to her, meanwhile still watched the angry creature and began to back away slowly with the girl. Cog didn’t wait any longer. The animal just wanted to tear his master out of the intruder's arms and began to run towards them with a loud and sharp shriek. Bane was fast too, he picked up Yrsa on his shoulder and they took to the air with Bane’s jetpack on his legs.

- Hah! So long, creep! - He shouted malevolently and continued to fly in the direction of the steep cliff next to the lake, from where he had previously observed Yrsa and Cog. Yrsa reached her arms towards Cog and watched his receding shape.

- No... Coog! Cog!

- You’ll never see him again, lil’ one…- Said the bounty hunter. Meanwhile they reached the cliff and landed on it. Yrsa became angry and worrying at the thought that Bane wants to separate her from Cog. From her only friend. From her only family…. That thought drove her crazy and she tried to break free even harder. She fidgeted, squirmed, and tried to scratch and bite stubbornly.

- Sigh… Eaasy nooow... - Said the hunter.

Yrsa tried to bite him again, but Bane was much faster. He catched her chin with the reflexes of a rattlesnake and held her tightly. The bounty hunter looked deep and cold into her eyes. From that the girl froze for a moment.

- Wanna’ get a muzzle, darlin’? - He still held her face.

Yrsa didn't say anything, just growled at him and flashed her teeth. Her eyes were on fire.

- I won't leave my friend behind... - She said with a slightly weak but angry voice.

- Ha-hahh! I’ll be curious ‘bout that... - Bane wanted to continue what he was about to say, but he couldn’t.

From the edge of the cliff, out of the coverage of the trees, Cog suddenly appeared and rammed swiftly into them with his huge forehead. The creature swept them both. It happened so quickly they didn’t even have time to grab onto something, so Bane and Yrsa fell into the lake from the edge of the cliff. Cog didn’t wait a minute, immediately jumped after them.

Yrsa was underwater and sinking. She lost her sense of direction. Suddenly she didn't know where was up and down and descended deeper and deeper towards the bottom of the lake. When she suddenly regained her clarity she saw the two crazy opponents fighting in the water. They spun around each other like the alligators executing their prey. In this case, it wasn't sure at all who was whose prey.

Yrsa needed air so badly. She floated to the surface of the water and went ashore. She was shocked by the events and anxiously watched the surface of the lake. It had been a while, but none of them came out of the water. Then bubbles gathered on the surface of the lake and Bane burst out of the waves with his half-working foot jetpack and landed on the waterfront. He suffered some injuries, but stood proud and looked at the water in front of him, pointing his weapon in that direction.

- Come!! Catch me!! Frrreak!! - He breathed quickly. Bane noticed the girl not far from him on the shore.

- Oh, hello there… - He winked at her. Even in this chaotic situation there was some cheeky playfulness in him. Yrsa just watched what was happening with widened eyes. Cog came out of the water right away and ran at a crazy pace towards the hunter.

- Now you are at my playgroun' !! - Bane hissed at Cog and shot him continuously with his two blasters, but the creature had a hard shell on its back and the bullets bounced off it. Cog on the other hand tried to catch him, but the hunter was always faster, even with his injuries. It was a tough fight, like an endless dance between two brutally fast and skillful opponents. The rumbling water finally met with the burning fire. Yrsa couldn’t even intervene. It was pure madness.

- How disappointin', I thought an acklay is faster than this... - Bane constantly taunted his opponent. In response the teeth of the creature snapped at him repeatedly, but they never hit him. - Hold on, Cog! Hold on buddy! - Shouted Yrsa exalted to Cog. Bane shot a quick look at her and grunted bitterly.

- Rrgh… Playtime is over.… - Grumbled the hunter. He knew the animal’s belly was more vulnerable than the other parts of its body, as the flesh covering it wasn’t as tough as it was elsewhere. Bane knew he could shoot there and finally kill the beast.

He quickly slipped under the animal and pointed his weapons at the belly of the creature. He fired a few times, but then he suddenly got unpleasantly surprised. Barely visible, it looked exactly like the animal's own skin - A thin plate of armor protected Cog’s vulnerable parts. It was made by Yrsa.

- What the hell... - Said Bane in surprise. He didn’t expect that at all. The shield seemed as if it was an integral part of the creature. Cog didn't hesitate, taking advantage of his momentary dominance, struck down ruthlessly to the bounty hunter. He started to maul him.

Yrsa shuddered in horror. She was glad the beast was protecting her, but she didn't want to kill his opponent.

- Cog!!! STOP IT!!

Cog continued to chew on him, but for a fragment of a moment stopped and looked at Yrsa. The badly wounded Bane, in that stolen split second, lifted his arms and fired from his flame thrower attached to his arms. Cog backed away and screeched.

Bane quickly looked around and assessed his situation. Due to his injuries and damaged equipment he couldn’t get too far and he was out in the clearing by the lake. There were no tall trees within a close distance. Then the bounty hunter catched sight of something nearby and didn't hesitate any longer.

- The… Shipwreck… - Thought Bane. - The only logical step left was to hide there.

Gathering all his strength, he began to rush towards the Shiphome. He was almost there when he heard the clacks of Cog's claws behind him. The animal almost breathed into the nape of his neck. Bane turned back quickly and shot the creature in the eye with a well-aimed shot.

- Eat THIS!!

Cog recoiled and screamed in pain, followed by the cries of Yrsa. Meanwhile, the hunter quickly kicked in the spaceship door and slammed it behind him tightly. Well, this was a complete disaster for all of them.

The blue fire tornado struck again and left destruction after him.

Cog was insanely angry. He screamed in fury and flashed his sharp teeth. It was awful to watch as the animal raged. Yrsa rushed to him without a question and with fast movements jumped on Cog’s giant head and clung to it. The girl hugged his head as tightly and steady as she could.

- Sssh… My dear... - Cog was still terribly angry. Suddenly he jumped in the direction of their home with Yrsa on his head. He knew his enemy was there. He smelled that. Yrsa nearly fell off by the animal’s sudden movement. She quickly covered his two intact eyes with her arms.

- Easy, eeeasy, easy now boy... - Cog growled wrathfully but he started to slow down a bit. The creature tossed the girl on his head up and down with his nervous movements. Yrsa held on and continued to reassure him. She caressed the animal with definite tenderness. After a while Cog moved more and more slowly but he was still very upset. Yrsa smoothed her forehead to the animal's and still kept his two eyes closed with her arms.

- It’ll be alright… - She said quietly. Her soothing voice had a good effect on the creature. He got gradually calmer by the touch of the girl. Cog stepped forward a few more times without seeing anything and stopped but he was still loudly growling.

- Poor thing, your eye….- Yrsa looked sadly at the gaping hole in place of the animal's third, middle eye and kissed his head softly. The bounty hunter shot out one of Cog’s eyes. He was able to deliver such an accurate shot even in the heat of the fight.

- Hold on, buddy, I’ll get help! - She carefully climbed off the head of the somewhat calmed but still very upset animal. She wanted to bring bandages and some herbal medicine for Cog but knew that the bounty hunter was inside her home. Yrsa really needed that medicine so she gathered all of her courage and approached her occupied home.

- Come on, come oooon, comeoncomeon, do it…. For Cog. - Thought the girl. She slowly opened the door and entered it. Darkness hung around the small room.

- Please, don’t shoot! I just want to bring some medicine to my friend!

She received no reply and felt unusually cold air on her skin.

- I’ll come in… - Her words got cut off - Huh? - Yrsa gasped at what she saw.

Bane lay unconscious on the floor in the middle of a large pool of green blood. He was in a very bad shape. Cog almost tore off his left arm and also heavily wounded other parts of his body. Yrsa ran for the medicines, during this time she watched the figure lying on the ground constantly.

- Oh my… Is… Is he moving at all? - He seemed unnaturally still. Especially after the speed with which he had moved before. The girl didn't see if the wounded bounty hunter was breathing at all. She didn't know what to do, since Cog also needed her help. Yrsa headed to the door to go out to her injured animal but after a few steps she stopped.

- I can’t… I just can’t… - She sighed and looked back worried to her disarmed stalker.

She ran back to Bane and knelt beside him. Cog wasn't injured fatally after all and by all means, he was though as hell. But if she leaves this man here now, he'll surely bleed to death. Is he still alive at all? Yrsa didn't want anyone to die if she could help them. She couldn’t remain idle.

- Hold on, Cog! I’ll be there soon! I promise! - Yrsa looked at the injured bounty hunter...

- Please don't make me regret this... - She whispered, then she began to take care of the wounds of Bane. He was barely alive. Yrsa didn't understand why, but deep inside, somehow hoped that he would survive this.

🌧️🌩️🌧️ Storm clouds formed from the gray of the sky. It was beginning to rain. The droplets pattered rhythmically on the firm metallic surface of the shipwreck home. It's been a while since Yrsa helped the bounty hunter. She had a hard time laying him on the bed by the window. He was heavy but with the help of her lifting gadgets she could manage at last. The man was so tall that his lower legs were hanging from her bed. He was still alive, but badly injured. Especially his left arm. Yrsa had only a few herbal medicines at home and the bandages made from the fibers of leaves and other plants found in the forest. She hoped that this would be enough for saving his life.

Yrsa had already taken care of Cog, luckily he was only easily injured despite losing one of his eyes. The beast physically seemed to be fine, but he had a newly conceived hate against the intruder. He couldn't forget what Bane did. Cog wanted to tear him apart. The feeling spreaded in him like a deadly virus. He lay outside in the rain in front of their home. He was annoyed but motionless and had been watching the door from outside ever since the incident happened.

Yrsa was inside, next to the unconscious Bane. She sat pondering with her knees in front of her chest and observed the hunter. She gingerly pulled herself a little bit closer to him and measured Bane with the curiosity of a naturalist.

- Who are you? - Thought the girl. - What kind of species could he be? Some kind of reptile?

She leaned a little bit closer to his head and touched it very softly. It radiated cold.

- Hmh… What an interesting livid blue tone… His skin is at least as cool as Cog's.

The coldness… Yrsa suddenly remembered what had happened at the lake. She could almost feel the chill of his breath in her ear and started to shiver. To be honest, no one has ever been so close to her before. Yrsa suddenly didn't know how to feel and was embarrassed by it but somewhat she liked this new feeling. Actually she hadn’t met and talked to anyone but Cog since she crashlanded in this very place as a small child. She was completely cut off from everyone. Then he suddenly showed up and burst into their lives, out of the blue.

- What should I think about him? He hurt Cog and I really hate that fact, but….

At that very moment the hunter started to speak on his gravelly voice:

- Are ya' entertained, missy? - Bane didn't even open his eyes.

Yrsa nearly had a heart attack, then skittered back all the way to the wall of the shipwreck behind her. The girl’s back slammed against the metal wall.

- Heh… - he laughed at her with a slight mock in his voice.

Bane sat up a bit on the bed with slow and careful movements. He could barely move from his injuries. They silently stared at each other for a while.

- That little troublemaker… She treated me? Just why? - Thought the hunter and continued to look at her suspiciously. When he collapsed on the floor he thought he would never get up. He wanted to know why she hadn't let him die, but he didn’t ask anything. Bane was just waiting to see what would happen next. But Yrsa didn't move either, just sat there speechlessly and observed him.

The angry growling of Cog broke the silence from outside. The creature felt the presence of his nemesis. Bane grunted and looked sullenly at the direction of the rain soaked creature. Yrsa began to worry so she started to speak:

- He... He is just upset about what happened.

- Upset? Hah! That frantic meatbug of yours almost ripped off my arm…- Grumbled Bane.

- He just tried to defend us and… He is annoyed about his missing eye...

- Oh no! It has two more perfectly good eyes left. For now... - Bane's sneer gave way to a grin.

Yrsa shot him a savage glance. She started to say something but he interrupted her.

- I would be careful of what I'm goin' to say if I were ya'...

Yrsa took a deep breath and calmed down.

- He is just an animal driven by his instincts. Please, don’t hurt him...

- Usually I don' bargain with my prey, ya’ know, lil’ miss… - Bane locked his gaze on the embarrassed Yrsa. - Anyway, without my blasters, I would have a hard time with that kill, rrright? Can I have 'em back? - He asked, but it sounded like a threat.

So he noticed it. Of course he did. The girl hid them well while Bane was unconscious.

- Umm… Over time, maybe… - She replied slightly unsure but perkily.

- Ain’t ya' mischievous? - Bane tried to get up fast to threaten the girl, but his attempt failed. There was a sudden pain in his body and he slumped back on the bed, exhausted.

- Aaarh… - He grunted in pain. The girl was frightened to see this and started towards him.

- Don' move! - He growled at her.

- I… Your wound. - She pointed to Bane’s belly.

He looked down at it. The wound was ruptured and started to bleed. Green spots appeared on the bed. Bane felt very dizzy. The world began to revolve around him but he tried to pretend there was no problem at all. He didn't want to show any sign of weakness. That would be pathetic, he thought.

Despite the threat, the girl moved towards him. Bane didn't take his red eyes off her.

She warily sat down next to him and tried to touch the belly of the hunter. Bane caught her wrist with an indefinite but quick motion.

- Don’ try… Anythin' silly… Birdie… Ugh… - He said in a voice struggling with malaise.

Yrsa didn’t hesitate. She reached for his wound and started to re-bandaging it. The girl didn’t even look up at Bane’s face. She was somewhat embarrassed. Embarrassed? That term wasn't expressive enough. At that moment her face technically radiated more heat than the Sun itself. But she tried to focus on the healing process.

Bane, on the other hand, was suspicious. Very suspicious. He watched every movement of the girl. But in the end, he let her help him. Actually, the gentle touch of hers wasn’t so bad at all… It wasn't exactly the thing Bane was used to in his dangerously cruel life. He just growled and observed the process speechlessly.

Silence settled into the room again. Only the sounds of the strengthening rainfall could be heard. The healing process took a while, then the blue stalker fell asleep from the significant blood loss and exhaustment. Yrsa ruminated about him and the still growling Cog.

I think I’m stuck between two reckless, wild animals…

Bane had a terrible nightmare.

The whole world was falling apart. Everything blazed around him and was engulfed in devastating fire. The bounty hunter strode on glowing embers and ashes, his feet stirred them. The cinder crackled under his footsteps.

And he loved it.

- That's it, nnngh... - He closed his eyes and hissed, satisfied - ...More ...Moooore! - He shouted, electrified.

- You're DONE! You'll not run away from me!- He shouted. The flames flared even higher around him, answering his voice. Bane's blue face was painted slightly purple by the color of the blood-red fire. He grinned and walked out of the billowing black smoke and went after his prey.

- Heeere, kitty, kitty... Where are yaaaa'? - He said in his raspy, humming voice.

The dark outline of a gigantic creature slowly emerged from the smoke in front of him. Its night black shape was formed by the ashes and was so huge like a leviathan. It glowed subtly from the lava flowing in its body.

- Leave my prey alone! - Bane shouted, then shot at the lava beast with his two blasters. The creature immediately threw itself at him, its shape elongated like a shadow or a long dark wave. It wanted to eat him. Bane easily dodged its jaw a few times.

- Hah! Is dat all ya' know? AMATEUR! - He said smugly.

Then the ground beneath him turned into a huge mouth of the creature and it swallowed him.

Bane was angry. Really angry. And just fell and fell ahead. Suddenly he hit the ground and jumped up.

- Where are ya'? Coward!! SHOW YOURSELF!!

Countless arms grabbed him from below. He groaned in surprise.

- Geeet off! - hissed Bane

- Cooome... Join uuus.... Joiiiin uuuus.... Jooooin… - The owners of the many hands whispered and laughed. They formed a huge mass of various faces and arms and other bodyparts.They roared beneath him like an ocean of blood and pain. Bane tried to get out of their grip, but the more he struggled the deeper he sank. He recognized in them the faces of his former bounties. He tried to shake them off his body and kicked and bit relentlessly wherever he could reach them. He sank further into this abomination, it was like a swamp of horror.

- Cooome, cooooome! Heeeeehhehehe. Joooin us! Jooooin! - They whispered and laughed at him continuously.

- RRrggh… SHUT UP!! - He shouted, full-throated. Bane felt powerless and that was worse than anything.

Within a short time, only his left hand remained visible from the mass then it swallowed him completely. He appeared on the other side of the fleshy ocean. There was nothing else than blackness. Full, lightless pitch black. He heard growls and laughter echoing around, but saw nothing of them. He tried to get his gun. But… His left arm was nowhere to be found. He looked at the empty space instead of the limb.

-....What? - Said Bane quietly, surprised. Then he felt mind shattering pain in the place of the missing body part.

-Aaaaargg!!

Bane woke up immediately.

The bounty hunter was slightly shocked and panted heavily. He quickly raised his left hand to see it. It was still there...

- Huh… Bane was relieved and sighed really deeply. He buried his forehead into his right hand and slowly calmed himself down with some deep breaths. He was getting used to these dreams. It was a part of his everyday life after all and he learned to repress them within himself. Bane looked at his injured hand:

- I still need ya, ol' frien', heh... - He smiled slightly then hissed in pain. The limb hurt a lot.

He leaned back on the bed and glanced out the window of the shipwreck. Outside he saw Yrsa with Cog. The girl gently smeared some kind of medicine on the animal's forehead, then stroked it. With those soft and smooth lil’ hands of hers…. Hmmmh… Bane brooded over it a little bit.

Meanwhile, Cog stared at the direction of the window where the hunter lay. Bane flashed his eyes. Their cold gazes locked on each other.

- Yooou… Let’s call it a draw… But ya' better be afraid of the rematch... - Hissed Bane with confidence in his voice.

There is the water. It can crash you at ease with its harsh weight but it can also gently caress you with its silky waves.

To be continued... Next episode ➔ ← Previous episode

Footnotes: -Thank you so much for the reading! ♥ - My drawing of the hands was originally made for this story. :) - You can find some awesome divider for your writings here. - Here are some extra pictures, early concept drawings and sketches for this tale:

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sinisterexaggerator · 1 month

Text

Stars Above! | Cad Bane

Chapter 15

Explicit: Semi-slow burn, gratuitous smut /pwp, canon-typical violence, mildly dubious consent, angst, Tatooine Slave Culture.

This chapter: No warnings but for a disgruntled Duros.

Word count: 2.7k+

Notes: This is kind of a short chapter, but it feels right to set it apart on its own from what comes next. In fact, writing shorter chapters may make it so that I update more often, as it's easier to manage, and I still have a LOT of story to tell. <3

[ Ao3 ] - [ Masterpost ]

《 Previous chapter ||

Zulara tried her best to not let fear overtake her, for her spiraling thoughts to get the best of her, even as she sat there all alone. Not truly, but it felt as if she had been abandoned, Todo having powered down with Bane still sleeping soundly in the bacta.

Everything was happening much too quickly, though it had been hours since she’d come here; her head was spinning. She hadn’t eaten, having let her meal fall to the ground at Cad Bane’s entrance to her tiny home back on Slave Quarter’s Row the night before.

Zulara realized she didn’t even know the time, not having a chrono of her own. She supposed it did not matter, although Kayson might come looking for her. She wondered if Hondo was able to curb his anger, or to make up some excuse for her, but in her heart she knew nothing would deter her master once he had a mind to do something—find her secret hiding spot.

It was only secret because she was sure he did not know where Bane was docked, or even what his ship looked like. It was the only thing that gave her hope as she gazed longingly at the Duros, wishing he’d wake up.

She regretted leaving Todo just standing there, his form bent forward in a supine slope, but she had been too concerned, too riddled with worry for the hunter, not to go directly back to his side.

She had lost track of how long she had been there, seated on the floor with her legs folded beneath her; her fingers and forehead flat against the glass, Zulara engrossed by Cad Bane’s every breath—she could not help it.

She had almost panicked, having thought to call the youth named Boba Fett, but after the story she had heard, she steeled herself, refusing to bring him back aboard the ship if she could manage it.

Now, it was not Bane who settled into dreams, but the girl beside him. She dreamt of silly things. Things that were nary possible in this life, things that might have made her smile, but she was not so dotty as to put any stock into them.

Imagine her, flying amongst the stars, free from Kayson and from his business, only having to answer to herself. But maybe Bane would be there, maybe he would take care of her, and she would him. Maybe she could join him in his quest across the galaxy, providing him with some relief once he had finished a hard day’s work—how asinine she was to think that. It would never happen.

In reality, space was dark, cold, and unforgiving, she often floundered when she was made to practice piloting. Never before had Zulara felt so claustrophobic, not until she had experienced breaking atmo on Kayson’s orders the first time she left Lothal, no matter that the stars were beautiful.

When she was positive that nothing could go wrong; when she was absolutely sure that Bane was resting comfortably, the girl would climb unsteadily onto her tingling legs and her own two feet—they had nearly been asleep—finally ambling down the corridor to where the little droid resided.

Zulara did her best to move him to his rightful place: the recharge station. No arguments were given, no sassy backtalk had to be endured, yet she found she missed him. The silence of the ship was more than deafening, besides the warbled sound the pod made as it recycled and replenished bacta, as was its purpose, just like he had one—she presumed something, though she had no proof: It was possible in deep space Bane felt too alone, therefore Todo kept his mind sharp, kept him on his game, in addition to keeping the Duros company.

What friends did he have otherwise? Did he have partners that stood by his side? From what Pampy had said to her, he seemed to work all by his lonesome, with a reputation that preceded him.

Perhaps he liked it that way; perhaps she was intruding, yet he had seemed intrigued by her. She worried every second of every minute of every hour what Bane might do should he find her here once he awoke; she prayed to the Goddess of the Twi’lek people that he might find solace with her and not try to kick her out, or worse.

She felt the click, heard the sound that denoted Todo was plugged in. It echoed loudly in the quiet, bouncing from wall to wall. She glanced about her. There were so many things for her eyes to see and study.

There was a lengthy worktable. It was littered with motors, servos, gears, and wires of all sizes. Some parts looked salvaged, while others might be newly purchased, not to mention microchips of unknown origin and lenses, sensors, other various tools and instruments.

She saw a pair of RW-80 welding goggles, along with a protective visor. There were advanced repair kits of all kinds, including those for blasters. Most curious of all was what she thought were trinkets, things that he might collect. There were different kinds of helmets, and what appeared to be weapons of some sort that were unfamiliar. Cabinets lined the walls; she wondered what they might hold. She dare not snoop too much for fear of repercussion.

Still, that would not stop her. She gathered all the bits and pieces of Bane’s wrist gauntlet from off the ground, double-checking to make sure the hunter was still dozing.

Once seated, Zulara would pick up a nearby broken-screw remover, also known as an extractor. This one had a spiral flute structure, which she used to carefully unwind one that was being difficult. Her hands were delicate, though exacting. They had to be for one thing, yet without a measured touch it was possible to add too much torque to the brittle metal, thus making your job that much harder for you.

She removed its outer shell; it was cracked and badly damaged. There was extra paneling meant for droids nearby that could be welded and reshaped, but first thing’s first—she would need to replace the ruined circuits and find a pair of hypersheers for precision cutting and resizing.

---

Lavender eyelids batted open; Zulara found herself in slight repose, her own palm cupping her soft cheek as she had tried to keep her focus. It was at that moment she remembered—she had been cooking rycrit stew! With no sense of time inside Bane’s ship, she hoped it had not become inedible.

She spared a glance, Todo had still not activated. She could not have been asleep for too long, as it only took droids an hour to recharge, or so she’d heard—much less time than her.

Zulara suddenly felt like she could sleep forever, or at least for several hours, but she would not let herself succumb to such a notion. At least not until poor Todo could take over, then maybe she might get some rest before finishing the final touches on Bane’s vambrace.

It had been complicated, finding what wires led to what. She had a scare or two, and nearly burnt her fingers. It was fascinating just how it all operated—she wondered if Bane had built it all himself.

The girl was tempted to check on Bane again, but she did not want to accidentally cause a mess in his little galley, sparsely stocked though nearly spotless, and housed somewhere near the ion engines or another source of power; there was a low humming sound that seemed to burr the whole time she was in there.

Her feet found the rungs to the ladder she would use to climb down into the belly of his ship. His living area, the medbay, his workspace, and the cockpit—they all resided at the top, though separated by double-doors and one almost star-shaped hallway. It led off into four other separate, shallow paths—dead-ending at different doorways, whereas the kitchen and dining area, what looked like holding cells, and ample storage space were down below—so was the boarding ramp and holoterminal with access to the HoloNet.

She was sure that medbay used to be someone else’s living sleeping place, the way furniture was covered and piled up in the corner as if those items had been an afterthought. There was a spare refresher there, besides the one she was sure existed in Bane’s bedroom.

In addition to all the other nooks and crannies, there was the lift they’d use to carry him. It was industrial, flat, and open on all sides, like the ship’s sole was simply rising. It had been designed to act as both roof and floor between two levels; if you were on the lower deck, you had to wait for it to join you.

Zulara imagined it was useful for heavy items, like the pod Bane was currently occupying. She set her thoughts aside, focusing now on the smell that was emanating from down the hall—it was good, thank goodness, and did not smell like anything but vegetables and rycrit stew, like it was supposed to.

The girl would take a breath as she ran her fingers along the counter—it was made from stainless durasteel. She gathered the lid from off her home-cooked meal, inhaling deeply of the aroma that had been building up within. She ladled a bit of broth in the convex shape of the spoon she’d used to cook, then took a taste to make sure it was perfect.

---

Two wide, yellow eyes—like sparkling jaspers—whirred and vibrated with a light buzzing sound. Servos and joints were manipulated, little arms stretched out for a brief inspection, Todo 360 making sure that his intermotors were all functional and accounted for.

He shook his head, as if clearing unwanted thoughts or a fog that lingered, the faithful droid not quite able to remember what had happened to him. He blinked, his metal body tensing—Mister Bane—he was still inside the tank!

Todo would swivel his large cranium to the left and right; that girl Zulara was nowhere to be found. He wondered if she had gone. Had he made it to his recharge station? Perhaps she had it in her heart to help him, as the last thing he could recall was himself stalling, and only a few meters away from his destination—he was sure he had heard her call his name—if his memory still served him, she had sounded beside herself.

The service-droid stepped away from the mechanism holding him upright—he was now fully operational and at full power. He actuated his rocket thrusters and propelled himself into the center of the hall; he took to its right side, branching off, then opened up the steel-plated door to peek inside.

“Mister Bane!” the droid cried happily.

Todo realized he had nearly scared the Duros, his sharp eyes widening in breadth. He had halted with one leg in and one leg out, leaving his imprisonment, whether he should or shouldn’t. Todo knew Bane detested bacta—its texture, temperature, and consistency were all things that displeased him. He had argued with him more than once, the droid sometimes wondering just what he would do without him should he not be there to convince him otherwise.

“Your health is not a game!” is what the droid had told him, sounding as if he truly cared, though he was composed of nothing more than ones and zeros. In reality, Bane was thankful for him; he was like the nagging mother he never had, sure that without that droid, he would already be dead.

Still, that did not mean he was ready to entertain his fraught concern. His tone was lacquered with it, and the hunter would not have it.

“Bane! You are awake! I was—”

The Duros shot his droid companion with a look that dared him to keep yapping, Todo at once halting his chipper dialogue. What Bane was truly feeling was easy to decipher, as it was always written on his face, and rarely pleasant.

“Sir, I can tell your mood is poor, however there is—”

“Quiet!” was the only thing his master demanded of him, Bane’s voice gruff and raspy as he was thirsty on top of feeling completely useless. It felt as if he had been hit with an errant hovercar, or an entire starship, his body aching in places he did not know could ache.

Todo made a sound equivalent to indignation, yet he held his tongue, even though he did not have one. Bane’s other foot joined its partner on the ground, the Duros idling, lingering, just standing there for what felt like minutes, trying to regain his equilibrium.

Once capable of movement, Bane would begin his lethargic trudge toward his refresher in his private quarters, thinking the only thing he cared about was a warm, inviting shower; the feeling of the sticky bacta on his microscales was anathema and suffocating.

The hunter would hardly notice the wet, viscid trail he left behind in his ship’s short corridor, or that the droid had followed him, desperate to talk to him about something he imagined would be unimportant. His head ached, and his mind was numb, no thoughts present except those about the pain he was experiencing. He would take something—drink something—deadening those things he felt both from without and from within, not knowing that the girl being aboard his ship was anything but another dream.

---

“Oh, what am I going to do with him? He never listens! And now I suppose I am going to have to be the one to clean up this mess. I am a techno-service droid, not a maid-droid! Not even a thank you for—”

Todo paused in his lonely rant, tilting his head off to one side. His focus remained trained on the little sound he thought he heard—the clank of boots, or footsteps on the nearby ladder’s metal rungs. It was positioned just left of the cockpit’s doors, Todo surprised when he saw a head emerge, covered in dark locks.

“Zulara!” he called to her, coming forward as she pulled herself up, and out, “I thought you had wisely decided to go home,” he started in. “You will be happy to know that Mister Bane is alive and well, and is currently taking a much-needed shower.”

Zulara’s eyes widened with every word; she tiptoed forward, deciding to check on things herself as Todo kept the conversation going, though she nearly slipped in a residue that happened to be foot-shaped. “I am not sure that I can explain your presence here, therefore it may be in your best interest to leave—now—before either one of us gets into serious trouble.”

It was not that she didn’t trust poor Todo, but she had to see with her own two dichromatic eyes; she peered toward the bacta pod. It was open, and Bane was not inside.

The girl would turn, gazing at the floor and at the tacky substance that had left a path to the door across from her; it was obvious that Bane had made his way just as the droid had said. She began to follow it, Todo placing his hands upon his hips as his spheroid eyes broadened and expanded.

“—And just where do you think you are going?” he asked, perplexed.

“To check on Bane,” the girl would offer as a whisper, her footsteps timid; she moved closer to what was sure to be his bedroom. Her heart was pounding, and her internal temperature was rising, all from simply knowing he was somewhere, awake, on the other side.

“That is the worst idea I have ever heard! Do not be foolish!” Zulara would ignore Todo and his warnings, only pausing to hearten her small amount of courage. She could feel him tug her, his little hands having found the backside of her pants, “he will surely kill you!”

“I’ll be all right,” Zulara stated, shooing him away. Like a moth to a flame, she bade herself to go inside.

Todo would balk and scoff, pace back and forth, and wring his hands, but to no avail; none of this would help him. He tried again, “I do not know who you think you are, or what you are doing, but rest assured Bane will—”

The door closed in his face.

“Organics!” Todo would lament, exasperated.

#Cad Bane #Cad Bane x OC #Cad Bane x Original Character #Fanfiction #Star Wars #Original female characters #Twi'lek species #clone wars #bad batch #book of boba fett #Stars Above #Todo 360 #Bounty Hunters #Star Wars smut #multichapter fic #my writing

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hunnythebee · 1 year

Text

Stow Away

Chapter 11: Finally Free

Jo finally wakes up after a week long period of sedation. The bacta has healed her almost completely of her wounds and she is able to finally take in everything. Friends, new and old, the rekindling of an old flame, and a surprising new development guarantee that even though Jo has her freedom, that her adventure is not over yet.

3.3k words - third person - female original character

Chapter 10 | Chapter 12 | Masterlist

Tags & Warnings; Din Djarin x oc, Din Djarin x ofc, fluff, angst, this chapter is pure plot, mentions of trauma and death, Boba Fett, Fennec Shand, Grogu, Pelli Moto, Jawas can find anything, Boba's Palace

The days that followed were a blur. Jo remained mostly sedated, waking for brief periods of time to eat or bathe. It wasn’t until about a week later did she feel well enough to stay conscious. Din had left the room to go fix her breakfast, and while he was gone she had woken up feeling almost completely healed. She got up out of the bed, feeling incredibly stiff from lying down for so long, and stretched a little as she walked to a set of double doors that lead out to a balcony. The twin suns were just peeking over the horizon and the heat had yet to overtake the cool night air. Jo leaned on the banister and breathed deeply. She was finally free. Bane believed she was dead and Din had somehow found her again. She didn’t care how. For now, she was just happy he was in her life again. A breeze blew through her hair and she never thought she would be so happy to smell the sands of Tatooine again.

Behind her was a crashing sound and it startled her from her peaceful thoughts. Jo whipped around quickly to discover the source of the noise. Standing in the doorway was what she imagined to be a very bewildered looking Din Djarin who had been carrying a tray of assorted fruits and breads. Had, being the operative word, as they were now scattered on the stone floor of the room. She smiled at him, slightly amused at how obvious his emotion was at this moment. A stark contrast to the man she had been forced to leave behind years ago. He practically sprinted across the room to her and wrapped his arms around her tightly. His beskar plates dug into her skin, but she didn’t care right now. He was holding her, that was all that mattered.

“I thought I had lost you forever… I thought you were dead. Then you weren’t and there was hope but you were so badly injured and I–” he was rambling. She grabbed his helmet and shushed him gently as she tipped their foreheads together, remembering the sentiment behind such action. He sighed heavily and took her face in his own hands as they pulled apart.

“I did try. I know he said not to… but I tried to find you. But it was as if you never existed. A ghost in the galaxy. But now you’re here… you’re real.” His voice was so full of emotion. It was admittedly a little jarring, but she was happy to hear him so honest.

“I’m real. I’m real and I’m free. He thinks I’m dead. He thinks he killed me in the explosion and now he will never come looking for me again. Din… I’m free.” Jo was beaming at him. His shoulders stiffened. There was something she didn’t know, something he needed to tell her. “What is it?” She asked, her joy fading into worry.

“Come with me,” he beckoned and she followed him inside, her hand in his. They sat at the edge of the bed she had been asleep in for so long. He took a long pause, trying to find the words to tell her.

“Jo… you are free. And you’re right, he is never going to hurt you ever again. But not for the reasons you think…” He sounded so hesitant. Her heart was hammering in her chest.

“He’s dead.” Din finally proclaimed.

“What?” She felt shock come over her. “That’s… no. That’s impossible.”

“He is. Cad Bane is dead. Boba Fett and I made sure of that. You’re free, permanently.” His words echoed in her mind.

Cad Bane is dead. Cad Bane is dead. Cad. Bane. Is. Dead.

She choked on a sob. “He’s dead…” she whispered in disbelief.

“Yes. He is. He can’t hurt you anymore.” Din took her hand in his.

“I–I can’t…” she was still processing.

“Jomira, you’re safe. I will never let anything happen to you ever again.” He promised as his thumb smoothed over her knuckles and her breathing began to still, her mind quieting.

“Jo…” He spoke softly, hesitantly, but whatever he was going to say was interrupted by a knock at the door. Din stood to answer the door. It was the woman from before. She stood in the doorway speaking with Din for a moment and then looked past him to Jo. The words she was saying were too quiet to make out, but whatever it was, Din was nodding in agreement. She left and he closed the door.

“Who was that?” Jo decided to ask. “Is she who owns all of this?” She gestured to the grand room.

“No, that’s Fennec. She’s the right hand man to Boba Fett.” He explained, as if she was supposed to know who that was.

“Boba…Fett?” She tilted her head questioningly.

He stared at her for a long moment, processing all the things that had happened since they were last together. Finally he broke the silence, “Two years is a long time… A lot has happened since we were last together.”

Her stomach dropped. Jo was finally realizing that it had been two years. She didn’t know what he had been doing this whole time and her mind caught up to reality. What was he doing on Tatooine? How had he found her? Why did he know the man Bane had shot? Then all thoughts came to a head on one question.

“Where’s Grogu?” She asked, terrified something had happened to the sweet green gremlin. “Please tell me nothing’s happened to him… please say he’s okay.”

Din quickly moved to her, wrapping his arms around her to calm her. “Shhh he’s okay, he’s with Peli right now. Things have happened but he is okay now.”

“What do you mean things have happened?” She asked, an underlying tone of panic still lingering in her voice.

“Like I said…" Din replied, "Two years is a long time.”

Two years was a long time apparently. Din spent the next two hours recounting everything that had happened since they had been apart. Jo listened intently, nodding along and asking a question here and there, but mostly just listening. He had been through hell and back. Finally, he explained why he had been on Tatooine in the first place and how he had found her. She shook her head in astonishment.

“I missed so much…” sadness brimmed her eyes.

He grabbed her hands firmly, “But you’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

“Where do we even go from here Din?” She asked, sounding a little broken.

“Boba says we are welcome to stay as long as we like,” he began, “but knowing how you feel about Tatooine, I assume you won’t want to stay long.”

She smiled softly at the consideration of the man with her, “That’s very kind of the Daimyo, but you’re right. I really don’t want to stay a moment longer than I need to.”

Din nodded in understanding, “I told him that may be the case. I already have Peli finding us a ship.”

“Right…” her heart sank a little, realizing she would never step foot on the Razor Crest again. “Any news on that?” Asked Jo.

“I was going to go check on that while you ate breakfast,” he explained, glancing over to where the tray had fallen.

Jo hadn’t realized how long they had been talking or how late it was in the day already. She finally registered that her stomach was rumbling aggressively.

“Boba has a spread downstairs. If you want, I could go find you some more food?” Din offered.

“Actually,” Jo smiled, “I think I’d like to go make myself a plate. Can you show me where?”

Din sat silently, staring at her while trying to discern if she was really well enough to be walking around. Jo caught on to what he was thinking and stopped him.

“I feel fine, Din. Honestly, I think moving around might do me some good.” Jo stood up from the bed before he even had a chance to protest. “See?”

A defeated sigh came through his modulator, followed by him standing with her. They walked together to the palace feast hall. The halls were carved out tunnels of sandstone lit with small flickering lanterns. It was a rather large palace, which made Jo wonder why she had never seen it before. She was planning to ask how far they were from the Mos Eisley Spaceport, but all thoughts of her question fled her mind when she witnessed the elegant spread that was inside the feast hall.

A long stone table filled from end to end with platters over-flowing with food sat in front of her. She noted a rather delicious looking roasted nuna before finally meeting a pair of familiar golden eyes. Her heart nearly stopped and tears brimmed her eyes. She knew there was no possible way it was him. He was dead. But this man was obviously a clone, and the similarity was uncanny despite lacking hair and a beard. The man was bald and wore black garb with Mandalorian armor over it. His helmet was placed on the table beside him. He raised a hand gesturing the pair over to sit with him. Jo snapped out of her shock and she and Din took seats opposite each other as the mysterious man spoke.

“We are relieved to see you doing so well, Jomira. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you properly. I am Boba Fett, Daimyo of Mos Espa. You are welcome to call me Boba.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet my host face to face. And please, call me Jo," she smiled politely.

"Please. Help yourself to whatever you would like. I'm sure you're hungry," he smiled and she felt another twinge in her heart.

"Th-thank you," Jo swallowed the lump forming in her throat and directed her attention to filling her plate. All the while she could feel Din's eyes on her, taking note of the bittersweet sadness brimming her eyes. Jo stared into his visor with a pleading look and shook her head, as if to silently ask him to not pry. He gave her a small nod to agree, but she knew this wouldn't be the end of it.

Boba spoke up, snapping them both out of the wordless conversation, "So… Jo, I take it you've met one of my clone brothers."

Her head whipped towards him with such speed that she almost gave herself whiplash. "How did you-"

"When you have copies of yourself scattered throughout the galaxy, you learn to recognize who has seen your face before," he patted the helmet that sat on the table beside him, "One of the reasons I am thankful for this heirloom."

"I- I did know a clone… yes. He was a good man. Kind. Loving… but he's gone now." She took a deep breath to steady herself.

"I am sorry for your loss," Boba said, placing a warm hand on her shoulder. The action meant more to her than he could ever know. She gave him a small smile.

"I had no idea that you knew a clone," Din said quietly. Trying to piece together why that would make her so sad.

"There's a lot you don't know…" Jo muttered under her breath.

"What did you say?" Din asked

She looked up and shook her head, "Sorry, I said 'It was a long time ago.'" He knew that wasn't what she had said, but he decided not to press the issue further right now.

The rest of the meal was filled with small talk between Jo and Boba, with Din chiming in on occasion. As Jo was finishing her food, Fennec appeared looking a little disgruntled.

“Mando.” She stated, her voice matching her look of annoyance perfectly. “A woman is here to see you, she says you were expecting her.”

Jo’s head whipped around in excitement, “Is her name Peli?”

A look of confusion and amusement overtook Fennec’s features. “How did you know?”

Jo looked back at Din, a sense of joy bubbling up inside her. If Peli was here, then that meant so was Grogu. Before anyone else could say another word, Jo launched out of her seat at the table. She ran quickly through the palace to the hangar that she had passed through on the way to the feast hall earlier. Jo slid to a stop once she and Peli locked eyes. Peli didn’t look any different than she had years ago, except for the missing tooth. That was new. She was waving from the gangplank of a kom'rk class fighter with Grogu balanced on her hip. Jo’s eyes welled with tears as she began to close the distance. Peli hadn't registered who it was she was waving to yet, but as she got closer she broke into a light jog. Peli placed Grogu down on the ground, and he proceeded to leap into Jo’s arms. She caught him and held him tight to her chest. Jo had imagined this moment a thousand times, but nothing could compare to the real thing.

“I have missed you so much little guy… I never stopped thinking about you,” She whispered softly, cradling him in her arms. Grogu babbled happily, as if he was trying to speak to Jo, which she found utterly amusing. Peli finally reached Jo and pulled her into a bone crushing hug.

"What are you doing here, you mudscuffer?" Peli shouted in surprise.

"It's a really long story," laughed Jo, bouncing Grogu on her hip.

"One that includes Mando?" Peli pulled back and tilted her head at Jo.

"Hey, I didn't judge you when you came home with not one but two Jawas." Jo jokingly threatened.

Peli laughed heartily, "Fair enough. It's good to see you."

"It's good to see you too. But I gotta ask," Jo gestured to the marvel sitting in the hangar, "How did you manage a find like this?"

Peli shrugged as if it were nothing and offered her standard explanation, "Jawas. You like it?"

"Like it?!" Jo exclaimed.

"She's magnificent…" Jo heard Din remark from behind her. Completely in awe over the ship. Grogu’s ears perked at the sound of Din’s voice, making Jo’s heart melt.

"I thought you might say that. She's a bit banged up here and there, but I fixed her up real good," Peli spoke with her usual air of confidence.

"Wait…" Jo finally realized what this ship was. She put her hand to her head and her eyes grew wide as she looked from Peli, to the ship, to Din. "You don't mean that this is the new ship?!"

"I do mean that, that is if it's up to Grandpa's standards." Peli gestured to Din who was examining the ship, running his hands along the wings and hull like it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. And Jo couldn't help but agree.

"What do you think Mando?" Jo asked, jokingly emphasizing the name she used to use for him.

His helmet quickly turned to her and she could feel the glare from here. "Is she up to your 'standards'?"

He started back over to Peli and Jo. "She’s perfect. Peli, I don't think I can afford a ship like this…"

"You can with the friends and family discount I'm going to give you now." She grinned. "50% off. I'm not taking 'no' for an answer, Mando."

He folded his arms in front of his chest, he knew there was always a catch with Peli. Jo knew it too.

"Alright, fine. 50% off and I need you to run a small errand for me. Nothing crazy I swear." She admitted.

"Uh huh…" Jo said skeptically, "To where?"

"Naboo. Like I said, nothing crazy. I just need you to pick up a couple crates of parts from a friend in Theed and bring them to my shop." Peli explained.

"And then I keep the ship?" Din reconfirmed.

Peli nodded, "Yes and then you keep the ship. Do we have a deal?" She stuck her hand out. Din hesitated for a moment, but then grasped her hand and shook it.

"Deal." He spoke firmly. Jo practically jumped for joy over the prospect of traversing the galaxy with Din and Grogu in such beauty. Then it hit her that she was going back to Naboo. She hadn't been there since she was a teenager. She felt a mixture of excitement inside. Jo had wanted to explain her origins to Din before Bane had taken her, and maybe returning to Naboo was the time to do it.

"Jo?" Din's voice interrupts her train of thought.

She looked at him, “Yeah?”

“I asked if you wanted to rest longer or if you felt ready to travel.” He sounded concerned, which wasn’t unfounded. Jo had been getting rather lost in thought today.

“No need. I’m fine, I swear. Just a little caught up in my own head today,” she placed a hand on his bicep and gave him a reassuring squeeze.

Peli didn’t hang around for too long. She didn’t want to leave, but she had to get back to Mos Eisley for a delivery. Jo had returned to her room to get herself dressed before leaving, while Din prepped the ship with Grogu. Jo’s heart felt light as air as she dressed in the clothes that Fennec had left for her. The outfit was just a simple pair of black pants, a black turtleneck tank, and a leather bomber jacket. She didn’t have anything to pack so she didn’t have that to worry about. Shortly after getting dressed and saying her farewells to Fennec and Boba, she met Din back at the hangar. He leaned lazily against the piston of the gangplank. The simple relaxation of his body language made a familiar heat burn low in Jo’s stomach. The beginnings of a fire she hadn’t felt in a long time, and it excited her.

“Ready?” Din asked as he pushed off from his position and placed a hand on Jo’s waist.

“I’ve never been more ready in my life.” The two boarded the ship and entered the cockpit. Jo took her seat in the copilot's chair and Din took the controls. The ship came to life and Jo’s heart was a flutter. She was so excited. She had only ever heard stories of these ships, never having seen one in real life. The ship flew like a dream, taking every twist and turn like it was nothing. Jo couldn’t see Din’s face, but she knew he was beaming. Din wanted to test out the manuevering in the atmosphere before heading out into space. Jo sat in the copilot’s seat, holding a very happy Grogu. She felt a sense of true inner peace. Once Din was satisfied with how the ship was handling, they exited the atmosphere. He put in the coordinates for Naboo and launched into hyperspace.

Grogu had fallen asleep in Jo’s arms and she hadn’t wanted to move, for fear of waking him, and had fallen asleep herself in the process. However Din knew that the kid could sleep through anything, so he scooped the limp sleeping body of his foundling from her arms and placed him into his bassinet and returned his attention to the also limp body of Jo. He smiled softly to himself and lifted her from her seat, carrying her to the modified transport bay. Peli had converted the troop transport into reasonably sized sleeping quarters. Din gently placed Jo down on the bed, careful not to wake her, and returned to the controls of the ship. He hoped that they would reach Naboo in time for her surprise. Unbeknownst to her, there was no errand. Peli had made that up to help Din get her to Naboo without raising her suspicions. What they were truly going for was something far more fun than running an errand. He smiled to himself as he relaxed into the pilot’s chair.

She’s going to love it.

Chapter 10 | Chapter 12 | Masterlist

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techmiranda · 2 years

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Cad Bane - The Concept of Trust: Part 1 - Meeting and Departing (SW fanfiction)

Relying on, or trusting anyone else than yourself is a fool's errand, and anyone is replaceable. This is something two bounty hunters, Cad Bane and She can agree, but what is going to happen when this belief is put in a test time and again during the years?

...Ok, this was first meant just for the drawer, but then I grew so fond of writing this story of Cad Bane x OC female bounty hunter with issues of her own, that I decided to share it. It's becoming a novel, now in total there is some 36 parts ready (oops!) that I'm posting after I get them refined, but the stories inside are 1-6 chapters long. It's mature fanfic and smut, containing depictions of sex and violence (you have now been warned!), so I can't put it all here, but if darker side action-romance might be your thing, please go and check. :)

Part 1: Meeting and Departing

Bane was having a problem. The contract was good, the pay was good, but this time he didn't know how to proceed. There were too many precautions and too little knowledge of the target and this was definitely not one he wanted to approach without a good plan. He perfunctorily cycled through the database of bounty hunters active in the region, until one in particular caught his eye. Bane had heard her name a couple of times. A female hunter, not very well-known, but a couple of others had given praise of her preparations and information gathering skills. It seemed she was only a short trip away so Bane decided to give it a shot. He did not want to transmit any info via the bounty-net, and certainly not across open comms; better to see who she was and make sure no one picked up what was going on.

Bane contacted her just to settle a time to meet. She gave the coordinates of a smaller spaceport in the Outer Rim and when Bane arrived he saw a ship named " The Dalcassian". It was a modified YT-2400 cargo-type freighter with adequate guns and some other modifications to serve its purpose better. Not bad. Bane liked some of the mods he saw. He went in and was a bit disappointed that the cargo door was open. Sloppy. She had her back turned to him, doing some welding as Bane went in.

"Your door was wide open." Bane said, trying to see if she was startled.

"No, I opened it for you as I picked up from the port's comms line your ship had landed and saw you approaching from the cameras. As you can see I have my hands full for a moment. Wait a minute, you'll soon have my attention." she said without turning her head.

Bane raised his eyebrows. Not bad. Not bad at all. Maybe this trip was not in vain. He leaned his back towards the wall and continued watching her. Nice frame. Muscular. Bane liked what he saw, though it did not matter. This was business and not pleasure.

In a couple of minutes she had finished her job and turned around.

"So what can I do for you?" her face was strong and eyes were questioning.

"I need some information about a certain person and facility."

"Sure, give me all the data you can and specify what you need and I see what I can do. How much time do I have?"

"You will get the name and the coordinates of the facility. And you have until tomorrow evening."

She looked at him, raising her eyebrow. "You understand that with poor background info and scope you will get poor intel?"

"I am not going to share any details with you. Just do what I tell you."

She sneered, and her eyes narrowed to slits. "Your call. Also, it's not much time. I am not sure how much data I can get for you. Depends of the target."

"Do what you can. I was told you are adequate in this so prove it!" Bane snapped when giving her the chip.

She seemed to get more annoyed when hearing his tone. "If that's what they say. ...Fine. Well, I have some work to do so if you please..." she waved her hand towards the door, turning her back at him, already heading towards the cockpit. Meeting was clearly over. Bane was not sure what to think of her watching her walk away. A bit feisty.

Early the next evening she sent him a message to say that she was coming with the findings, and asked if they could meet on his ship. It was all the same for Bane so in ten minutes she arrived. Bane waited on the ramp and stretched out his hand for the chip. She hesitated for a moment.

"You just want the chip?"

"That's what I paid for, what's the problem?" Bane sounded irritated.

"Ok. Listen to me for a moment. I was able to sift through some of the data already, so if you want to save yourself some work, I suggest you lend me your ear for a moment."

Bane scowled. "Are you trying to tell me how to do my job?" he snarled.

She looked at him wearily. "No, I am just trying to give you more useful and refined information instead of raw data. Then you decide what you do with it."

What the hell did she think she could give that was so valuable? But, he admitted that he was a bit curious and there was still time.

"Fine. Come in."

She followed him and put the chip in the data pad she had brought with her, as she started to explain what she had found out; It was surprisingly much. Bane now understood why she was reluctant to just give the chip, it would have taken a lot of effort and time to sort out the most useful information as he hadn't given her any specifications where to focus. Bane could not disagree. She was good. The points and processing of the info she had made were in the mark. It took fifteen minutes for her to explain her findings. She sat on the chair and Bane crouched over her shoulder to see better. She did not seem to be a bit bothered by how close Bane was. That was a tad uncommon as he tended to have an opposite effect on most.

Then she stood up, handing him the chip. "That's it. Good hunt." and with that she walked out.

Bane watched her leave Hell. That woman was undervalued.

As time went by Bane found himself visiting her ship more often for information. He could have just sent the requests, but for some reason he wanted to do it face-to-face when possible. At first, his requests were only for intel, but later he asked her to attend on occasions when he needed a group. She did not disappoint on that front either. She was a professional. Good with guns, flying, repairs, mechanics and tech. Was able to hold her ground in hand-to-hand combat and her tactical eye was almost as good as her information gathering skills. Not bad. Not rough for the eye either.

Some years passed by and she had become one of the mercenaries Bane used regularly. He admitted he had grown ...used to having her in the team and her abilities were undeniable. She had a sarcastic sense of humour and seemed to give rats about Bane's not-so-approachable reputation and snarky remarks, returning them swiftly with a crooked grin, but only outside work. On missions she was consummate professional, reliable and good at following orders and that was something Bane could respect. He admitted their mutual banter was ...enjoyable. Sometimes he thought there was almost a flirting undertone, but it was always gone faster than Bitefly sting gave you a rash. She wasn't the type to mix business and pleasure either and that was something Bane could respect too. It made things clearer.

Several years later Bane had gathered a group for the mission. They were to capture a Gran merchant. Alive. She had done the intel and was giving the last briefing, going through the layout of the facility and guard rotations. Bane watched her bend over the table. A position she often seemed to work in. He found himself wondering how she might react if, one day, he would go over there and press himself against her, grabbing... Bane shook his head. Druk. This was no time to be distracted. ...And yet the thought came back. He snapped out of it feeling irritated.

"That's enough, let's go."

She looked at him puzzled. "Bane, there are a couple of things you should know that I fou-."

"We have enough information. Everybody knows the plan, their places and job. Go."

She looked after him but did not continue, just shrugged her shoulders and followed others.

It was not an easy mission, but everybody had a specific job to take out guards and cut the escape routes on different areas as Bane entered the compound and pursued the target. The only problem was the unmarked emergency exit that led straight to a yard where the Gran merchant’s very own ship was fuelled and waiting. The guards were able to keep Bane at bay for a moment to give the target more time to get away. Fuck, Bane thought, thinking if this was one of the "couple of more things" she was trying to tell him Before he had cut her off. Bane finished the guards and ran after the prey, only to see Gran nearing the ship, too far away that even the filament cable could reach him. Bane cursed.

Then he saw a familiar figure on the other side of the ship, obviously ignorant of the approaching merchant. Bane cursed again. What the hell was she doing there? She was supposed to be on the other side of the compound to take down the guards. Then he saw Gran pointing his blaster at her and Bane fired his gun towards the merchant without thinking further, bolt missing the merchant's head only by inches. The Gran ceased his attack, and darted for the ship, the boarding ramp already closing before he had disappeared from view. By now, she had noticed the merchant, but made no gesture to pursue. She was too far off anyways, but she didn't even seem to react that much, just looking how their target got safely away behind the ship's doors and started the engines. The prey would be gone in seconds.

Bane was infuriated. Not only that the prize had escaped, but that he had almost killed the target and lost the bounty... And for what? To save a woman who hadn’t the sense to stay in position and stick to the plan. A woman that made him so distracted, that he had almost blasted his payday to smithereens.

Bane bolted down to her. She did not seem to understand what was going on when the snarling Duros was at her face.

"What the fuck were you doing here?"

She looked at him, eyes narrowing.

"I was..."

"You were meant to be on the other side, taking care of the guards there!"

"I did..."

Bane waved his hand and turned away, not wanting to hear what she was going to say. He felt uneasy and did not want to dwell on a thought, that his anger was maybe nearly as much because she was almost shot than that his prize had escaped. Bane winced at the thought. Why did he even give Bantha's druk about if she had been killed? There were plenty of bounty hunters around if needed. This was becoming ...personal and Bane did not like it. He turned around looking at her perplexed expression.

"You are a weakness. I can't afford that." His voice was dour as he said the words slowly.

She looked at him, her eyes widening as she dwelled in the words, standing still for a moment, trying to find the words and Bane was able to see how she kept her anger just hardly at bay. Then she exhaled and her demeanor changed to cold and rigid. She stared Bane right into eyes when walking in front of him, so close Bane was able to feel her body heat.

"I finished my job there and secured the doors. As you did not care to hear about the unmarked route, or the ship, I came here for a back-up plan."

She slammed a small device against Bane's chest.

"I put a tracking device on his ship in case he was able to escape."

Bane looked at her speechless.

"You better get going. Shouldn't lose that precious prize." With that, she barged past him, and it was no accident that her shoulder struck Bane’s chest.

#starwars fanfic #cad bane #cad bane x oc #oc #bounty hunters #action romance #fanfiction #action #star wars fanfiction #starwars fandom #star wars #bounty hunter

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kochleean · 1 year

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see more of my art here

art plans:

fallout--- charon , desmond l , deegan , coursers , jotun

sw- cad bane , mando ,

monster- trolls , snowwhite bridge troll , centaurs , minotaurs, merman , troll!jim trollhunters ,

cpt hook x wendy or tink or oc female captain ?

treasure planet '02 jim , john silver ,

swedes tua

bg3 - zevlor , halsin , aasimar ocs , tieflings in general ,

cod - comic ghost , konig , civil ocs ,

carol at the end of the world

blue eyed samurai- the BE samurai , BE samurai x fowler ,

reg show- mordecai ,

Bright- jakoby , leilah , will smith lol ,

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itsagrimm · 2 years

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Star Wars Sexuality

Since the galaxy far far away is populated with many sentient species and not just humans, most of our regular established vocabulary is useless to describe the in universe desire, romance and attraction concepts between humans and non-humans.

Xenosexual as a word to describe attraction to the alien is probably too broad due to the amount of alien species within the star wars universe. I mean, saying one is into aliens, the strange and off-worldly is kind of weird when everyone is an alien.

Also, what does eg bisexual mean to species with different ideas about gender?

What does trans mean to an alien where gender is not that big of a deal or transness is super common or even the norm?

What does partnership mean to a people that has different traditions or expectations around it?

Basically, Gender? Sexuality? Sex? nothing matters anymore.

(and yes, i am still mad that they had rigid marriage concepts in the og movies and that not everyone is at least a bit gay.)

#like come on its supposed to be scifi and different why do they have lame societal expectations #yes this is the aftermath of me thinking about my OCs sexuality and how to say that they are into cad bane as a female human #star wars #trans twi'lek #poe x finn #star wars fanfiction #star wars the clone wars #grimmwriting #dr aphra

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tastyskaglick · 3 years

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lookin for star wars RP/chat

as long as this post remains as my pinned message, it means im still looking, please send me a dm!

I would LOVE to rp some stuff for the Bad Batch boys which would be long-term plot with smut, fluff and adventure!

I adore crosshair x hunter, echo x crosshair, echo x tech, echo x hunter, wrecker is cute but I’m not mainly lookin for a ship with him. Interested in doing stuff pre-show or after with alterations for canon. I’d love to rp Echo or Crosshair!

So I’m MOSTLY looking for someone to RP these guys

Hunter {to my Crosshair and Echo}

Crosshair {to my Echo}

Tech {to my Echo}

Maybe an Echo to my Crosshair?

I’m also happy doing a polyship where we take more than one of the boys to RP as, I can double as Tech or Hunter for background use and plot advancements but would rather mainly be Echo and Crosshair.

I do NOT want trans headcanons nor ABO Dynamics, I cannot stress this enough, I want cis men and no male pregnancies. I also have no interest in ocs or female characters either.

open to discussing other ships, im a BIG BIG FAN of general grievous, obi-wan {maybe together?}, rex, cody, plo koon, cad bane.... uuhh

you MUST be 21+ {im a little lenient, but no one under 18 for sure} i have 15+ years of RP history LMAO, rp would be on a private discord, but hit me a message here if you wanna discuss further!!

#star wars: the bad batch #the bad batch #star wars #star wars rp #echo x crosshair #crosshair x hunter #male x male #mlm #the bad batch rp

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chaoticookie-autonomous · 4 years

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Under Your Spell

Day 6 - AU

AU: Drive (2011 Film) with some of my own twists; Star Wars-verse(ish). No space magick, Jedi, or Sith. Pairing: Maul x Móni (OC) Rating: T Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: So... did a thing. Hope you enjoy :]

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A small window framed a dark location covered in smog and sweating buildings, often a flash of bright lights from speeders zooming past was about all the color that splashed onto the bleak picture. It was also the bedroom’s only view, the resident never bothering to cover up the gaping reminder of a life she had to force herself to wake up every morning to.

Durmónia tied her thick head of black curls on top her head, unable to pull back the stray strands over her forehead. She checked her dark features in the bathroom mirror and noted the black circles forming under her eyes--their sunset hues dimmed under the poor lighting. For a moment she considered hiding her weariness with some layers of make-up but decided it wasn’t worth the risk of being late.

Outside the room was the chattering voices of the holonews coming from a hologram displayed before a theelin teen in a hoverchair. He stared on without interest in what was being said, his thoughts far away from the drab apartment.

“Kyp,” Durmónia returned him to the present. “Want me to bring you something back from the diner?”

He angled his hoverchair to face her better, his blue eyes blinking slowly with a hardship no one his age should be allowed to carry.

“No. I’m okay. Betts is making something for me right now.”

Coming around the kitchen was a service droid on a single wheel holding a tall cup that gave off a whiff of fruit juices Durmónia was skeptical about.

“Where did you get those ingredients from?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” was its terse response before holding the smoothie’s straw to Kyp’s mouth.

With no time to argue, she gathered a double-breasted jacket with faded stains off a chair and slung a bag over her shoulder.

“Okay. I gotta go,” she pressed a kiss to Kyp’s lavender forehead then smacked Betts’ metal head. “We’re having a talk about stealing when I get back.”

Checking the chronometer, she cursed under her breath and sped down the hall of doors and glowing numbers to the lift at the end of it. The seconds it took to reach the garage floor, irritation igniting her nerves when it halted for other residents, was endless. At its final stop, she slivered her way out the moment the door spun open and sped walked to her landspeeder, passing the silent neighbor who was making their way to the lift.

His crown of ivory horns curved out prominently against the crimson skin where black tattoos marked every section of his bare skull, face, and neck. She glanced his way a moment and caught drops of golden amber peeking back at her as well.

A hand smacked a panel with buttons bent and faded from the number of times it had been pressed for an order ready at the window. Within the steam of food in the clamorous kitchen, a balosar female sigh in aggravation.

“Hey!” she pressed the panel several more times. “Get the kriffing food! Stupid droid…”

“Shysha, give them a second,” Durmónia came around and plated sizzling, charred meat. “Their processors are as old as some of the freeze packages of food still packed in the storeroom.”

“You know you can do better than work in some backwater diner, right?” Shysha rubbed one of her antennaepalps with discomfort from the oil spitting at them. “Only reason why this place is still open is because of you.”

“Yeah, well,” Durmónia finished sautéing a pan of multicolored vegetables and distributed them on several plates, “not easy to find work when you have an extensive criminal record you’ve been falsely accused of.”

“Thanks to that we got less shoot outs and bar fights in here.”

Durmónia broke into a laugh, “Is that the real reason why I’m being kept here?”

“Secret’s out.”

“And here I thought it was because of my charming personality.”

Shysha raised her brows, “Charming isn’t quite the word I would use to describe you.”

The order she had placed on the window was still being warmed under the heat-panel and slammed the panel prompter again.

“Droid!”

“I got it.”

Durmónia checked for the table number on the console and took the plate to the customer who had their blue hands patiently folded over their face. He moved aside his wide-brimmed hat to make space for the meal.

“Sorry, Bane,” she met the striking, red gaze meant to keep bystanders at bay. “It’s on the house.”

He waved a hand of indifference and spoke with grains in his throat and the support of his breathing tubes, “I’ll pay what needs to be paid.”

Unconvinced, she grinned at a proposition, “Ale on the house?”

“Two,” he agreed easily.

Durmónia squinted, “You didn’t sabotage our droid did you?”

“What gave you that idea?” he hid a coy smirk by taking a bite into his meal.

“I’m only allowing it this one time as a thank you for taking your bounty outside the restaurant and not shooting up the place the other day.”

“Much obliged, ma’am.”

Past the transparent pane that extended across the diner’s front face, a speeder bike parked alongside the other vehicles and a male with a horned helmet and a black, leather jacket swung off the seat.

“Is it our steel-legged regular?” Cad Bane observed. “What does the fellow order here anyways? Don’t think I’ve ever seen him eat.”

Durmónia followed the masked male, the neon lights of the diner’s sign reflecting off the visor.

“Tea.”

Bane hummed with mild interest and remained silent when the being with crimson skin removed his helmet and sat himself down.

“He’s a strange one.”

“You’re one to talk,” she scoffed. “You order the same thing every week too.”

“He wears the same jacket every night he comes here,” he explained. “New markings on it each time. New bruises. Carries no blaster. And he’s no bounty hunter. I would know.”

“That’s quite a study. You thinking of asking him out on a date?”

He released a grainy growl, “Get me my ale. Two of them.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Her eyes followed a droid hovering to the zabrak’s table and taking its order before returning to the kitchen where there was a single order on the console’s display.

“Same thing?” Shysha came up behind her.

“Same thing,” Durmónia confirmed.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

Three in the morning and her feet hurt from being on them all day without taking a single break, but her speeder decided to steam and made strange noises when she started it. She opened its hood and was engulfed with black fumes she waved and coughed at then stared at the coils, cylinders, and wires as if they were her greatest enemy.

“Okay,” she calmed herself and started to reach for the first thing Kyp had taught her from memory. But she yelped in pain at her burning fingers.

“Kriff!”

In the corner of her eye was a shadow looming beside her and on impulse slid her foot forward and brought a fist into an undercut that was stopped with ease by a leather bound hand.

Amber eyes gleamed with mild amusement at her hand in his, then fell away to the somber exterior she always saw on him in the sparse seconds of their silent interactions.

“Sorry!” she returned her hand. “Didn’t know—didn’t hear you. You’re so quiet.”

Durmónia cleared the nerves building in her throat at the proximity and catching the details of his tattoos for the first time; how well the designs accentuated his features.

“Do you require assistance?” his voice rumbled smoothly from his chest.

“Ah,” she rubbed her bare arm, the uniform discarded long ago to release the kitchen’s heat. “A bit. Not good with machines. They have a vendetta set out against me.”

“Let me take a look.”

“Oh, no. You don’t have to,” she held her hands up. “It’s really late and I can take the train home.”

Halfway through her protests he maneuvered his way to the speeder and dug his hands into the engine.

Durmónia scratched her head in thought, considering several times to push him out of the way and be more direct about it being alright to take the train. However, she lost herself in his tinkering, the knuckles moving under the fabric of his gloves in the low light of the neon sign which also reflected a helix earring.

“You need more light?”

“No. Almost finished.”

“That was fast.”

“A temporary fix to get you home. You will need to have it looked at.”

“I know someone who’s pretty savvy with this stuff. Keeps telling me to just get a new one.”

“It is...,” he faded as he straightened himself up, “not a good speeder.”

“The model?”

“This one specifically.”

“No need to be so harsh,” she patted the vehicle. “It’s been through some tough times.”

“Its time has ended.”

Durmónia barked a laugh, “Alright. Well…” What am I thinking? “To thank you for your troubles would you like to come over for tea? I have your favorite kind.”

He paused halfway to shutting the hood.

“I mean—,” spurts of panic elevated her heart rate and backtracked. “I mean, maybe not now. It’s super late and you probably have other things to do and I take stuff from the diner all the time, so I have a bunch of other stuff at home, not just that tea specifically. Plus, I don’t live alone and—”

“Now is fine,” he closed the lid then turned from her being able to see his face. “I will see you there.”

It wasn’t until he reached the speeder bike and placed on his helmet did Durmónia stumble into the driver’s seat and whirred the speeder’s repulsorlift to life.

The lift’s glowpanels flickered when they raised to their floor.

Durmónia softly chewed on her lower lip, taking in the disciplined posture of the being beside her who also stared intently ahead of them.

“I’m Móni.”

His rigid form softened, the shoulders dipping in just the slightest, and showed her a bit more than his profile.

“Maul.”

Steaming, black liquid poured through a strainer and into a cup, which was then set on the kitchen’s island that divided the living area. Durmónia did her best to not stare at the black diamonds on his knuckles when he grasped the beverage in his hands.

He didn’t take a seat, instead standing while he took a sip.

“How long you been on Coruscant?” she leaned back against the sink, steadying the quake in her legs.

“Several years.”

“So, only relatively new here in the building.”

“Yes,” his attention was taken away to subtle movements behind a closed room. “You live with a boy.”

She nodded to Kyp’s room, “Yeah, he’s been with me a year before you moved in.”

“Related?”

“Uh,” Durmónia shifted her weight with discomfort and decided to start cleaning the single cup Kyp drank his smoothie out of before she left. “No. I’m a friend of his father who’s in prison. Taking him in until he gets out.”

The cup striking the counter hit her ears louder than the running water, and from over her shoulder caught a scowl pouring into his cup. Before he could open his mouth to speak his apologies, she dropped the dishes and dried her hands on her pants.

“What do you do?”

This time, it seemed it was her turn asking the wrong questions when he searched for an answer to give off to the side.

“I am a contractor for a businessman,” he chose his words carefully.

“Oh,” Durmónia felt she had broached a taboo subject which pushed her curiosity. “What kind?”

Maul remained unmoving, a shadow of anger casting over his features; hardening his appearance into something wild.

Cad Bane’s warning echoed in her head, inciting her to scan the leather jacket that was frayed at the ends and had darkened splotches of carbon scoring. There was also a decolorization on his cheek bone she recognized from experience what the cause was.

He downed the remainder of the tea and gently set it aside.

“The kind that provides my services to those in need of it,” the helmet slid off the counter and under his arm. “You should rest.”

Before Durmónia could try to act like a good host and show him out, the area littered with articles of clothing she really should have put away when she woke that morning, Maul already had his finger to the door panel.

“Thank you for the drink.”

“Not a problem. Hard to pass on a free drink, right?”

Maul inclined his head some, unable to hide the deep furrow of concern on his brow ridge.

Not wanting to end the night on a sour note, Durmónia sucked in a deep breath.

“See you at the diner again?”

He stopped just past the doorframe and faced her.

Their similar height forced them to look directly at the other, a spark igniting in between the distance.

How long had she watched the unnamed zabrak? From the moment he moved-in to his constant appearance at the diner. Never eating, only taking the same order while staring past the customers and the muggy moisture that fogged Coruscant’s lower levels. Always deep in his world, never been seen with another or held any interactions with another lifeform, except when she caught his stray glances into the kitchens.

But now the mysterious rider had a name to the face, and he had become a reality she could possibly touch and not this unattainable being. And when the lines of his discomfort smoothed away, she melted into the kindness that rose on the corner of his lips.

“Yes.”

She watched him off, the joints of his cybernetics whirring past several doors down the hall, until he reached his apartment.

“Who was that?”

Durmónia jumped at Kyp hovering close behind her.

“A friend,” she recovered from the scare then gathered her clothes from the couch and chairs.

“That’s good.”

She faced the teen with a pile in her arms, “Good?”

“Yeah,” he maneuvered the hoverchair to the couch and motioned his eyes to the space behind it. “You haven’t hung out with anyone since I’ve been here.”

“That’s…,” a bra was recovered she thought had been lost forever. “It has been awhile.”

“Shouldn’t stop your social life on my account. Also, if you’re worried about how I feel about it because of Dad, don’t be. I know you two haven’t really been together for some time now.”

Durmónia spun on her heel, “Alright. What do you want?”

Kyp hovered back to his room, hiding his victory, “I get to bring a friend over too.”

“I never said you couldn’t bring him over.”

“Yeah, but,” he gave a dramatic sigh, “didn’t want to make you feel like a third wheel.”

“How considerate of you. Little monkey-lizard,” she paused at pulling out a pair of shorts from under the couch. “Wait a second. Maul isn’t that kind of friend.”

“Alright,” Kyp didn’t sound convinced. “Tell me that when you’re not actually cleaning the apartment you haven’t touched in months.”

She clicked her tongue at him and carried the high stack to her room, “Go to bed. And tell Betts I haven’t forgotten her recent escapades.”

“Night, Móni,” he chuckled.

Durmónia collapsed on her bed, breathing in the rush still thrumming in her veins from the encounter and hugged a pillow to bury her grin into.

Her grip loosened when she recounted Maul’s possible occupation, though. How it could affect her life. Kyp’s life. If it was something that should be pursued.

She undid her hair and massaged the scalp under the thick mass of curls from the main dilemma at hand. How she had been completely trapped under his spell.

_________________________________________

A/N: I will be writing Maul’s POV for the SWPOC week for coded characters of color. As for the story itself.. depending on how many notes the fic gets, may or may not continue with this.

Thanks for reading!

#darth maul #maul #drabble #fanfic #fic #oc #swpocweek2020 #swpoc #drive #drive 2011 #au

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thebluevipersden · 2 years

Text

Tales of the Flame and the Rain

Star Wars fanfiction / PART 01 / Words: 2598 // AO3 Pairing: Cad Bane X female OC Tags: Slow Build, Slow Burn, Creatures, Tension, Angst, Thriller(ish) Summary: Yrsa and her dangerous acklay, Cog live peacefully in their shipwreck home, until a mysterious man in a hat suddenly bursts into their lives. It turns out that not everyone can be tamed… Thanks to @deepbluespace4 for the beta reading! music for the vibe Next episode ➔

PROLOGUE

The acklay species

Acklays are amphibious reptilian crustaceans. Its mouth is filled with razor-sharp teeth. The species has stretchy stomachs and three eyes. They walk on six hardened, skin-covered claws, and have grappling hands. They use an organ beneath their chin to sense the body electricity given off by its prey, which it would then spear with its pointed legs. Acklays are carnivorous, predatory animals. They were used as execution beasts. The species is lightning fast and aggressive. It's a creature that even a Jedi would be fearful of, thanks in part to its terrifying appearance and abilities.

The design of the acklay shares the characteristics of praying mantises and Velociraptors. Later refinements added lobster features to them.

Source: Wookieepedia

The location

The story takes place in a wild jungle-like forest with a large junkyard nearby. Nature has already begun to reclaim this environment. It’s full of destroyed spaceships and other smashed gadgets. The area may once have been the site of a war, but is now completely uninhabited. Almost uninhabited…

CHAPTER ONE Silence before the storm

It was a slightly cold and gray autumn evening. The landscape was covered in dense fog, from which the figure of a young girl appeared. Yrsa walked slowly alongside the creek and observed her mechanic traps in the water.

- What a catch! Today we’ll be feasting! Hey, Cog! Come here boy!

From the distance, a soft growl followed the sounds of clawed footsteps. The outline of a huge gloomy looking creature emerged and quickly approached the girl. The beast was an acklay.

- Heeey, who’s the good boy! - She gently scratched the animal’s giant head. - Catch it!

Yrsa threw a fleshy fish to the creature and he swallowed the whole thing in one big bite. His sharp fangs flickered.

- Oh my, you were very hungry, pal! - She said and caressed the creature. In response, he grunted deeply and rubbed his head to the palms of the girl.

- Aaaww… Come, let’s look at the other traps!

They both walked alongside the creek and the night slowly descended.

The girl and her beast headed towards home. Yrsa loved to walk in the woods at night. She was somehow reassured by the sounds of the nocturnal nature. The night air has the strangest flavor and she loved to inhale and sink in it. She felt a special attraction to the darkness. It filled her soul with serenity mixed with thrill. But of course, there was no reason to be afraid of anything with Cog on her side. He was a huge carnivorous predator and there were no creatures nearby bigger than him. In this very night the Moon shone subtly, periodically covered and uncovered with clouds. Everything was calm, but somehow the silence was strangely greater than ever. Yrsa found this a little bit unusual, but she didn’t attach much importance to it. They continued their way on the path they already knew, when Cog suddenly stopped...

- Hey! What happened, boy?

The creature didn’t move at all. He fixedly looked at a single point in front of them in the woods.

- Um… Cog? What did you see? Is it some prey of yours there?

Yrsa tried to look in the same direction. She narrowed her eyes but saw nothing, but the darkness itself. Cog, on the other hand, had excellent night vision.

- Cooome on pal! Let’s go on! We caught a lot of food for the next few days, it’s more than enough!

But Cog stood rigid and still. Yrsa started to worry. Restlessness slowly overcame her. Suddenly the animal began to growl loudly and ran into the thicket of the forest with really fast moves.

- What the… Cog! Wait!

She jumped over some bushes, rushed towards the creature and tried not to lose sight of him.

- He is fast. Cooog! COG!!

Yrsa ran a few meters after him when she suddenly spotted something. Something really strange. She shivered at the coldness of the sight. In the direction Cog was running, Yrsa noticed a shady figure on one of the taller trees. The shape of a man stood on a thick branch and stared firmly at her. The girl didn't see him well enough, the foliage casted shadows on his body. She only saw that the strange figure was distinctly tall and spindly and as if… As if his eyes were glowing blood red… Yrsa had an uneasy feeling deep inside her bones.

At that moment, Cog ran back to Yrsa and stood defensively in front of her. The animal also stared grumbling at the tree Yrsa had been watching so far. He began to growl and screeched in an almost deafening, unearthly voice.

- Is… Is anyone there? - She shouted timidly.

In response came only silence and the noise of the wind-blown leaves.

Cog shrieked so loudly that his voice shrilled through the night air, then trailed off a bit.

- Oh, are you all right? - Yrsa touched and gently stroked the side of the creature and looked at him for a moment to check if everything was okay with him. When the girl looked back at the tree, the figure had already turned into mist, disappeared into the darkness. She glanced away for only a split second, but that was just enough time for the mysterious shadow to vanish.

- Huh… - Restlessness settled over the girl.

They stood there for a while, as if lightning struck them. Before long Cog slowly fell silent and calmed down. Yrsa was still breathing heavily. She was scared of the unexpected encounter. They had lived in this forest with Cog for so many years, but had never seen anyone other than them and the animals of the woods. It is an isolated, uninhabited area where no one goes to. But this time someone else was present and lurked around...

Cog and Yrsa soon reached their campsite. The rest of the way was uneventful. Cog was much calmer, he walked so peacefully, almost as if nothing had happened before. The creature was silent behind the girl, only his six legs knocked rhythmically on the firm ground. But for Yrsa, this incident left a mark in her soul. That was a mark of something dark with a sense of foreboding. Who was that? Did he want something from them? Or was he just a lost or wandering stranger and nothing dangerous at all? On that night she couldn't sleep for a moment.

The campsite where they lived with Cog was a hideout converted from the wreckage of a crashed Tie Interceptor. Their small spaceship home was on the edge of a forest clearing next to a large lake surrounded by cliffs. Around their home there were a lot of various gadgets, machine parts, tools and other mechanical things, lying all over the place. Yrsa was an ardent engineer youngling. She was impressed by the way technology works. She loved to build, to make robots or devices. Her ability was useful in the wilderness, for her fishing traps or other practical uses. When she found an injured animal, she loved to build tiny tools for them. Once she met a beakless loth-crow and gave it a new mechanical one instead of the missing body part, then let it back into nature. That felt so good. Yrsa also made some reinforcements for Cog. She loved to craft anything useful or shield-like equipments to her beast. That was her favourite activity. The two of them lived undisturbed in this place, until yesterday.

In the morning Yrsa came out from the ship shelter exhausted and disheveled. She was tired because of her vigilance. The girl yawned, then looked around. Her gaze stopped at Cog. Yrsa was a bit sad that Cog had grown so much over the years that he unfortunately no longer fit inside the ship, next to her bed. Nowadays the creature slept in an outside shed, which was attached to their home. Cog lay there now and slept peacefully with a very loud snore. Yrsa watched the animal.

- Oh, my hero guardian… - She smiled at him, then stepped out the door.

She often thought about what happened the night before. The girl cautiously examined their surroundings but didn't notice anything suspicious or strange. There was no sign of movement. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and listened to the wind:

The branches are crackling… The leaves are whispering… A few smaller animals are nesting and scraping on the ground… Similar insects are circling each other constantly… A bird or two are chirping on the rattling foliages of the trees… The blanket of the lake is gurgling and splashing backwards and forwards… Backwards and forwards… Backwards… And forwards…

Yrsa opened her eyes. She could only hear the average layered sound textures of the forest. The girl knew them well enough. Yrsa was a little relieved but for safety's sake, she decided to fabricate some alarm traps, which she would later hide carefully around their home area. If any suspicious movement is detected during the night, the small devices will signal it to her. She immediately started to build them.

The night fell again. The Moon was already high in the sky when the sharp noises of Yrsa’s alarm devices violently broke the silence. Yrsa jumped up from her bed in horror and her heart pounded madly. - The traps… It’s… - She slowly crawled out of the bed to look through the window. She pulled aside the curtain and peered out.

- No, no, no… It’s him again… I knew something was wrong with him… - She said anxiously.

The red eyed shade from last night leaned his back to a large rock in front of their home. His dark shape was subtly illuminated by the pale blue moonlight. He revealed a little more of himself than he did yesterday. The man wore a long coat and a remarkably wide cowboy hat. He monitored the window where the girl stood and stared at her. In his right hand he held one of Yrsa's deactivated traps and tossed it up and down. Yrsa didn't move in front of the window, she stared back at him and started to breathe faster.

- ….What’s your plan? - Thought the girl, worried.

The dreadful figure formed a pistol from his left hand and then pointed his index finger to Yrsa. He stopped for a moment… Then pretended to fire with his handpistol. He grinned in a barely visible way and slowly blew away his “smoking gun”.

- That… Bastard… - She gave him a perplexed look.

The intruder didn't stay there too long because the deep growl of Cog broke the moment. The enormous animal emerged from the side of the shipwreck and started approaching their stalker. The man with the hat cheekily waved a goodbye to Cog and with quick acrobatic movements escaped into the dense forest.

Yrsa stepped out of the ship and sighed. Cog ran back to her and poked his head to her side.

- I’m okay, buddy. I just… I think I'm going to sleep next to you tonight…

Cog made himself comfortable on his bunk. Yrsa snuggled close to him, buried her face in the side of the animal and watched that very point in the forest where the ominous being disappeared from her sight.

The mysterious stalker with the wide flanged hat sat on a thick branch of a tree. He threw his back loosely against the trunk, stretched out one of his legs and hung down the other one. He chewed on a toothpick and observed the home of Yrsa and Cog from a safe distance. The shady man caught his red eyes on the lying creature and sighed a little bit annoyed. He took the toothpick out of his mouth and with quick movements picked up a comms device then started to dial:

- Kzzzt-Kzzt - Crackled the device, then someone picked it up. The caller didn’t wait for them to answer his call. He started to talk first:

- Fiiinally! - He said with mock in his voice.

- B... - Kkkzzzt - Bane! Is that you? The transmission is very bad!

- Yesss. You sent me off the map, don' be surprised... I’ve been tryin' to reach ya' for two days, it won’ be free for you, ya’ know…

- Sure, sure! The money isn’t a problem! We’ll pay you for the extra time!

- Obviously.

- Uh… What’s the status of the target? Did you find the corpse at the wreckage?

- Last time I checked, that so called corpse was very much alive… - He said with a ton of sarcasm in his voice and looked at the snuggled up girl and beast. His eyes locked on Yrsa, who huddled to the back of the animal. He pondered about her for a split second. Then Bane heard in the comms a cacophony of people:

- What? She isn’t dead?? How? Did you hear that Deng? Come here! Yes, yes I said that! - A third man joined the call and they started to discuss with each other.

Bane sighed deeply and buried his face in the palm of his hand. The people continued the idle chit-chat:

- ...Whaaaat? Alive? Yes yes, the bounty hunter said that! It’s great! Tell it to Reeda too! Reeda! Reedaaa! Come here to the dashboard!

- ENOUGH!! - Bane thundered and they all fell silent on the other side of the line. Then someone finally dared to speak:

- Umm, we are here, we are here!

- Dead or alive? - He asked, cold and fast.

- Oh, bring her to us, then we can ask her about her father, and… - Bane didn't wait for him to finish the sentence.

- I’ll triple my rate then, we’ll talk later!

- Wait, Bane!

* He disconnected from the call quickly *

- Idiotsss. - He said scornfully and put the toothpick into his mouth again. Bane took out a holo device and started to check some important data on it. It was a very useful hunting tool that contained significant scientific informations.

- Lemme’ see, lemme’ see… - The gadget showed holograms of various animals. He switched between them.

- Oh... That’s it! - The device stopped at a picture of a creature like Cog. Bane smirked wickedly.

- Well, well, well… Let’s see how to take down an acklay… This’ll be interesssting...

The forest was still under the cover of darkness. The early morning mist began to form. It was overall silent, only a faint melody broke it softly. The tune was like a low vibration of a cello. The source of the sound was Bane. The sinister bounty hunter walked at a slow pace in the woods. His long coat swished after his footsteps and he hummed an old cantina song in his raspy voice. His breath was visible in the cool dawn air. He carried an unusual metal box under his left arm. The hunter looked around and stopped, then crouched down and placed the box at the trunk of an old, gnarled tree.The following text was on the side of the box: “E.L.D. - Electrical Luring Device”. Bane opened a small door on the side of the box with a click, under which was a dial and a screen. The green light of the display illuminated his morose face slightly. He typed some numbers on the dial and picked up a remote control. The bounty hunter checked some settings on them. After he completed the procedure, the box began to buzz softly.

- Great, it'll be close enough. All set for the show… - There was a sly smile on his face. Bane got up and disappeared into the fog, leaving the metal box behind. The bounty hunter’s raspy, humming voice melted into the cold air.

Next episode ➔

Footnotes: - Thank you so much for the reading! ♥ This is my first ever fanfiction. I haven't dared to share something like this here until now. - This shipwreck concept art was made by Sergey Vasnev, all credits belongs to him. - The Bane gif was made by @cadbanee and came from here. - Everything else is my illustration. :) - Cog's appearance was inspired by the first concept arts of the acklays.

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sinisterexaggerator · 2 years

Text

Stars Above! | Cad Bane

Chapter 12

Explicit: Slow Burn, Gratuitous Smut, Porn with Plot, Canon-Typical Violence, Mildly Dubious Consent, Angst, Tatooine Slave Culture

This chapter: Blood, gore, death, physical injury.

Notes: To me, Jabba has more than one or two Rancors. This is not Muchi, and this is not Pateesa. This may very well be the mother of Pateesa because I say so ;D (the Rancor Luke Skywalker eventually kills).

Word count: 4.3k

[ Ao3 ] - [ Masterpost ]

《 Previous Chapter || Next chapter 》

“If I had known you planned to kill him, I wouldn’t have brought him here,” Boba Fett stated openly before his audience with Jabba upon his throne.

“Boba… Jee oidn't. Made pej oecision oefying jeesh.”

Boba Fett was Jabba’s favorite - it was a well-known fact – the young hunter assumed he might be able to use this to his advantage at the present juncture. Though it was true he did not care about, or even like his former mentor, still, he was a skilled and adept hunter who didn’t deserve to go down like that. To be tricked, electrocuted, made to be food for a hungry rancor - it didn’t sit well; he thought Brainee should be ashamed, though perhaps a fitting end. It might also be said Boba had the idea to one day take Bane out himself - to prove once and for all he was the fastest gun – to break the draw. The honor should be his.

“He defied you out of loyalty to his client, and what Brainee did was reprehensible."

Brainee came forward then, one finger extended in a show of contempt and malice. He thought it only fair after what he had been exposed to: a weapon against his head. “Bane threatened me. He pulled his blaster on me! He said he was going to come back for me if I lied to him! I am sure he would have killed me if it suited him.”

“Perhaps, but face-to-face, and maybe just don’t lie,” he offered with a hidden smirk beneath his viewplate.

“So, that’s an excuse? Let me just … wait around to be murdered “nobly” by one of the least moral bounty hunters of our time. You speak of loyalty. He is loyal when it’s to his benefit. Bane is better off dead.”

Brainee had a point; it shut him up. Boba returned his gaze to Jabba through his helmet’s visor. “Do not release the rancor. Maybe I can talk some sense into him.”

“Toooh alay, Boba. Chuga.”

“It is not too late unless you say it is, Jabba. - Hungry? Cad Bane will hardly be a meal.”

“Stang something else shash eat.”

“And if I do, you will release him?”

“Jee widd think ooout lo.”

“I suppose that’s better than nothing. Fine. It shall be done.” Boba left the palace in a flurry, off to find some other type of quarry. An animal, perhaps a bantha or a massif, something, anything, that would satiate the rancor’s appetite along with Jabba’s. That might be the only way to spare the hunter’s life, despite the Hutt only saying he would “think about it.”

Brainee sneered, his expression sullied with his bitterness, though deep down he was worried for himself. If Bane escaped unscathed, his own life would be forfeit, yet he would bet all his credits on Jabba’s pet.

“Better hurry, Fett. He won’t last long down there,” he japed.

---

Cad Bane had passed out for some ten minutes, not realizing where he was until he noted his limbs were still entangled in the lithesome net. His appendages were bound; his hat had fallen off; he coughed. He tasted the distinctive flavor of his blood.

The Duros wormed his hand down, fingers inching toward his leather boots. He bypassed beneath the edge, burrowing the tips until he grasped what he was looking for - the tool that would set him free.

He actuated the humming blade, slicing through the netting, the vibroknife easily shearing the thin strips apart to release his body from its captivity. Every movement stung; he was forced to bend to cut his feet loose. He coughed again, wiping his mouth off on the back of his gloved hand.

Sure enough, there was a streak of emerald green. He took a haggard breath, rising to his full stature, then grasping at his chest. He raised his voice, bellowing to the crime lord above, knowing the Hutt could hear him speak, or hear him scream, depending, for the rancor had not yet been freed and Cad was dreading it.

“Jabba! Let me outta dhis damn pit! Might jus’ spare yer life if ye act quick.”

Not the best choice of words, though Cad’s temper could not be pacified once it had been set aflame, but the bounty hunter was in no position to make empty threats.

His verbalized ill intent only seemed to tick the slimeball off, as the gears began to turn on the gate that housed the beast, the Duros grimacing with nearly every inhalation of stale oxygen. It smelled down here.

“Fek,” Cad mumbled to himself, listening to the telltale clinks and grinding of the metal as he backed a pace away, staring at empty space.

Bane knew that she was there, he could sense her; he could feel the creature’s presence, and there was a shadow looming just beyond the darkened threshold of the cage’s maw.

A deafening roar filled the chamber, though Bane’s ear canals were shielded by his skullcap, a towering hulk of muscle and reptilian flesh stepping forward at a pace that was almost leisurely.

Cad studied his adversary, swooping down to scoop his hat up and holster his fallen blaster. He placed the bolero atop his crown, ignoring his own pain for now as he fully faced the monster who slowly bore down upon him. He gave a final warning, hoping that the Hutt might rein her in.

“Unless ye want me te kill dhis thing, ye betta’ wise up, Hutt.”

He was met with no response but a thick, gruff laughter, Bane’s elliptic eyes narrowing into slits. He dug into a pouch he kept attached to his gun belt and retrieved a thermal detonator, impressing a finger upon its trigger.

He tossed it at the rancor but his attempt was thwarted. The creature knocked it back with a sudden extension of its lengthy arm.

“Sspast,” was all he had time to say, dodging and rolling, just as the trill of the small explosive increased, signifying the device was about to splinter. Cad ignited his Mitrinomon thrusters with a quick push of a button on the underside of his forearm gauntlet to travel airborne in reverse.

He tipped his hat down low midflight over his sensitive eyesight, protecting it as the baradium compound became unstable within the tiny sphere, washing the rancor’s dining room in a deadly glow.

The explosion made the rancor even angrier as Bane was thrown against the rock wall just behind him, his hearing ringing in his ears, the white-hot flash of luminescence overtaking half the den’s expanse. He shut his eyes tight beneath his hat, feeling the pain shoot up his spine and back. He cursed himself, thinking this day had gone to kark from the very start.

The creature, though disoriented, ran forward toward him. She swiped at the Duros who had to duck. He activated one gauntlet’s flamethrower, scaring the salivating mess enough to make her ambulate backward on her stubby legs.

“Piss off!!” Cad growled grouchily at the flat-faced being, his own fangs bared, though once the flames died down she returned to her attack.

Bane maneuvered sporadically, gripping cold stone to support himself; the beast retreated with another burst of fire encountering her gaping, tooth-filled mouth.

It gave the hunter sufficient time to recuperate and to gain his footing. He curled his fingers and flicked his wrist, encapsulating one of the monster’s armored arms with his conductive whipcord launcher. Its skin was tough like leather, and perhaps blaster resistance, but a friendly jolt might quiet her enough to sit down and shut up, or so the Duros hoped.

Cad was wheezing as he turned the dial to his contact stunners; it reached max threshold, a bolt of electric blue riding the length of the cable in a zigzag pattern. It found its mark, the rancor giving a choked cry of desperation before it became a kind of pathetic whimper, the animal thrashing against the makeshift leash that encased her limb.

“Don’ like dhat, do ye, ye sow?!” the Duros sizzed, digging his soles into the ground to retain his traction, the creature flailing its head to the left and right.

Bane held his arm steady, activating the sinewy tissue in his biceps. He was lean, gangly, but he wasn’t weak, though the oversized monstrosity began to shortened the distance between them. She tugged on the wire that restricted her; Cad administered another shock.

He was tired, in pain, and bleeding internally, though he kept his cool intact. It took every bit of his remaining strength not to let the rancor win.

Bane shouted out to the audience above; the hunter was leaning toward the cusp of going feral. He had a bone to pick, and he’d wind up gnawing on it before the night was done. “Hutt! S’over. Gonna burn dhis thing te a crisp unless ye-”

“Bane.” He heard Fett call his name, the Duros’ attention diverting momentarily. He caught sight of Boba with a rope loosely held within one hand, the other end drawn taut around a Dewback’s thick, beefy neck. He had come in through the service entrance. Caretakers most likely utilized this path in order to feed and maintain Jabba’s prized possession, though this bit of negligence gave the larger reptile an in to nearly end Cad Bane.

The whipcord tightened; it tensed; it became inflexible. The rancor drew Bane in, giving him seconds to react. His body was jerked forward, upward, one massive claw rising to strike. Cad slammed his palm against the quick release built into his gadgetry, the line connecting him to the rancor severed, and just in time.

However, the beast’s arms were elongated; they stretched to lengths beyond a standard reach to capture prey. Cad reactivated the thrusters on his boots in order to try and zip away.

He put just enough space between them to avoid the full brunt of her deadly swing; he felt the sting. The rancor’s nails stripped a layer of Bane’s armor clean through to his scales. The Nashtah-hide tunic was ripped to shreds, his chest exposed, grazed by the animal’s filthy talons as the force of the slap pushed him into jagged rock.

Bane rebounded involuntarily; he crumbled onto his knees, the contraption on his arm short-circuiting – it shot sparks. This was it. He couldn’t take another blow. It was Boba’s fault. He had distracted him, though the boy now spoke a word: the rancor’s name.

“Seuffa. Here, girl. Look here.”

Bane turned his neck, slowly, as he gasped for breath, his apparatus whirring as it compensated, releasing extra oxygen from the canister that resided along his back, though now it leaked as it had cracked at the force of his most recent impact. He watched, stunned, as Boba led the rancor off, coaxing it to follow in the opposite direction from where the Duros struggled to stand on his own two legs; he seemed to be a natural.

Cad heard the crunch of bones - the wailing of the Dewback - the smaller cold-blood’s death rattle. He tried to walk, though he stumbled from side-to-side like a drunken man who had more than his fair share of ale, his broad fingers splayed across his burning lungs.

When Fett returned, he paused to study him. He realized Bane was worse off than he had first observed; he needed help, or a bacta pod, which Boba was well aware of the fact he had one on his ship if he could only convince him to take his assistance.

“Bane, this way. Let us go through the tunnels.”

Cad had a second wind; his brow ridge narrowed in malevolence. He hissed in hatred at Boba Fett, his cuspids revealed to the sockets that lined his gums. He nearly spat his words. “Don’ need yer help, and Ah’m goin’ out de way Ah came!”

Bane withdrew both LL-30’s, pulling one trigger after the other as he aimed up high, forging a man-sized hole in the metal grate that barred him from Jabba’s antechamber. He heard sounds of shock; screams; the shuffling of feet. He slammed his hand down haphazardly upon an array of buttons until he forced his boots to fire. He went skyward with Boba right behind him.

The other hunter had launched himself with the jetpack housed across his shoulders, meaning to stop Cad’s vindictive revenge in its tracks, but before he could ascend and manage to halt the Duros’ instinctual inclinations, he had already lain Brainee out, the Siniteen stewing in a pool of his own viscera and blood – he was riddled with more than twenty shots; burns and scorch marks.

“Bane,” Boba enunciated sternly, though Cad had whisked around; he ignored him, storming forward to mount the dais where Jabba resided. He sucked in all his pain, his anguish, skirting the Hutt’s tail and implanting the barrel of his Persuader against the slug creature’s wide cranium.

The crime lord howled as no one in the room knew what to do. Even Bib Fortuna cowered, having rightfully kept his mouth shut since the start; he was the Hutt’s righthand man, though he wasn’t stupid.

The only other figure who bothered to step forward was the silhouette of a woman; she was tall and thin, rivaling Bane’s own wiry physique. She crossed her arms; she leaned into her hip, a look of curious incredulity spanning her ghoulish face.

Aurra Sing waited patiently, drumming her long fingers across her naked elbow. Her jumper had no sleeves with which to impede her skills, though her weapons, her rifle remained slung across her back. She would ascertain her own role in all of this once Fett said his piece.

She had arrived late to the scene; she had not been here to see Bane fall into the rancor’s den - where Fett was, Aurra was not far behind, as well as the rest of the Krayt’s Claw syndicate.

This situation was new to her, but there had to be a reason for it. She respected Cad, they had worked many jobs together. He was not one to give himself over to emotions without an explanation or a justifiable rationale.

“Stay outta dhis, Fett,” Bane seethed, his eyes molten like the lava of Mustafar. His gaze wandered briefly to his former colleague, a hunter who had also taken Boba beneath her wing. They were not on the best of terms, though it could not be said they hated one another, yet he stood his ground, unsure if Aurra planned to hinder him.

When no one moved a muscle he got close enough to smell him, tasting the putrid flavor of the Hutt upon his lips. His disgusting scent permeated; it traveled, encompassing his olfactory organs. Bane would have retched his guts out if he weren’t so consumed with cutting fury.

“Cad Bane let'z make oeal. Let jeesh boll an jee widd give uba 100,000 credits an jee-jee seel norget beet evah happened.”

“He wants to make a deal, Cad,” Boba translated hurriedly, hoping the lure of credits would appease the hunter and call to his base needs - his love of money. “He says he will give you one hundred thousand credits if you let him go and he will forget this ever happened.”

“Warned ye! Gonna hafta do better n’dhat,” Bane’s canines clicked as he felt like biting him; he would not be satisfied until he mocked and ridiculed the worm who called himself a Daimyo. “Wanna know why Ah’m here? Ah’ll tell ye, scuzzball.”

Bane pressed the barrel further inward even as his other hand gripped at his ribs. He was depleted; the ache in his bones was catching up to him. If he wasn’t careful, someone would most assuredly take advantage of his weakness. It would be in his best interest to take the credits and leave while the going was still good, but not before he satiated his bitter indignation.

‘’Ere ‘cause yer weak! Don’ even know when ye got smugglers runnin’ weapons under yer nose. Seperatists still kickin; Tour’s payin’ me te flush ‘em out. Look at’cha; missin’ out on all dhat tribute.”

Jabba squelched a sound of outage with Bane’s LL-30 still so close to his massive head, his tiny arms waving in lividness as he fought back many hostile words. though there was something there; something he could use; he would tempt the hunter with an even bigger reward to right his agitation.

“Stang these smugglers shu an jee widd oouble haku Tour Aryan paying uba!”

“He says bring the smugglers to him, and he will double what the governess is paying you,” Boba relayed quickly.

It was tempting, but Bane knew better. He had already said too much; he had spoken the nature of his task, but his temper had been such that he was unable to control himself.

“Ain’t sellin’ out,” he stated tersely. It was more matter-of-fact than charged with heavy feelings. The Duros was calming down; he did not want to be a failure in the eyes of his clientele. The Empire was a steady source of income this day and age.

“’Ere’s de deal: Ye stay out m’business. Ye give me one hundred thousand creds’ naht te kill ye. Ye let me walk. Don’t exspect te be seein’ me no more.”

“Agreed, Murishani.” Jabba answered without thinking.

“Double-cross me, ye die. Ah’ll find a way te do ye in if it’s de last thing Ah ever accomplish in dhis God’s fersaken galaxy.”

Bane relinquished; he dropped his blaster though he kept a wary eye on everyone around him. He stumbled off the platform, droplets of dark jade leaving a trail with every step he took.

He passed Aurra; he tipped his hat to her before laggardly trudging onward. He paused at the entrance of the palace, his fingers clamping down upon the edge of the last partition that separated him from the outside world.

He barely reached the darkened corridor that would lead him beyond Jabba’s residence as he kept one hand upon his weapon’s holster; it was a warning to the others, anyone who would try to fool with him in this condition. Injured animals in the wild would fight to the very last.

Boba watched him go as he propelled himself with a push from off the wall and around the corner. He would follow, but not before Jabba had given him a new set of orders. The clone glanced to Aurra as the Daimyo spoke, knowing that he would need her help on this; also Bossk and Dengar’s.

“Nind beet ulwan, an stang hoohat jeesh. Jee widd doo hoohat before Tour Aryan.”

“Yes, Jabba.” His new job was to bring the gunrunners to the Hutt before Cad could track them down, yielding them to Tour Aryan. It was a game of chance – let the best hunter win out in the end.

Boba nodded once - a brief show of supplication to his employer before briskly turning to supervene behind the Duros - Aurra made to join him, but he held one hand aloft.

“Wait here for now,” he commanded with placid authority. She obeyed, though scowling, having little in the way of patience. If he had been any other man …

---

Outside in the dark, Cad Bane fiddled with his comlink, the set of switches that would signal the Justifier to his whereabouts. He received nothing but static from the other end as the device scintillated; miniscule sparks and wayward bolts of electricity nearly electrified his fingers. His face contorted in a show of unamused annoyance as he called his droid, “Todo, come in. Need a pick-up.”

He smacked his gauntlet; it only injured him. He growled out loud; he was frustrated beyond belief as he took a rasping breath. Bane realized he would have to walk it back. He had no way to contact his good-for-nothing robot, no way to summon his ship to him. A weaker man would have sat down in the sand.

It would be ironic to survive all this only to die out in the desert.

Bane put one foot forward and began the long trek into town where his ship was docked at the spaceport in Mos Eisley. Every part of him was suffering; his body, his mind; his psyche. He dipped his head to look at his open wound; the blood would most likely alert a predator. He was thankful he at least still had his blasters, though it was only a small consolation as he could hardly move.

“Bane,” a voice rather softly behind him said. He felt a hand rest atop his shoulder. The Duros jumped; he whirled around, his own hand coming to swipe at Boba’s as he skittered back. He thought to shoot him, blue digits itching at the grip of one seated pistol.

“Keep yer hands off me,” he spat.

“Bane, what are you doing? You'll never make it,” he said with a stern, yet careful calmness.

“Why d'ye care. Yer de one who brought me ‘ere!” Cad retorted, eyes flaring as his temper began to rise once more.

“I had no idea things would turn out so badly. I didn’t think-”

“Nah, ye didn’ think, did ye?” Bane turned again, marching onward, though sluggish; he was slow.

“You need help,” Boba did not relent; he kept on following him, matching his speed to walk along beside the irate grump.

“Don’ want it! Dhat’s what’s wrong with ye. Told ye dhat. Too compassionate.”

Bane ignored him otherwise, physically pretending he wasn’t there right at his side. Cad refused to look at him, instead facing the sprawling dunes he would have to conquer in order to get back to his ship alive.

“Would you have me work for the Empire then? To be like you?”

“A job’s a job, but maybe so. Need a lil’ backbone.” Bane took a breath that rattled, nearly dropping to one knee. He righted himself before he could fall, however unsteadily.

��Bane, you’re going to die out here if you try to walk all the way back to Mos Eisley, if you care.”

“Dhen so be it,” the Duros responded flatly.

Boba stopped in his footsteps. He let him meander another pace or two away. He removed his blaster; he aimed it at his former mentor and took his shot – it was set for stun - Fett only shook his head.

“Stubborn old fool. Your pride will be the death of you.”

---

Boba made the effort to drag Cad back to an awaiting land speeder. It was Brainee’s, but he would not be needing it again. He situated him in the best possible position: stretched out so as not to cause him any more undue pain.

Fett had no idea why he was even doing this; the Duros didn’t want his help. Should he find him aboard his ship alongside Todo, who knew what he would do. There might even be another duel.

Ultimately, he might have felt a small amount of guilt. He had once admired him, then he had tried to take his life. Disagreements happened all the time; he had learned to watch his back. Even Aurra had come crawling when he least expected it. Still, he had been the one to betray Bane; he had wanted off the job, and was willing to protect those people. If he had stuck it out, maybe there would have been another way for him to get his way.

Yet despite his crookedness, Boba could not leave him there alone in the harsh climate of the planet Tatooine – not in his condition - it was an unforgiving place. Besides, he would be eaten by a massif, or some other carnivorous creature like a sandswimmer, perhaps. In this state he was a sitting mynock.

It was the thoughts of those times he fed him, put him to bed, or let him cry to him that solidified Fett’s resolve; the times they had spent together with his father, Jango.

Maybe Bane was right: he was too soft. However, he supposed the man might thank him one day if their paths ever crossed again.

Instead of going directly to the port where he knew the Justifier remained unattended except most likely by his droid, Boba did what he thought was best; he needed someone to monitor and care for him, and it could not be him.

Bane would not stand for that. It was ridiculous; ludicrous to even entertain it, though this woman he had taken a fancy to seemed like she might be the type to attend to his needs and wounds.

Fett left the speeder running as he approached her simple dwelling. Bane was still knocked out cold, thankfully unconscious, as he would have surely protested. He had not noticed that his own armor was coated with a thin sheen of sticky green.

He rapped three times and waited, glancing back to note the Duros’ breath was shallow. He needed bacta.

He had forgotten his appearance; his helmet was still on. The girl answered and mildly gasped. She appeared frightened, her fingers gently grasping at the edge of her hut’s doorframe as she studied him; her eyes were two different colored jewels that sparkled in the night.

Fett cleared his throat; she was in nothing but a nightgown. Her raven hair was down and framed her face of a lovely shade of purple, or maybe pink. It was unique. He fumbled for his words, deciding to remove his beskar headgear first, his handsome face revealed along with dark locks of chocolate brown.

“Who-who are you?” she meekly stuttered. “What do you want? It’s late. Perhaps you have the wrong address.” She moved to press the button that would close the door; Boba stuck his boot out and halted her.

“Come with me.”

Her lower lip quivered; perhaps she thought she was being kidnapped, or forced into coercion by this strange person who expressed his necessity of her.

“I’m not going anywhere with you. I don’t know w-”

“It’s Bane. He needs help.” Fett moved to the side, giving her a clear view of the vehicle that resided close behind him. He took this time to observe her - the golden slave collar at her throat – she was beautiful. Boba could see why the Duros favored her.

The girl’s expression changed; her eyebrows furrowed inward in a state of pure alarm as she caught sight of Cad in the backseat of the land speeder. She moved to rush beyond him; her hand reached out; he blocked her path using his right arm as a barrier to access. “Get dressed first, and hurry.”

She reluctantly stayed silent, tears forming in her eyes, then turned around to obey his hushed command.

---

Masterlist

Sorry for the long wait.

Note about Aurra and Boba’s relationship

#Cad Bane #Cad Bane x OC #Cad bane x Original female characters #Stars Above #Star Wars Smut #Star Wars Fanfiction #Boba Fett #Aurra Sing #Jabba the Hutt #Tatooine #Clone Wars #Bad Batch #Book of Boba Fett #Bounty Hunters #My writing

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sinisterexaggerator · 2 years

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I made a picrew of Zulara Anu Trattu from Stars Above!, my original character who is paired with Cad Bane. She is half Twi’lek / half human, and her father was a native of Lothal.

^^ Ao3 link

---

Click here to read on tumblr!

#Cad Bane #Cad Bane x OC #Cad Bane x Original Female Characters #Star Wars #Star Wars Smut

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sinisterexaggerator · 7 months

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Beauty and the Bounty Hunter

Chapter 5: Hungry and Hot to Trot

(Cad Bane x Fem! Reader/OC)

*This is a second person POV (reader) fic / OC fic. It's both. I forgo physical descriptions as much as possible, though yes, you/she has a name, and a personality.

This chapter: Our dear reader wakes up hungry, but Todo doesn't know what to do! Cad Bane has left you stranded on his ship, and with a lack of any food. But it's for your own good; he's gone to find the man that kidnapped you.

Warnings: 18+ for dirty humor, nudity, mention of female anatomy, death, murder, gunfights, dismemberment, reference to fertile cycles and alien biology aka horny old man Bane headcanon, and one sassy droid.

Word count: 7.6k

Notes: I could have kept writing as I have so much ground to cover, and it has been nearly a year since I've updated. SORRY ABOUT THAT. Life got a bit in the way. I hope you enjoy this chapter, however, and I plan to keep this series going until the end, no matter how long it takes.

BATBH: Masterpost

Ao3

THIS IS A CRACK FIC! Or, as I like to call it: Slapstick Smut.

You are Aurora Ordel and you awoke with a start; you were faced with a face you could not see clearly. You screamed pure, unadulterated murder, then you were promptly gassed; you passed back out again.

“Ah, shit-”

Cad Bane palmed his face. He had acted on impulse; he had released a cloud capable of putting you to sleep; there was a hidden valve residing beneath his wrist gauntlet.

That had not been his intention, though he did not mind that you were quiet, however considering the circumstances he found himself wanting to know if he should have kept those sleemo’s breathing – torture, after all, was not outside his wheelhouse, and intel in this case was priceless.

“Mister Bane, maybe I should be in charge of the prisoner-”

“She ain’t a priss’ner!”

“Sorry. Force of habit.”

“Be out a’couple hours now. Exspectin’ Ah be back b’fore dhen,”

“You are leaving?”

The Duros had paused to lean in close; he could still smell those blasted hooligans all over your damn clothes. A rumble was emitted, the sound tantamount to a displeased grumble; Bane proceeded to rub his rostrum across your neck, chest, and the remnants of your dress.

He had taken to marking you, wanting to replace that putrid stench with his own fragrance without so much as an explanation.

Todo watched on idle, blinking his yellow eyes. All of this was beyond interesting, Bane’s behavioral response absorbed by his many microprocessors.

Cad cleared his throat; he pushed up off you, leaving you to lie there. His brow ridge stitched before he addressed the small metal man off to his left.

“Gonna find dhis Green Hair. Somethin’ don’t add up,” the hunter commented.

“Whatever do you mean? They just seemed like a gang of thugs to me,” Todo followed up.

“She’s too high-profile; jerks like dhat don’t go fer Imps widdout plannin’ on a high payout,” Bane enunciated dryly.

“You mean you think he was coerced to kidnap her, or perhaps even hired?”

Todo looked up as his master checked his gas carts; a quick once over of his gear was common. Even in the middle of a mission, Bane would habitually assess his ammunition, or lack thereof; being put in a tough spot was not something he was fond of.

“Yep,” he affirmed, turning to walk out the door.

“Wait! But Bane, what if-”

“Keep an eye on ‘er!” he interrupted. “Don’t let ‘er out of yer sight,” the Duros finalized, “or it’ll be yer metallic hide.”

Todo groaned; it was a sound usually reserved for humans and other beings. Still, it expressed his feelings, as he was not sure what to do should you wake up.

“This job is among the weirdest yet,” he complained.

Then, he did all he could do; he sat down and stayed watch, ever vigilant.

---

Two standard hours had ticked on by; you heard a few mumbled words as you once more opened up your eyes. This time, you were faced with a droid. You gasped as you scrounged for purchase.

You backed up far enough that you met with the closest wall. Unfortunately, there was nowhere left for you to go. You cursed, wondering what else you had gotten yourself into.

“There is no need to be afraid, we have already met,” Todo articulated, “but just in case: I am Todo 360, techno-service droid, and accomplice to Cad Bane.”

If nothing else, you recognized his voice; your glasses were long-gone. Your vision was blurred at best, though it was difficult to see past his gigantic head.

“Where am I?” you asked, your nails digging diligently into surprisingly soft bedsheets.

“You are aboard the Justifier, and this is where you will remain. Mister Bane has ordered that you stay put until he comes bac-”

You squealed; your voice was shrill. “You mean he’s not here?!”

The frazzled droid zipped a pace away, clearing himself of your immature display. You had begun to shake, or vibrate, trembling of all things.

“Where is he?” you asked desperately.

“He is away,” he replied simply.

“But what if they come back!” you whined, disconcerted.

“Rest assured, you are perfectly secure,” said the twitchy service droid. “There is no safer place for you than on Bane’s ship.”

You looked around, though you could barely make out your surroundings. “Are-are you sure?” you asked more quietly.

Todo chirped, irritated. “Yes, I am sure. Now, just sit still and wait patiently. I am positive Bane will be back any— Excuse me! Where are you going?” he demanded of you as you had risen to your feet.

“I feel faint,” you admitted, not seeming to remember that you hadn’t eaten in nearly three whole days; your stomach had begun to gnaw at you, craving food.

“Then why are you standing?” Todo argued, tugging at the edge of your torn and sullied dress.

“You have something, don’t you?” you inquired weakly as you stumbled across the room.

Todo sighed a human-sounding sigh, releasing his slight grip. He had to think about it. “I do not believe you will be interested in what Bane has to eat,” he explained succinctly.

“I don’t care, anything—” you managed, walking out into the hall. You were faced with a row of doors. You were not sure which to try, so you went by one at a time.

“Ah, ah, ah!” Todo scolded you as you entered what looked like a workshop of some kind; it contained within a mixed assortment of odds and ends. You wondered how he had acquired all of this. If you squinted, you could just make out what looked like clone trooper helmets; among those you thought was a Jedi’s lightsaber.

You opened your mouth to speak; Todo was not having it. “This way, please,” he said, chaperoning you like he might a helpless child.

You weaved to another entry of some sort, this one with locked tight doors. Todo was quick to apprehend you; his weensy body became a barrier. He pushed against your thighs with his tiny hands; they were cold, and the droid was adamant. “No, no! Definitely not in here. This is Bane’s private quarters! He would have both our heads.”

You huffed, exasperated. “Just take me to the kitchen!” Even so, you could not deny you wanted to know what was just on the other side…

“We do not have a kitchen-” Todo corrected you, “-we have a galley, and I am trying!”

“Whatever! Food is food!” you rationalized.

“Yes, so I have heard,” Bane’s droid tittered wryly. “Mister Bane also shares those sentiments, as you will find.”

“Well, good!” you answered in a mood. You would not concern yourself with reading between the lines. Hells, you would take a ration bar; anything was fine!

You continued on your bumbling misadventure; Todo directed you toward an abnormally large lift; you wondered what Bane carried in it. Once inside, you thought that you could smell yourself. Luckily for your inorganic tour guide, he could not tell the difference.

“Oh my God—” you began, hoisting up your arm to take a whiff. Todo shifted, gazing up at you, emotionless.

“What is it now?” he queried.

“I smell awful!” you admitted.

“That must be why Mister Bane rubbed himself all over you,” Todo conjectured.

“He what?!”

“Truly fascinating, Duros. Although, you ought to know,” the droid complained with attitude.

You gawked at him, not believing you were being sassed by Cad Bane’s companion. Was he angry? Jealous? Protective of his master?

“I’m sorry?”

“You should be!” he explained. “He has been behaving quite differently with you around.”

The door to the lift flew open; Todo hovered out and onward. You had no choice but to follow him.

“How is that my fault?” you dared to ask.

“Well, it is, and it isn’t, you see,” Todo knew there was more to it than that.

You glanced about, finding yourself to be in the bowels of the ship. This was a part of the Justifier you had not seen previously. Not even on the day Cad Bane had dragged you in, keen on being mean, but it had backfired – you were still here.

This area seemed mostly unused, or like a storage space. Every corner was home to an oversized cargo crate. They were quite possibly chock-full of weapons, supplies. Then, on the other hand, there could be ration bars. Your thoughts drifted as did your feet; you were once more cutoff by Cad Bane’s little confidant.

“This way, this way! Do not go snooping. That is one surefire way to get Mister Bane to despise you,” Todo spoke from experience; he often wondered how young Boba Fett was doing.

“It seems like he already despises me,” you mumbled, hungrily marching forward as you finally approached another set of doors; these were double.

“To the contrary,” Todo proffered, causing your eyes to dart in his direction. He ignored the rise in your attention span, passing through into what you had called a “kitchen.”

It was full of pots and pans, plates, bowls, and numerous utensils. Most seemed unused, set to sparkling as Todo was the one who diligently polished them. There were knives, forks, spoons; there was everything but food.

“It’s so clean,” you marveled.

“You may thank me for that,” Todo retorted.

“But what does he even eat?” you whined, traipsing forward, flinging cabinets open and pulling out all the drawers. There was nothing there! Your mind reeled and your stomach growled. That’s when you finally noticed the conservator.

“Meat mostly,” Todo said offhand. “I assumed you knew everything about Mister Bane,” the feisty droid remarked, “though he also consumes what he likes to call ‘roughage.’”

You could only hope that meant salad; you could do with one right now. Or hells, even a steak would be nice, something big and juicy to suffice you. Though, on the other hand, what Todo had said kept nagging. You spouted off a question just as you pulled the door wide open.

“What did you mean ‘to the contrar-’” There was something wrapped in what looked like foil; you made your move, a bold one, to steal the scraps of Bane’s last meal.

“I would not do that!” Todo blurted out.

You pulled the wrapper back; its contents had a face, and worse yet, eyes. The only thing missing was its fur and guts; it was a chunk of flesh, raw, and oozing blood.

“What the fuck!” you exclaimed as you promptly dropped it.

“I did try to warn you,” Todo highlighted, as if he needed to.

You nearly puked, your diaphragm contracting. “That’s disgusting!” you announced.

“Maybe to you-” Todo rebuked “-but Mister Bane quite likes it.”

“Well, Mister Bane is a weirdo!” you retaliated.

“You are one to talk!” the droid rejoined.

Your hand had risen to cover your own mouth, but for what you were not sure; it wasn’t as if you had anything in your stomach to throw up. In doing so, you smelled your armpits. That in and of itself reactivated your gag reflex.

You pouted, stomping down your bare foot. The floors were duralloy and provided full resistance. However, you stepped on something squishy. You protested as you almost slipped and fell, your body nearly crumpling.

“Grossssss!” you lamented, having come into contact with whatever that dead thing was.

“I need a shower! Shower. Shower. Shower! Right now!” you demanded, beginning to scamper off without so much as knowing where you were headed. You were in such a rush you collided with a wall; you started crying at the injustice of it all.

“Oh my, oh dear,” Todo said as he came forward, prowling around you as he balanced on his thrusters. “Yes, that might do you some good. Mister Bane always feels better after a long stint in the shower. But it is back upstairs, I am afraid.”

“Take me there,” you pleaded, a hand cupping your bruised shoulder. Todo complied with your request; soon you were back on the lift.

For once, you were silent. You were tired and oh, so hungry. Your body needed energy; you moved more slowly. Todo noticed your decreased speed; he puttered around you in small circles – doing as he was ordered – yet not having the ability to meet your every need. He could only hope Bane would come back soon, as he was not sure what to do for this human woman.

You found yourself once more near Bane’s quarters, being directed to a small refresher. You nearly collapsed just inside the entrance, trying your best to undress yourself.

“Oh, uh—” Todo began, tapping metal against metal as his fingers joined together, obviously somewhat perplexed or even agitated, “—I’ll just be over here,” he stated, leaving.

You had paid the droid no mind, tugging the shreds of your clothes off that remained. You discarded your bra, then the dress as well – straight into the trash bin. Your panties were MIA, but you would burn in hell before you ever wore those things again. Besides, they smelled like others and not just you; you had put two and two together at Todo’s mention.

In theory, it was endearing. It brought you back to Todo’s comment of “to the contrary.” You hummed a little to yourself as you turned the shower on, relaxing against the wall as real liquid started streaming over you.

“Thank fuck,” you mumbled; at least he had the good stuff, sonic vibrations never did quite cut it as per your preference; he must have had a tank of water on reserve.

You let your body slide down, down, until you sat right in it. It was the most luxurious, blissful thing to happen to you in the last three days. You closed your eyes as you tried to regain your peace, but then a thought occurred to you; you had no more clothes to change into. What were you supposed to do?

For the moment, you tried not to let it worry you; the water felt too good. You breathed out a laggard sigh as you finally opened up your eyes.

You stood; your hunger was once more overpowering; you let the water stream down your face and hair, wanting to just stay there, yet the rumbling in your stomach was not a thing to be ignored. Truth be told, you still felt nauseous, finally calling out to Todo whom you thought was just outside the room.

“Excuse me, little droid? Are you there?”

It took him hardly any time to answer you. “I am afraid so,” he said sourly.

You quirked a brow; his tone abruptly changed. He now seemed eager, his programming dictating he was happiest when serving others in some capacity. “How may I be of assistance?”

You attention had been diverted; you were examining some kind of cleaning substance. It was meant to help slough off dry, dead scales; you would not use it for fear of what might happen to you. Your only hope was for some soap. That, or whatever you could find in terms of clothes; as long as they were clean and somewhat fit, you did not care one bit.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to walk around naked if you can’t find something for me to wear,” you called out to him, your voice being carried beyond the sound of running water and the boundary of the door.

Something sparked in Todo’s droid brain, causing gears to whorl and whirl; he knew just the thing! Something he thought might be more your size, as his master was tall and gangly. “Just a moment! Wait right here,” he insisted.

You heard him buzz off down the hall, then there was total silence. You allowed yourself a nice long soak, taking your time beneath the warm spray of the water. You drank from it to quench your thirst by leaving your mouth wide open; you were sure you were dehydrated. Then, you allowed it to saturate your tangled strands; it ran through all your nooks and crannies.

This would have to do until you could get back to your roost; the penthouse you called your home, seated in the lap of luxury right here on Coruscant. Or at least you thought…

As a matter of fact, you had no idea where you were or where you’d been; you were now trapped here on Cad Bane’s starship. Wherever it happened to be, that is. You had no way of knowing your coordinates, and the refresher had no viewports; it was just as well so people couldn’t spy on you.

You waited for what you felt was much too long; you turned the water off. You attained a towel, though it seemed used. You gingerly rubbed your nose in it; it smelled like Duros.

“Ummmph,” you vocalized, happy, horny, distraught, and needy all at the same time. His scent was heady. You felt you couldn’t think straight, having a wicked and troubling idea tickle your jumbled brain.

“Todo?” you tried for the droid once more; he did not answer. You opened the refresher and tiptoed out, buck naked, into the narrow corridor.

You were relieved to get no response, slinking like a tooka toward Bane’s living quarters; Todo had made it very clear to not go in here, but you only knew one thing, the thing that drove you: inside this room behind the door were Cad Bane’s extra clothes.

It did not take much effort; you pried a panel loose. Even without your glasses, this was elementary; you could rewire an automated entry with your eyes closed – too easy.

Once inside, the door again shut tight; you did not pay it any mind, as your eyes went wide, mesmerized by a plethora of mishmash things, and even trinkets. Everywhere you looked was something pretty, shiny, or otherwise unique; Cad Bane had expensive tastes for a rough and tumble mercenary.

There were unmarked credits on the bed, gold coins of unknown origin, an extra hat – which you picked up and put right on your head – and loads of other fascinating stuff.

His blankets were pristine and plush, his pillows fluffy and silky smooth. Off to one side was a box full of random treasures, one you recognized as Durosian if you squinted; you wondered if he collected artifacts from his species’ culture as a hobby, or just because it was worth something.

You blindly plundered through his drawers; there were stolen bounty fobs and palm-sized holoprojectors with secret messages. There was a datapad or two, and a box of toothpicks. You were tempted to snoop more thoroughly, but after what Todo said… You did not want Cad Bane to have your head; you wanted him in bed.

Finally, you found what you came here for - something belonging to the man that you could wear. You had located what appeared to be a dress shirt with long sleeves; it was white with buttons down the front and hit just above your knees. You at once adorned it, inspecting yourself in a full-length mirror; you wondered if Bane often stood right here when admiring himself; you could not blame him.

You sniffed your prize and nearly melted on the spot. Satisfied, you turned around to exit. The moment your hand touched durasteel a loud noise sent you reeling. You covered up your ears as you had triggered an alarm, a screen descending from the ceiling as a recording of Bane himself played automatically before your bleary eyes.

“Stupid is as stupid does,” the Duros drawled; your breath was heavy as the sirens refused to stop their bleating. You tugged at another access hatch; you began to dislocate and mismatch wires, whining audibly.

“Bane, I’m sorry!”

The recording snickered as if he had heard you through the viewscreen, leaning forward to threaten you with the little piece of wood that perpetually lived between his teeth. “And yer about as stupid as dhey come.”

You found your mouth agape as two more things emerged: loaded blaster rifles, snuggly sequestered on either side of the Duros’ depraved yet smiling face. “Say yer prayers,” he directed.

“Oh, please, oh no. No, no!” you pleaded, bending low to shield yourself. You threw your arms above your head and squatted down till you touched the ground, pulling up a chair to act as a makeshift impediment. Blaster shots rang out, rebounding about the room and all of your surroundings. You screamed as if you were being murdered, because you were, then everything went silent.

You gasped, feeling yourself up; you were all still in one piece, unbelievably. Standing before the now open door was that pesky, life-saving service-droid; within his hands was some kind of drab colored garment.

“What have you done?!” he wailed. “Mister Bane is going to be absolutely furious!” he proclaimed, golden eyes wide in horror and disbelief.

Todo dropped what he was holding, coming around to push against your back. He shoved with all his might, despite you still being on the floor bent down. You tried to come to terms with what just happened, and all due to a shirt; your eyes watered as you let the little robot escort you out.

“And give me that!” he griped, reclaiming the hat upon your head that now suffered a distinctive scorch mark. “Do you have any idea what this cost?!”

“A-a lot?” you asked with a quaver to your voice.

“Yes!” he retorted.

The droid stopped to pick up what had fallen, scooping it up within his arms. He stayed his fury to look at you, tilting his large cranium. “And what is that you are wearing?”

“A shirt I found,” you whispered.

“No, no, you must take that off this instant. I brought you this,” he explained, holding out something worn, brown, and understated. Despite being still terrified and near to tears, you took it to appease him.

“What is it?” you asked sheepishly.

“It is a robe, a Jedi robe, and part of Bane’s collection; he has worn it in the past when needed, and it is a wonderful disguise!”

You gave a little start, looking the thing over. “How did he get it?”

“Surely you know Bane is a Jedi-killer,” Todo quipped, leering at you. “And a most successful one at that. It is his – was – his specialty. They are all dead now, you see.”

“O-oh,” you conceded, then made a face that displayed your distress. “I’m not wearing this!” you contested suddenly.

“And why not?” he fought back, metal hands akimbo on his hips.

“What if I’m mistaken for a Jedi?” you whimpered. “What if someone else tries to kill me?” You dropped the robe, not caring that your – Bane’s shirt - was open. Todo got an eyeful as you retrieved the one thing you could use, a belt that was rather rope-like; you inspected it as Todo gawked, though he didn’t have a mouth.

He made a throaty sound, having seen the outline of your form, the curves and dips, the shape of your bare hips. “Yes, you will do quite nicely,” he commented offhand.

“Excuse me?” you snapped, beginning to button up. You fastened each closure one by one, traveling all the way up to the very top; the belt came next. You soon had fashioned the bounty hunter’s shirt into a dress.

“Well, it seems you are rather good at that! Nearly getting killed, that is, why if it weren’t for Mister Bane—”

“—No, finish that other thought,” you demanded.

Todo sighed for the second or third time, thinking he should have kept his nonexistence lips shut, but it was too late now; he settled down, then began a rather short but interesting tale.

“Duros have a finite reproductive window, and Mister Bane is getting older by the day,” he explained. You cocked a brow but kept on listening. You tried to give him your full attention, but your stomach growled; you needed food right now.

“Walk and talk,” you said.

Todo followed you as you made your way back toward the lift, this time setting course for the location of the boarding ramp; it was at the Justifier’s rear, but you were all ears.

The only thing you didn’t have was your glasses or a pair of shoes; you would make do and go barefoot; you were too hungry to give a damn.

“Well, Mister Bane has been rather grumpy as of late – grumpier than usual – and especially since coming into contact with you,” he remarked.

“I see,” you interjected, yet quite fond of this engrossing notion.

“Therefore, I have come to the conclusion it is best that he mates with you. Once he gets it out of his system, I believe that—”

You burst out laughing; that had already been your plan. “Don’t worry your big head,” you grinned. “Now, wait here.”

Todo looked around, realizing you had dropped the ramp. He had lost track of your destination, instantaneously switching gears as was his very nature, if you could call it that; he was just a culmination of ones and zeros, but it still felt like he had feelings.

“Where do you think you are going? Bane instructed us to both wait here.”

“To the market,” you answered back, having come to the conclusion you were parked somewhere near CoCo Town at a rundown spaceport.

“Come back! You should not disregard what Mister—”

“What’s he going to do, shoot me?” you jested, feeling a teensy bit more like your old self.

“Yes!” he responded, trailing close behind. “Wait! Oh, you—we’re going to be in so much trouble when he gets back!” the droid complained as he endeavored to keep you company.

“Just come with me,” you offered.

Todo bellyached, indignant. “What do you think it is I am doing? He did tell me to keep an eye on you.”

Then, he glared at you. It was rather cute. “I will make sure to tell him I tried to stop you.”

“Mhm, yes, of course,” you simpered, nonplussed, though finding his last confession had warmed your heart; he did care somewhat after all.

---

Cad Bane had assured that you were safe, but at the cost of backtracking, one of his least favorite things. He once more made his way through the Crimson Corridor, headed for the Tusken Oasis as per the Gotal he had killed. He had parked his ship far from this squalid high-crime district, thinking if you stayed aboard the Justifier nothing could go awry - that’s where he was wrong - he had underestimated the power of your stupidity, for however smart you were.

He passed the Green Glowstone Tavern; Bane knew the Bothan bartender who owned the place, yet he would not stop to chat; he had business to attend to, business regarding you.

Still, he tipped his hat; the Bothan waved right back. It was a silent interchange between two men, both busy.

The hunter continued trudging forward; crowds parted for him. Those who scurried he kept an eye on as he traversed the infamous Barsoom Boulevard.

Prostitutes tried flirting with him; a few scoundrels attempted to sell their wares. It was the ones who watched that warranted his attention; they were not clever; the Duros had dealt with all types and kinds of people, and street thugs were no different. He had an inkling that sneaking would be impossible, as these degenerates would most likely run and tell their boss; there was no use hiding –- Cad Bane was on the prowl.

This area of town was the Raptor Gang’s main hideout; he had heard from word of mouth, steadily stalking onward, eyes forward, as he could sense something sinister afoot -- an ambush.

Bane stalled, stopping dead, slowly but surely turning his hat and head. There was an eerie silence the hunter did not trust, fingers loitering above the holster of one LL-30 BlasTech pistol.

“May as well come out, cahn smell ye’ from a klick,” the gunslinger taunted.

Three bodies emerged from behind trash and refuse, big and burly, weapons drawn and at the ready, as if they thought they had anything on him. Bane grinned a sadistic grin. “Let’s make dhis quick.”

Plasma flew as shots were discharged; Cad Bane dodged it all, rolling to take up residence behind the nearest wall. He returned his own deluge of blaster fire; his aim was true. Ignorance had been their downfall; the Duros would persist in his pursuit.

“Better luck next life,” he jeered to the corpses at his feet; he stepped over them, disrespectfully. But there was one person that he did not want to disrespect if he could help it: Yanth the Hutt, owner of the prestigious nightclub for which his course was set. Though there would be no stopping him, even if that meant killing all of Green Hair’s men. Bane would try not to demolish the whole bar, but if he did? So be it.

The Crimson Corridor was empty now due to the pathetic gunmen he had encountered, its residents scared away back into their homes or other dens, places of debauchery and sin. Places Cad Bane rarely frequented except for occasions such as this; he preferred the quiet confines of his ship.

He could hear the music from a hundred yards; a Bith quartet had taken center stage. Lately, they seemed to be all the rage, but Cad Bane could care less; he approached the entrance.

A bouncer tried to guard the way, but the Duros was infamous and greatly feared; it did not take him much convincing. All the hunter did was glare until he took the hint and scrammed, the green Gamorrean deciding he desired to live and fight another day thanks to such little pay.

Bane regarded him as he up and left; he tipped his hat again. He strolled on through, being met with colored lights and statuettes of varying hues and species, some mythological in the form of beasts; the Hutt spared no expense for his well-kept business. It was quite impressive if Bane could be impressed; the only thing that had that affect on him were credits, and you had a lot of them.

There were dejarik boards and tables for sabacc, gambling men and dancing girls. There were women dressed to the nines alongside scum and villainy; all manner of people came here, including those that Cad Bane now searched out.

Twi’leks, Rodians, and Zeltrons batted their lashes at him, trying to distract him if he didn’t know better. He slipped on by, giving a flirtatious squeeze to varying rumps and waists; while he was tempted, everything had a time and place. He left a gaggle of smitten ladies in his wake.

Then, the heat was on. Green Hair sat amongst a slew of bodyguards. There was no doubt that it was him; he was a human male, lean with a wiry build. But he also sported the most ludicrous hairstyle Bane had ever seen; his green hair was kept upright by an electrostatic field.

The Duros suppressed a laugh, coming off as composed and stoic though inside he was dying. It looked like he had stuck his finger in a socket, the man assuming he was the epitome of style; word around these parts was he was nicknamed “Fashion Plate.”

“Kids dhese days,” Bane mulled internally.

As he descended upon their table - each step slow and full of purpose - Green Hair’s men decided to act like the brutes they were, boxing the Duros inside their little circle. It there was one thing Bane did not like, it was being cornered; his hand returned to rest upon one blaster’s holster. One H'nemthe in particular got right in his face; Bane kept his cool, but cockily insulted him.

“Ah’d say ye’ must be plumb weak north of yer ears-” he heckled, “-but it don’t look like ye’ got any.”

Cad Bane sneered; he had to be one of the most hideous sleemo’s he had ever seen. A reptilian-humanoid as was his ilk, but still— at least he didn’t have three fingers or ridges on his face. He figured he had never mated; their women were said to kill them once they did –- this one was a virgin.

“Couldn’ get laid so ye’ took up clownin’, did ye’?” Bane insinuated.

That was all it took; the H'nemthe drew his pistol. Cad Bane laid him out; one shot and he would precede his brethren in death, but only by mere minutes, seconds - others were ready to avenge his name - but their green-haired leader finally said his piece.

“Let’s not be hasty, shall we?”

“Tell dhat to yer men, dipshit.”

The punk in charge smiled cordially, pretending to welcome Bane with open arms. Reluctantly, his hired guns made room for him to pass, wary, and with scowls upon their ugly mugs.

“The notorious Cad Bane,” Green Hair began. “And to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Cut de kark,” the Duros seethed. “Who hired ye’.”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

The man motioned with one arm as an introduction. “We are the Raptor Gang. This is our turf,” he said more firmly. “We work for no one but ourselves.”

“Dhen yer de one who ordered Ordel captured,” Bane growled with a curl of his upper lip.

“Oh, her,” the bottom-feeder said dismissively. “She’s just some Imp who works for the Empire. Why do you care?”

The hunter grit his fangs, remembering the state in which he found you. While it could be said Bane had done much worse, it still was not a good enough excuse.

“Dhat’s my business—” he glowered, “—but Ah’m about t’make it yers.”

Green Hair side-eyed one of the henchmen to his right; the tension was so thick it could be cut clean through with a vibroknife. The very air was pregnant with unease and animosity, the Duros’ fathomless red eyes studying his adversary. His intent was mal, Bane past the point of being patient. The human could sense his unwavering hostility, mentally preparing for if and when he would have to flee the scene.

The man who had received his subtle signal placed himself between Bane and Green Hair, as was his duty. Bane snidely smiled, taking this opportunity to bruise him; hiding behind a lackey was cowardly. “Didn’ realize Green Hair was so yello’-bellied,” the hunter mocked him.

Green Hair ignored his comment, not allowing it to get the best of him. “We were holding her for ransom,” he explained. “But no one came to collect—except for you,” he clarified.

Then, to add insult to injury, the scuzzball kept on talking; he must have thought he was safe and sound behind the blanket of some odd ten men at his disposal.

“The way I see it, you owe me for damages, bounty hunter. You got the girl, but not without destroying one of my properties and killing several of my crew-” Smugly, he took a drink to wet his tongue before he continued. “-a million credits, and I’ll let you walk away. I just know you’re good for it,” he speculated.

Bane laughed; it was dry and lustless. He had a word of his own to say, hand ever at the ready to pull his weapon should the need arise.

Green Hair had frowned at his response, or the lack of one, knowing that his horde was all eyes and ears and judging him for this; to misstep or slip-up during an interaction could be grounds for reevaluation of his leadership.

“Draw,” Bane said with strong contempt.

Green Hair sat up straight; if his mop didn’t already stand on end, it most assuredly would have. He knew who held his audience and the reputation of this dodgy Duros; it did not ease his fears as Cad Bane stood transfixed, and very serious.

“It’s only fair; I was told she was valuable,” he quickly stated, trying to keep the panic from wholly overtaking him.

Cad Bane’s austere red eyes narrowed. “Told by whom,” he barked the question.

The man dared to shrug, “heard it through the grape vine,” he said simply, so far remaining calm and collected with all his wits about him, but not for long.

“Draw,” the gunslinger echoed.

Green Hair stood up on his dais, one level above the plane on which Cad Bane watched, attentive. He had the nerve to brandish his pointer-finger, extending it to put the blame to Bane.

“Now, wait a minute! You don’t give orders around here, I’m the one who—” That finger was blown clean-off, the Raptor’s leader staring on in shock. The wound was already cauterized; the intense heat of the plasma shot had staunched the flow of blood.

“Don’ got de patience fer no lily-livered, nuna-hearted, blackguard, disssrespectful sssleazebag,” Bane rasped harshly.

“Get him!!!” Green Hair screeched shrilly, holding his wounded hand with the one that still had all its digits. Bane was closed back in; multiple blaster bolts flew in his direction. The Duros soared sky-high per the activation of his rocket boots; this in turn caused several to drop down dead; they had gone and done his job for him.

“Too slow,” he hissed.

His taunting caused more blasters to start blazing, Bane zipping and zigzagging as he easily avoided their pathetic excuse for aim. He withdrew his second pistol; this was the end game. Not for him, but for the whole of Green Hair’s men.

Multiple rounds were fired; they were continuous. Bane’s LL-30 BlasTech pistols had been modified to suit his needs; they would never overheat. One man went down, and then another; they were dropping like Bahl flies, straight down onto the ornate carpet.

People screamed; innocents, supposedly, though this place was a rumpus room full of crooks and thieves. They dashed about like nunas with their heads cut off, knocking one another over as they scrambled to get out. Still, they had no need to worry; Bane never missed his target, and currently his sights were set on one particular maggot trying to escape his wrath.

Green Hair ran opposite, toward the back of the establishment. Bane assumed there was a hidden exit, or a tunnel he was privy to. With all his enforcers dead, the gutless sack of bantha dung had high-tailed it -- too bad for him he wasn’t faster than Cad Bane’s lariat.

With the actuation of his wrist gauntlet, he let his whipcord launch. It wound around the slimy bastard's ankles, causing him to trip over his own two feet. Bane landed gracefully; he reeled him in, the nails of Green Hair’s remaining fingers digging into the fancy rug.

It was no use; Cad Bane tugged and hauled him back. His quarry hemmed and hawed as he tried to switch his story.

“I don’t know anything!” Green Hair proclaimed to ears now deaf, hidden beneath Bane’s insulated cap and his overly large hat.

“Liar, liar, pants on fire,” Bane snorted as he used his other arm to shoot a stream of grisly flames; they ignited the perps pants, setting them ablaze.

Green Hair screamed and yelled, twisting and turning, although he was still lassoed. He managed to bat the flames out, panting, swearing, and now met face to face with Bane as he dragged him to square up.

“Who sent ye’ afta’ Ordel,” Bane asked again.

“I don’t know, I don’t—”

Bane prepared for the smell of burning flesh. “Liar, liar, face on—”

“WAIT!” the asshole bellowed, deciding to change his tune to one more favorable. He breathed in and out, trying to settle himself down as two red eyes, bright as starlight, radiated hatred; this bastard’s luck had just run out-- Cad Bane was not merciful.

“Some guy, old guy. Talked with a funny accent.”

“Ah wanna name,” Bane sizzed angrily.

“Don’t have one— he said she was an engineer! Told us to watch the news. Said she’s valuable to the Empire and they would pay hefty credits to get her back! She’s a brainiac!” he explained hurriedly.

“Yer right stupid, ain’cha. Ye’ think de Empire ain’t gonna just storm yer lil’ hideout if dhey want ‘er?”

Bane glared deep into his eyes; he would both see and sense his fear. People who were scared often withheld information without the proper motivation, but the bounty hunter found he could be quite persuasive.

“Ye’ suppose dhey take kindly to extortion?”

The Duros retrieved one holstered pistol, planting it against the side of Green Hair’s spiky head. He bared his fangs; he had no qualms with offing him.

“And she’s ah brainiac yer men used an’ abused,” he hissed. “Dhere ain’t no lady who deserves dhat, not even an Imp,’ he spat.

“Now—” Bane’s words took on a darker tone, “—give me’a name, or Ah’ll assume yer de one t’answer fer all. dhose. sins,” he finished.

Green Hair truly didn’t have one, just a pseudo he had given him, and what he could remember of his unremarkable appearance.

“I dunno, man! He reached out to me; his frequency was encrypted. I shoulda known this shit was a trap!”

Bane shook and rattled him, a threat to do him in. “Now he’s gettin’ it.”

“Said I could call him-- call him Willy,” Green Hair imparted. “Maybe, he—”

“Maybe he jus’ couldn’ do it ‘imself and knew ye’ were an idiot,” Bane filled in the blanks, throwing the so-called leader of the Raptor’s back down upon the ground. If you took the time to put two and two together, it all made sense; it was an inside job, the suggestion made by one of your trusted colleagues.

“Please, don’t kill me,” the white-livered Green Hair begged.

Bane glanced down at him as if he forgot that he was there. About that time they had a visitor. One unhappy Hutt came slipping and sliding down the carpet, Yanth, the owner of the Tusken Oasis nightclub.

“Explain this!” he thundered in Galactic Basic.

Bane knew Yanth was a Vigo, one of nine, and part of Black Sun’s leadership. He was wealthy and held in high esteem. He oversaw the organization’s operations in this sector of the galaxy. He reported directly to the Underlord; it paid off to know your stuff, as Cad Bane did not want to piss him off.

“Dhis one ‘ere started it,” Bane began, yanking Green Hair up again to toss directly into the hands of one of his two men.

“Was gonna haul him in,” the Duros said all calm and casual, glancing at the shed that lined his fingertips.

“Reckon he owes ye’ some money,” Bane finalized.

“I know you,” the Hutt informed him. “You’re a bounty hunter.”

“Cad Bane, at yer service,” the gunslinger rejoined.

“Hey, that’s not—” Green Hair interrupted.

One of Yanth the Hutt’s men backhanded him across the face; he was nearly knocked out cold, blood spewing from his lips. He now hung limply in the arms of a four-limbed Besalisk. Bane grinned as Green Hair groaned; he couldn’t help it.

“Then I suppose I should thank you for getting the situation under control before it got out of hand,” the slimy Hutt-lord said.

“Tweren’t nothin’,” Bane said with a tip of his wide hat. “Consider it a gift,” he proffered, pulling out a toothpick from the inside pocket of his jacket. “So’ry ‘bout de bodies,” he added, placing his wooden chew toy in his mouth; the Hutt finally took one long glance around.

“I’ve seen worse,” he commented.

“Ah’m sure ye’ have,” Bane quipped offhand. Then, he produced a copy of his calling card; he offered it to Yanth as a way to keep the peace between them.

“If ye’ ever find yerself needin’ a bounty hunta’, give me a buzz,” Bane stated, twirling on his heel for his coat to swirl; he loved making a grand exit; he was known for his showmanship.

Bane walked, alert. He kept his eyes forward, but he was focused on his rear. His ears were sharp and his senses were perceptive. If Yanth tried to turn on him as he made his way, he would be ready, but the only thing he heard was Green Hair yelling as he was dragged along the floor.

With the Hutt in charge, he was in for his comeuppance; Bane did not pity him.

---

Once outside, Bane was unaware his worries would intensify. His first order of business had been to comm his ship and his little droid, but there had been no answer.

“Todo, how’s de lil’ hellcat doin’. Finished ‘ere,” he started, waiting patiently before he became impatient. He could not think of an excuse to be ignored, unless there was a heap of trouble brewing.

“Todo, where are ye’? Answer de comm,” Bane demanded of his companion.

For a few moments, he stopped to wonder; just who among your ranks had it out to kill you? Truth be told, this job was getting out of hand. He had a mind to leave it all behind.

Then, he remembered your annoyingly attractive face, your buxom tits, and all your assets. He would not admit it to himself, but he had somehow formed a slight attachment; he wanted to see you safe if nothing else, you had paid him to do no less.

“Todo…” He rang his ship a second time, his droid’s name spoken with mild panic. He should have known better than to leave the two of you alone; his scales prickled as he thought of all the things that could go wrong. He had no idea about your hunger, or the lengths that you would go to get a meal, nor did he realize you had solicited his addled sidekick to go somewhere against his will.

“Ye’ gotta be shittin’ me,” Cad Bane declared, igniting his repulsor boots again. This time his aim was for his speeder, parked some few blocks off. He only hoped when he made it to the Justifier that you weren’t dead, or worse.

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sinisterexaggerator · 10 months

Text

😈😈😈

Cad Bane x OC idea.

I plan to write a fic where Cad Bane faces off against an androgynous, female Jedi after Order 66. Maybe he’s desperate for credits and knows the Inquisitorius will pay him well for proof of the kill. Here are some thoughts.

Cad Bane has been watching a female Jedi, her various run ins with Inquisitors.

She's crafty, "cheats" by using things like sonic detonators.

He's fascinated by her. She's barely 20. Perhaps a Padawan during the initial Order 66. One day she gets cut, deeply, by a lightsaber. She manages to escape again, but she's bad off in an alley.

Bane comes upon her; she begs him for help. He stares into her tearstained eyes and fires.

It's a stun shot. He takes her back to his ship and throws her in a bacta tank. He wants to take her out himself, but not like that. Seems unfair. He has his code. He wants to give her a chance because he respects her efforts and her tenacity.

Once she's healed he sets her loose, but not before coming to terms with the fact he’s started to like having her around - he says she has a full rotation, then he's coming after her for that million credit reward.

It's a cat and mouse game for quite a bit, until one day she rescinds her lightsaber during their " final duel" and kisses him.

He thinks she’s trying to seduce him, but she’s so, so tired of running. He is the only person to have shown her kindness in these last few years. He has a choice to make: Set her free, or turn her in? At this point she’s given up. Her fate is up to him.

He tells her to run. She won't. She's gutted by an Inquisitor before his eyes. She smiles and dies; Bane is PISSED.

He gives them a piece of his mind. They've finished their job so it doesn't much matter. He's lucky they don't attack. He's pretty quick should he need to evade and escape.

Maybe he buries her all nice like, or at least does something with her body so it does not lie in the gutter. ( Maybe he takes her back to Naboo since she mentions that is where she is from? )

To make it worse he WAS going turn her in; he changes his mind at the last minute. But it's his fault because he brought her there and they still pay him. He could possibly ask for, or keep her lightsaber. They allow it / leave it behind without thinking and do not care.

Maybe this is where he swears off the Empire. He’s pissed enough he wants nothing to do with them, especially after maybe hearing other rumors of their atrocities and the fact everyone, including the Duros, are suffering at their hands.

He takes "the job" for the million credits, but could care less about what they stand for.

Maybe this Jedi gives him the rundown on Order 66. He thinks it’s unfair and not very sportsman like. He heard the Clones turned on their Generals, but could never make sense of it until now.

Here, have a mood board I made for it. It is still untitled.

A doll I made of what I wanted her to look like ( sort of ).

#cad bane #my fic ideas #star wars #jedi #clone wars #order 66 #oc #cad bane x oc #fanfiction #headcanons #galactic empire #inquisitorius #rise of the empire era

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sinisterexaggerator · 2 years

Note

A reader who's a scientists and inventor who highers Bane to be her escort at a big reveal ceremony and gala to keep her and her new revolutionary invention safe (probably some war tech!). Lots of live jazz music (sorry, jizz music), fancy wears (cocktail gowns and dresses and nice suits). While she is an inventor she is also classy, sensual and seems to know more street smart then one would think. Either night goes smoother than expected or a gun to the head kind of situation.

Happily Obliged! I had waaaaaaay too much fun with this!

I had to post to AO3

Part 2 can be found here.

----

Explicit!

Warnings: Oral sex.

Note: “ Lizards smell stuff with their tongues! Just like snakes, a lizard sticks out its tongue to catch scent particles in the air and then pulls back its tongue and places those particles on the roof of its mouth, where there are special sensory cells. The lizard can use these scent “clues” to find food or a mate or to detect enemies. “

-----

The Justifier took up more airspace than was … justified, and it was right outside your luxury penthouse in the middle of Imperial City on Coruscant. You walked to your balcony to see your hired mercenary, though traditionally he was in a different line of work – he was a Bounty Hunter.

Cad Bane had been bought off by Lord Vader to be your escort; you were in personal contact with him, as you were “Chief Design Engineer” on a top-secret project - a starship - it was Onager class. He spoke of personal experience, though you knew nothing of what that entailed; he would have escorted you to the gala affair himself, but he was part of the Emperor's security detail.

Until now, it had been shrouded in secrecy. Its capabilities were second to none within the current arsenal of the rising Empire. The Clone Wars had ended, but there were still Separatist holdouts that remained on worlds throughout the galaxy; they had to be taken care of. People were rowdy, out of control, out of order; they didn’t want to submit to their new ruler, though it may be what’s in their best interest. It was a Star Destroyer. Your source of power had been two-ton Kyber crystals. It came equipped with a full arraignment; It had Orbital Bombardment Particle Cannons that were your pride and joy.

He had been warned this was a formal, but he had shown up wearing some Nashtah-hide tunic and a heavy duster. He had on a leather hat, which the circumference might as well have been double the size of any you’d ever seen, and of all things he was chewing on a toothpick that was nestled between sharp teeth.

You almost cringed as you stared at him, dressed in a tight little number that was a hue that nearly complimented the man’s skin and matched his horizontal, ovular shaped eyes. It was red, shimmery, and you wore black pumps that accentuated the muscles of your calves. Your hair was coiffed elaborately for the occasion, and strands of it framed your fetching features.

Bane nearly let the toothpick fall from his thin line of a mouth seeing who his client was for the evening, but he caught it with the edge of his elongated tongue - witnessing the little bit of pink flick so fast in the air like that sent a shiver down your spine - you wondered what else it could do.

“He'llo dhere, lil’ lady. Cad Bane … at yer sser'vice.” He tipped that gigantic hat of his before returning it to its proper position atop his smooth, somewhat rounded head. He had a brow ridge that protruded over alluring deep-red pools; they were fathomless, like Alderaanian wine, perhaps, but even redder.

“Yer bills al'ready been paid in advhance so Ah’m aht'cher disposal, however ye' see fit.” His voice was husky, though somewhat mechanical; it reverberated inside his throat. He had an accent you suspected was Durosian, though you had never met one of his kind before. Normally, you weren’t attracted to other species, maybe a Chiss had caught your eye, but Bane was almost a prettier shade of blue, and that tone of his, the intonations were doing something to you.

“Ye' jus’ gonna stare aht me like dhat all night, or are ya’ ready te' go?” He plucked the toothpick from his mouth and tossed it over the edge of his seasoned starship, reaching out a hand for you to be lifted up onto his open hatch; he was casually leaning against one of the automatic door’s hydraulic arms, his fingers adorned in cutoff gloves. They were lithe, and his hands were large.

"Staring's fine..." you simpered, hardly hiding it - you’d heard about him - the fastest gun in all the Galaxy; he was more proficient than even Jango Fett had been. You wondered how proficient he was at other things. The thought of it sent prickles along your epidermis, and Bane seemed to notice as he made a comment to you, catching you off guard.

“My … species has'a raather power'ful sense o'smell. Ah don’ know if ye' were a'ware o'dis, but yer radiatin' pheromones strong 'nough t'attract a Wookie - 'course dhat's not t'say Ah mind."

You gasped aloud, though the sound was soft; you dared to admit you were mildly aroused until he interrupted your train of thought by yelling out to an unknown service droid. “Todo! Keep de ship steady! Don’t wanna lose our lil’ guest b'fore we’ve even left yet!”

You had one foot on the platform as he whisked you forward, making sure you didn’t tumble to your death below. He kept one hand around your waist as he guided you along, a single digit pressing the hatch door closed as he ushered you towards the somewhat cramped cockpit of his transit.

“Hav’a seat. Ah won’ bite …” His words were a drawl, a hypnotic song inside your ear.

"Drat." It came out much too quickly.

You barely noticed the little droid who was at the helm. He spoke up then, asking for directions. “Greetings, Ms. Where is it we are going this evening?"

“To the… Im-Imperial Palace.” you breathed out, suddenly feeling rather warm; you were heated - maybe you were even blushing - Bane commented on that, too.

“Too hot fer ye', is it? I tend t'keep de temper'ture turned up. Cold-blooded, ye' see. - Todo, drop de thermo'stat so she doesn't melt like Anukarian cho'colate.”

You wanted to tell him that wasn’t it - more so his sexual innuendos out of that somehow sexy mouth. “Mr. Bane, I don’t know what you’re playing at…”

You leaned lightly forward, your large breasts pushed up into a mound atop your chest; they were sensuous - almost inviting - pure cleavage. “But it’s working …”

You placed your dainty hand atop his knee; he had flung one leg out over the captain’s chair. Your polished nails dug into the leather of his worn dusky chaps, giving him a suggestion, though it was aimed more so at yourself. “Save it for after the party … I can’t have you messing up my hair. I have a speech to give.”

He smiled, or at least you thought he did; it was wicked, halfway to a sneer. “Such'a pret'ty thin'. Don’ distract me. Ah’ve gotta job t'do.”

---

The affair was filled with top brass, admirals, and the highest ranks. Lord Vader was there, and the Emperor sat atop his throne at the head of the entertainment chamber. He faced you on a stage opposite the room, but nothing was as distracting as Cad Bane.

Your mouth moved, reciting lines having been memorized as you gazed out to the audience; there were soldiers, women who were wives, dressed to the nines in fashionable ballgowns, possibly worth ten thousand credits each. No expense was spared; they ate the finest foods, and drank the richest wine, yet nothing shown so bright as that damned bounty hunter who had one foot against a column, dressed so out of place, and you nearly stumbled on your words – your mind went blank for just a moment - someone coughed, but you quickly regained your traction, an elliptical, crimson gaze of the loveliest shade watching your performance like a bonegnawer ready to attack its prey.

There was a nearly scale-sized hologram of your invention behind you with schematics flashing; the visuals changed as you gave your authoritative spiel on the subject matter. You cracked a joke or two at the Separatist’s expense, and the room laughed with you; all except that accursed Duros. He seemed somewhat unimpressed though he hid his feelings well behind a cold, calculating mask that made your cheeks flush with warmth again.

You were given applause, congratulations, then a commendation by your adored leader, knowing the Star Destroyer was already being manufactured; it was set to sail any day now and you were proud of yourself. You felt you deserved a sweet reward.

You made to get off stage and you nearly tripped in your high-heeled shoes. Cad was there to catch you in his arms. It was almost a scene from a holomovie. You blushed as he stared down at you beneath the rim of his excessively large hat, another toothpick having found its way inside his mouth.

“Careful, girl,” was all he said, but it was enough.

“Follow me,” you whispered, perhaps the Duros having to strain his ears beneath his skullcap. The music was echoing through the room, some catchy jizz number. This celebration was for you, but you didn’t care. His breathing apparatus whirred behind him as he lifted you up to stand.

You traipsed off down the hall and to the left, not paying attention, overcome with a heightened intoxication though you were sober; he followed at some distance behind. You curled a finger and he diligently pursued though your trip was short as you found a blaster to your head and an arm wrapped around your slender neck; you had been caught unaware.

Cad Bane stood transfixed, five slender digits neatly crimped around double LL-30s, withdrawn from the no-fight holsters at his hips. “Ah was startin’ t'think dhis job was gonna be too easy. If y'know what’s good fer ye’, you’ll let de Misses go an' sstep a'way.”

“Never!” the hooded man shouted. “Do you know what that thing is that she’s created?! It’s a superweapon! It can take out entire cities!”

“S’naht m'business, son. Ma' job’s t'keep her safe, so now Ah’m gonna reap m'keep.”

You were glad for the distraction as you hiked one leg up, reaching for the vibroknife that was strapped to the outside of your thigh. You withdrew it by the hilt and brought it up, shoving it backwards, straight into your would-be assassin’s eye.

The man screamed briefly until two blaster shots were fired - muted sounds that echoed throughout the empty hallway - he had released you one millisecond earlier and Bane had shot him dead, putting him out of his already too keen misery.

He holstered his own blasters then sauntered forward, taking your narrow chin in the crook of his agile hand between two fingers, squeezing, though not too roughly. He tilted your head to look at him, though you were somewhat out of breath and quaking from adrenaline, his eyes like two Corusca gems; they glittered brilliantly as he gazed at you for the second time that night. “Yer naht lettin’ me earn m'creditss. What de kriff am Ah even gettin' paid for?”

“For this,” you hungrily sighed out, snatching the pointed wooden object from out his mouth before slamming your plush lips against his. They nearly nonexistent, but his tongue snaked out and you twirled yours around it; you pushed him forward into an awaiting wall. Something felt unique, but you couldn’t place it. Alien anatomy was new to you.

Your hand trailed right along, pressing the entrance panel to an automated door that parted like the Calamari Sea. You backed him up inside and it shut behind you, locking tight. You found a desk to lean him against and he turned the tables; he flipped you around and shoved you down.

His nimble fingers invited himself to your supple flesh, kneading the soft tissue that rested just below the low-cut neckline of your dress; his hands were strong, yet careful - they could bruise you if he wasn't cautious - it sent a mewl of pleasure from your mouth; it only encouraged him.

He licked you then, your curvaceous neck, with delicacy across your sultry skin. He reveled in the savory flavor before he caught you clueless, unsure of what he was about to do.

His breathing mechanism whirled as he dropped down to one knee, throwing that dress of yours up enough so that he could gain access to what he was after - the heat that radiated from deep inside you - drawing him in like a bee to sweetblossom; it was warm and inviting, much like those breasts of yours he wanted to press his face against, but there would be time for that, or so he thought.

“S'pose Ah earn dhem a'nother way, hm?” he asked casually enough. You shook your head, leaning your body backward for your arms to prop you up. He had fangs - it was quite apparent - but you suddenly trusted him enough not to hurt you, perchance unwise, but you wondered what it would feel like until you didn’t have to wonder anymore - he had removed your lacey thong.

It was then you realized what was different; that tongue of his was pointed at the tip, like a large, carnivorous lizard that lived in some galaxy, far, far away.

He pushed his hat back for better access, but he didn't take it off - he had spread your lower lips apart with dexterous fingers, the flat of his tongue trailing across your labia minora until it had found its proper place - he was good at that; you wondered if Duros women were anything like humans.

The vertex of his writhing muscle tickled your pink pearl, exposed from inside its shell. He was adept at stimulating the little bundle of nerves that lived there, though you felt his teeth – they had brushed against you gently – and he was somewhat growling as he slipped a finger inside your body’s cavity, sampling your eagerness, though not moving beyond that second knuckle; he wouldn't want to stain his leather gloves.

He paused; his lip curled upwards revealing canines; he smirked a little to himself. “De 'evil scientist' ain’ so sscary afta' all. She’s just'a wo'man.”

He went back to his work; he was industrious, diligent, ticking just all the right boxes and not even coming up for air. You realized he didn’t have to; he had a breathing apparatus, and he would earn those credits by the end of it.

That snaking finger probed and caressed your insides, finding the underside of your pubic bone where the human g-spot lay in wait; you wondered how he knew. He pressed down with the pad of his pliant appendage, blue like the rest of him, that expert organ titillating you until release, the shimmery substance that was your body’s natural response coating his extremity.

Bane pulled his finger out after your moaning ceased – it took only half of one to nearly fill you – he licked it clean, almost laughing, though you thought you could sense his satisfaction as he gazed back up at you, red eyes boring into yours as your eyelids fluttered rapidly. “Tastess sweet.”

“Good enough to eat?” you lilted, taking one high heel and pressing it upon his chest, Cad still bent down along the floor upon one kneecap. You pushed him backwards and he allowed it though if he had wanted to he could have torn your throat out with those reptilian incisors.

“Ye' takin’ me fer'a ride?”

You nearly had his pants undone, holsters off, and belt buckle parted when a booming voice shouted from the hall – it was your employer, or one of them - Darth Vader, and you had to answer his beck and call.

"Aurora: I sense you are still alive. You are wanted by my master. He has proposed a toast.” He paused, likely reaching out through the Force to answer lingering questions, namely the body that was left behind; the blaster shots that had been fired, though he felt another presence in the room with you.

The door slid open despite it being locked and you were caught straddling Cad Bane. The Duros tilted his head backward to look at Vader from a viewpoint that was upside down; he was unashamed, the brim of his hat hiding the somewhat smug look upon his face. Vader didn’t have one, just that mask - that ugly helmet he always wore - his mechanized breathing echoing around the small confines of the room, someone’s office, and you could at least tell he was staring down at you.

“Come.”

Bane couldn’t help himself.

“Ah think de lil’ lady al'ready did dhat.”

-----

xoxoxoxoxo

Note: It makes me giggle to know Vader is ANAKIN and he KNOWS who Cad Bane is! He might not LIKE him but he knows he’s damn good at his *cough* job.

Took inspiration from this superweapon: https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Onager-class_Star_Destroyer

If you enjoyed this, here is my current Cad Bane longfic/WIP.

#Cad Bane #cad bane x reader #cad bane x oc #star wars #clone wars #post clone wars #smut #evil scientist #still taking requests #writing prompts #cad bane x female reader #darth vader is a cock block #My writing

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sinisterexaggerator · 2 years

Photo

AMAZING ARTWORK created by @stormytitan!

I commissioned her for a particular scene in my Cad Bane fanfiction! I HIGHLY recommend her! <3

Stars Above! | Cad Bane ( AO3 )

Excerpt this artwork depicts:

“Frang …” Pampy had spun around, grinding herself against her half-breed companion, muttering out an expletive as she caught sight of the Duros in the corner; he wasn’t making himself obvious, but he was alone and had set his eyes on them.

“Zula …” The Twi’lek knew who this man was. It excited her. She only wished she was the object of his attention, but it appeared he was fascinated by someone else - the girl she danced with. “Don’t look now, but Cad Kriffin’ Bane is checking you out.”

“Who?” Zulara implored, not sure who this person was, nor did she seem to care. The one she had her eyes trained on was the Iktotchi at the bar. He was looking at her with stoic, controlled composure, his beefy hands crossed atop each other. It appeared as if he might have something he wanted to share with her, but he had subdued his natural inclinations, as Iktotchi were a telepathic lot, sensitive, and though their powers of precognition were somewhat forfeit the farther they traveled from their native home, it often times proved a nuisance. Zulara was unaware of this, thinking the horned beast of a man was attracted to her, though his icy stare had sent a shiver down her spine.

“Him.” Pampy nudged her head in Bane’s direction, and Zulara shifted her sultry gaze. She caught his eyes, then sucked in a tiny breath. He had tipped his hat towards her between two fingers, the motion simple, but somehow catching her off guard.

Zulara blushed, batting her long lashes, then hid her face in Cyhana’s fur. She had wrapped her arm around her, protective of the younger woman, the Cathur whispering; a purr. “He’s been watching you for at least a solid thirty minutes now, Zu’. The Imperial Governess was with him, Tour Aryan.”

She had seen the Stormtroopers on her way in; this man had something to do with them, never having heard his name before today. “Who is he?” she asked softly.

She glanced to him again and he shifted his position. His ankles exchanged places, his left crossing atop his right. One overtly large finger extended outwards from his upturned palm, and he beckoned her. It was a movement meant to coax – he had coiled it back; it was joined together with a “come hither” stare, though he didn’t seem to be playing games. He looked serious, downright no-nonsense; grave, and Zulara felt her heartbeat slightly increase, thumping softly behind her ribs.

“You’ve never heard of Cad Bane?” The Twi’lek asked, mildly shocked, exuding her surprise across her cyan face. She let her own eyes dwell upon the Duros who had recrossed his arms, though Pampy had seen the motion.

“He’s a bounty hunter, the very best in all the Galaxy … those fingers of his work magic, I hear – if you catch my drift – and it looks like he’s after you.”

The poor girl swallowed, her mind drifting, overcome with fear. Did he know? Was there a price for her? A puck with her name on it? Was he here to collect? She had been so careful, and Kayson too. She was conquered by her worry, but tried not to let it show, though there was a trill apparent in her words. “A-after me?”

“Go see what he wants.” Pampy tried to tug her from Cyhana’s arms, though she dug her nails in lightly, Cyhana determined not to give her up too easy – Pampy could be pushy.

“Not if she doesn’t want to,” the half-Cathar sneered.

“I … need to use the refresher.” Zulara released her elegant feline shield, not able to help herself - she looked towards him again, two red ellipses’ boring into her, nearly commanding her in silence. She managed to break her momentary trance, squeezing through a throng of people; partygoers, those heavily drunk with wine and whiskey, ale, whatever their choice may be. The bartender, Ackmena, watched her with mild concern, as she always had her eyes peeled.

It was an excuse, a chance to get away, Zulara pacing in the confines of the private space; a small compartment she had locked herself into. She tried to quell her panicked breathing, playing out all kinds of horrible scenarios inside her head. Her chest was heaving. She felt faint. She tried to slowed her oxygen intake. Did it really matter if they tossed her in a cell? She was already a slave, granted she had certain liberties – they might just throw away the key.

And what kinds of crimes would she be charged with? Smuggling? Weapon’s running? Mutiny against the Empire? Treason? Stealing? The book would be thrown at her, thinking most likely Kayson would allow her to take the fall. It would be no fur off his back.

“Think. Think.” She exited her stall, glancing around, up and down, looking for an access panel or an air vent. There was nothing; no way out except the way she came in. She would have to bail on her faithful friends, but she could always give their comms a call at a later date, explain herself and her abrupt departure. She’d just lie, say she wasn’t feeling well – too much wine and song.

Zulara found herself gazing into another mirror, adjusting her hair out of habit before slowly approaching the refresher door. She exited, picking up the pace as soon as her sandals crossed the threshold, though she only made it a step or two before she came face-to-face with the blue Duros, the muscle that pumped her blood skipping a beat inside her chest; he was arresting, and he provoked in her a sense of dread.

The girl’s eyes widened as he calmly closed the gap between them. This side of the bar was dark, tucked away within a corner – she should have known better – though not thinking that she’d be followed to the refresher of all places.

Zulara pressed herself against one of the walls of the cantina, the man named Bane snaking a single finger upwards, twice the size of hers. He curled it around the O-ring dangling along her throat, tugging; lifting her head up, as the girl had shied away, nearly shutting those lovely eyes against him. She was afraid for herself, and for the consequences she might be forced to bear.

She had been physically coerced to face him. He was tall, slender, and a pretty shade of cerulean, Gazing into his eyes up close was like looking straight into the fires of Mustafar - a burning heat, redder than human blood, or the lightsaber of a Sith. Zulara’s own studied him, her eyes traveling quickly, darting across his features. She was scared, but she felt something stir within her. The authority this man emitted rocked her to her core. She could only stand there, shadowed by the wide brim of his bolero hat, two varied hues pleading silently, afraid to make a move.

“D’ose pretty eyes o’yers might not wurk so well.” To think this girl had seen his silent request for her to join him; to be ignored annoyed him. No woman ever turned him down – not with his reputation; his unmatched skills in fiefdoms rarely spoke of, especially those endured by women who caught his eye off the beaten path he traveled. What made her the exception? He intended to find out.

Zulara didn’t comment; his forefinger tightened around the golden ring. His free hand plucked his toothpick from his mouth and tossed it haphazardly to some unknown place, that same appendage shifting, forcing her chin back up by the crook of one knobby knuckle. She kept trying to withdraw from him. He leaned down closer to her height and paused.

Zulara held her breath.

“Never seen a lil’ lady de likes of you b’fore,” Bane noted, his olfactory senses absorbing her pleasant aroma. His mouth parted to help him process, thinking perhaps it was a tantalizing perfume of some kind, or perchance natural; her scent having notes of sweetblossom, a flower whose extract mimicked narcotics; drugs. No wonder he had been nearly lulled into a drowsy state of mind. His sense of smell was powerful; he could home in on anyone from across the room.

“Been a'lotta places in my time.” Twin canines had been revealed - the girl before him lightly gasped, moving her neck in such a way as if she made to escape his steadfast grasp. He studied her dark locks, her skin tone, the lilac freckles across her nose. His mind wandered to the Zeltrons, but that was nowhere close. For one, she didn’t have blue hair or red, and her coloration was lighter, more refined, pleasant on the eyes – not so high contrast.

"Can' fi'gur' it out." Abrasive finger pads dug in, two digits enough to keep her there, though not enough to hurt, only to maintain her; make her stay… stationary. “Jus' who d’ya' belong to?” he inquired, referring to her slave collar.

Zulara allowed her lips to part, plush and full; red, and Cad himself near enough to kiss her – she whispered, and he would have to strain to hear. "K-Kay ..."

He sensed something, smelled something - fear and mild arousal. It was undeniable, unmistakable … She could pretend, but it wouldn’t work on him. His breathing apparatus burred along his back, his voice taking on the notes of his cybernetics, Zulara’s gaze beginning to wander slowly, gazing at h is skin-tight tunic; the embellishments.

"'Spose ya' tell me yer name, den," he instructed. Her eyes darted up again, large as Weequay Saucers.

“I ... I'm-" she began, finding herself interrupted and thankful for it.

“Hey!” Cyhana belted from out of nowhere, the Duros turning his head in her direction, somewhat miffed she dared to impose on them. “There you are! Everything OK?”

Bane felt a slight sensation, his attention recalibrating; he looked back to see that this girl, this flighty bird, had wrapped her index finger around his still curled along the O-ring – he let her guide him; he was removed, though she lightly squeezed the tip of his nearly nonexistent nail - just a thin layer of keratin existed there, blending in, the same shade as his skin.

She meant to leave, side-stepping him, having regained some type of confidence at the appearance of her friend. He grabbed her wrist, the half-Cathur glaring, and this unknown girl’s breath hitching in her throat as she thought she might get away with this. She remembered Pampy’s comment, taking a moment to study the appendage latched down upon her. It had to be double the size of any humans, and it was cold – it might as well have been the temperature of ice, or snow, though Zulara wouldn’t know. She had never seen the stuff, much less played in it.

“Izrin …” His voice was low, seductive, it reverberated as he spoke that single word from his native language, though she didn’t know it’s meaning, and wouldn’t think to ask.

“Careful.” He released her; Zulara hesitated, drawn in by his intense, unblinking stare, the girl feeling something, it causing her cheeks to flush a shade darker than her normal hue – she backed away, slowly, before turning on him almost with reluctance. What had he meant by that?

#Cad Bane #Clone Wars #Bad Batch #Artwork #Commission #BOBF #Book of Boba Fett #Fanfiction #Fanfic authors #ao3 #duros #original female characters #cad bane x oc

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sinisterexaggerator · 2 years

Link

AO3 Link ^^^

Chapter 3 is now posted. It only took over a month. 7k+ words.

Explicit - NSFW - Vaginal Sex, Masturbation, Teasing, Blowjobs, Fingering, Smut, Humor, Character death because why not ( canon character from SW universe ), Brat taming, Daddy/little / sub/dom undertones.

Part 1 || Part 2 >>>>> Part 4

The Bet

Summary: Your friends don't believe you, and you're a gambling kind of gal. You bet your best buds you can fuck Cad Bane in the refresher of a seedy bar in the lower levels. Will all go according to your plan, or will you have to put your money where your mouth is? Maybe more than that. A Duros' dick, for instance.

-------

“I’m telling you the truth, Eesla,” you whined into your comm, fingers typing, skimming, and zooming in on important data at your work desk as you gossiped with a friend of yours.

“Corde doesn’t believe me, either.” You sighed, your eyes constricting beneath your round, wide-rimmed spectacles. You took the time to push them up with your index finger as the bridge had fallen down your nose.

“I’ll prove it!” you suddenly belted out, having a wild idea.

“How much do you want to bet I can not only summon Cad Bane to the bar tonight, but I can make him fuck me in the refresher while we’re there?” You chirped a saucy laugh, gasping as you came across some new bit of intel on your datapad. You had found what you were looking for.

“Thousand credits – it’s a deal – easiest money I’ve ever made. Gotta go, love. See you two tonight.” You disconnected, homing in on the words before you. You were shocked, intrigued, and somewhat horrified.

You had spent numerous hours off-task, dillydallying some might say, but to you this was important research. You desired to know more about what Lord Vader had spoken of. A certain unique phrase had settled in your mind, causing you to lose your precious beauty sleep. Someone had tried to kill you after all, and you weren’t sure why.

Well, almost.

It was true: you had created a superweapon, but it was to help in bringing peace to all the galaxy! The Empire would use it for good, most assuredly. However, that still didn’t stop you from being curious. Inquiring minds want to know, as the saying goes.

You had scoured the HoloNet, the bowels of restricted access folders, files that required encrypted passwords to reveal. You were good at that sort of thing; you could have been a slicer if you wanted to, but being a scientist was more lucrative. One with your brain, anyway.

You started with what you knew about the clones that were under Palpatine’s “employment.” They hailed from Kamino, an aquatic planet located in the Outer Rim. You followed with the keywords “inhibitor” and “chip,” sifting through the riffraff to come across embedded files within a folder entitled “Order 66.”

Your eyes skimmed the sentences within; your memory was nearly photographic in its retention. You exuded sounds that made others glance around at you, your pad’s stylus having found its way inside your mouth.

“By the core …” you mumbled out, eyes widening behind your spectacles.

The Emperor had built an army with a failsafe: soldiers who could be programmed and manipulated unlike normal human males. This so-called “chip” existed within every foot soldier not born of a woman and their prime directive was subservience.

Your thoughts raced to the Jedi and the “order” that had been given. You wondered if there was a connection to the code name sixty-six. You were aware Palpatine had called them traitors, yet this new information made you somewhat skeptical.

You didn’t have much time to think as a person cleared their throat above your table. You were so absorbed and completely riveted by the plans before you that you hadn’t noticed Grand Moff Wilhuff Tarkin approach your cluttered workspace.

You had nearly fallen off your stool, catching yourself rather gracelessly. You snatched your pad up, shoving it in a random drawer beneath you. You huffed, batting a loose strand of your hair away though the rest was done up in a bun.

“Maker, Moff! You scared the poodoo out of me! Do you always have to be so sneaky? I think you went into the wrong profession, Tarkin. Perhaps you should have been a bounty hunter …”

The sinister man smirked at you, his upper lip rising in amusement. He reminded you of a bloodthirsty piranha who had the body of a lithesome scarecrow.

“Hope I’m not interrupting anything important, Dr. Ordel,” he responded curtly.

“Well, as a matter of fact I was in the mid-”

He cut you off, staring down his beaklike nose at you, not caring in the slightest whether or not you were preoccupied. “I came to congratulate you.”

You sighed, tempted to roll your eyes. You thought that was the point of that whole party - the unveiling of the Onager-Class Star Destroyer. “Again? I dare say flattery will get you everywhere with me.” Everywhere but in your pants. That was reserved for blue men with red eyes and sharp tempers, or so you hoped.

“The Emperor has terminated your current employment contract with Kuat Drive Yards so that you may now be accessible to us full-time as an integral member of the Imperial Department of Military Research. Welcome aboard.”

The man tipped his head to you in a small show of respect, his arms moving to fold along and behind his back. His smirk returned; it was snide. He watched and waited for your reaction. To catch you off guard like this was fun for him. It gave him some twisted mote of satisfaction to now hold you permanently within his spindly grasp.

"I - … Oh …” You bat your lashes, perturbed by this bit of news, though you tried to play it off; concoct a ruse.

“Please tell Emperor Palpatine I am honored and delighted to be in his service,” you simpered, giving him your best wry smile, appearing cordial and in good spirits despite your minor misstep at his attempts to startle you.

“He will be most satisfied. We couldn’t have a brilliant mind like yours getting away from us, after all,” he added slyly, knowing you would be forevermore beneath his watchful eyes.

“Of course! I wouldn’t have it any other way,” you offered with a demure cadence to your voice. You were lying through your teeth, but if Tarkin was considered a good actor, you were an even better actress.

He changed the subject on you, another attempt to disarm and confuse you. “What were you working on? Something extravagant, yet practical, I hope.”

You racked your brain for something plausible, doable, an item that could be added to your growing arsenal. “Oh ... just an… Anti-matter… bomb…”

Kriff. You had just given yourself more work to do.

“Really?” Tarkin’s brows raised in surprise; his interest was piqued. “How does it work?”

“Um … I haven’t quite figured that part out yet. Thinking … nuclear fission…”

“I see. Well, do keep me informed.”

“Yes, sir.” You were going to need that drink, and soon.

---

It had been two days since Cad had left you pining for him atop your bed. Currently, he found himself doing much of the same thing to his chagrin. He should have fucked you, then he would have avoided this whole mess. He was having trouble concentrating, thinking, doing anything. It was hard for him to focus because something else was hard. Since meeting you his sex drive had risen exponentially.

You were insufferable, insolent, and practically detestable – a know-it-all - a good for nothing brat, and a shameless harlot on top of everything.

Despite all that your lips were luscious, your thighs and hips were thick, your breasts were pert and perky, and your rear end was to kriffin’ die for.

He kept smelling you throughout the Justifier; he thought it was his imagination running rampant. He kept circling, stalking, and stomping throughout the confines of his ship. That’s when he found it – it had been shoved up in a corner beneath a console - your thong - the one he had ripped right off of you.

He snatched it up then made for the refresher. He shoved it in his mouth as he hastily unbuckled and unzipped his pants; he discarded his no-fight holsters. He caught his own reflection in the mirror and decided he didn’t want to see his own baseless desperation of all things; this whole ridiculous charade was soooo unwarranted.

He kicked the door, trekking down the narrow hall to his spacious living quarters, that piece of red satin still hanging from his mouth. His fangs were bared as he bit into the silky fibers with a scathing sound; it was evocative of a wily predator from the planet Duro, though you weren’t there to face his carnal wrath.

Bane sat; he sprawled out, his bed more of a conglomeration, or an accumulation of soft things and his most prized possessions than a place to sleep. He lounged upon feathery pillows, fur blankets, and bits of excess clothing; there were trinkets, knick-knacks, loose credits, and an extra hat or two. It was a haphazard assemblage, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He pulled his trousers the rest of the way down, far enough to access his two Durosian dicks. Each one had a testis of its own, and both of them had been withdrawn from their hiding place to rise to full attention.

“Fekkin’ witch … “ he mumbled to himself behind a barrier of cloth. “Oughta find ‘er, fuck ‘er, an’ naht a’llow ‘er t’cum. Show ‘er who’s boss ah’round here - Naht her. Naht ssome karkin’ brainiac wit’ pouty red lips, dhat’s fer sure … Naht ssome harpy wit’a perfec’ ass, ssome degenerate wit’ e’nor’mous tits, nope. Naht ssome flirt who comparess me t’ssome karkin’ Chissss…” he hissed.

Bane groaned, moaned, one cock in each of his curled-up fists. He spit your thong out, but let it rest across his face. He took in its scent with his olfactory organs that rested just beneath his ruby eyes. There was a rumble inside his chest the harder and faster he pumped himself.

“Oohhhh… Oughta kill ‘er, but dhen dhey gonna come fer me… A bounty on de bounty hunta' … wouldn’ b’de ferst time …prolly won’ b’d- de- last…”

The Duros pressed his thin lips together, his eyes shut tight, blocking out anything and everything except the motions of his arms. He growled, rasped, grumbled, cursed, and otherwise hexed your name by the Maker of the universe. In that moment he hated your very guts.

Mmm… but he was so close, almost there, he could feel his seed flowing towards the top of his erect double-penis. His herky-jerky movements picked up the pace, nearly lightspeed, frantic; the man was agitated, but even more so when his masturbation session was sorely interrupted by his bungling droid.

“Mister Bane, there is-”

He supposed he hadn’t locked the door. Todo 360 was outside staring in. He lingered some five seconds; if he had a mouth it would have been gaping open. Instead, all he could think to say was: “Oh, my…”

Bane sat straight up in unrestrained anger, griping, hissing, while your thong fell into his awaiting lap. He yelled out in his Durese accent, his voice heavily modulated by his breathing apparatus. “GHET DE KARK OUTTA ‘ERE YE' BLASS’TED DROID B’FORE I SSHOOT OUT YA’ PHO’TO’RECEPTORS FER SSPYIN’ ON’MEH!”

Todo stood his ground; his logic centers were overpowering his sense of decency. “I came to inform you that Aurora Ordel is on the comm.”

He paused, waited, then added his own two credits.

“Sir, if I may. That woman seemed more than willing to mate with you. I don’t see why it’s necessary for you to relieve yourself when there was a perfectly good-”

“-She ain’ perfectly good, she’s de devil incar’nate!” Bane blinked, realizing just what he was doing – who he was arguing with.

“What are ye’, m’sex therapist now? M’wing man?? Whadda’ye' know a'bout sentient biol’ogy?! Shut de kark up b’fore Ah give ye’a factory reset an’ have ye' memory wiped - an’ get outta de way!’ Said more so out of anger, the Duros knew Todo was programmed to be pesky.

Cad Bane wadded up your thong, tossing it at Todo’s elongated cranium. It landed atop his head as Bane pushed his way out angrily into the Justifier’s main gallery with his pants unbuckled. The droid simply followed him, unfazed by his behavior, knowing it was only due to his excess reproductive hormones. He wasn’t as young as he used to be; he had a finite fertile window. His moods had been sour as of late, and Todo suspected it to be related.

Bane plopped down in his captain’s chair; he was unable to wash away the unsightly grimace from his face. He pressed the button to the HoloNet transceiver and was met with a set of looming, scantily clad, gigantic breasts.

The Duros nearly choked on his own spit; you had leaned over your desk to take care of something as you waited patiently, not noticing how close you were to the transceiver’s relay beam.

You called out to someone: “I’m going to take care of that tomorrow! I don’t have time for that right now, I’m waiting for this damned Duros to pick up the-”

“A’HEM!” Cad Bane hacked; he coughed out noisily.

Your tits zoomed out followed by a pair of pretty lips and something else - a kind of eyewear that was overlaid across half your intolerably attractive face - they look liked they’d make good targets for his sperm. They were round, large, and calling out his name. There were two of them, just like he had two loads to spare.

You adjusted your girls within your top and bra, smacking your lips together before your singsong voice called out. “There you are!”

You looked beyond him and to the left. You seemed confused. Bane looked to where your eyes had settled and found Todo 360 to be right beside him, your underwear still resting across his noggin – it was laid out on either side like a kind of bonnet, or a veil.

Cad Bane seethed; he seized your undergarments. They disappeared somewhere off-screen, his little droid having been nearly destabilized as he waved his tiny arms in an attempt to keep his balance.

You cleared your throat, smiling seductively. “Did I interrupt something?”

“As a matter-of-fact, Bane was just-”

Todo’s eyes dimmed; the light cut out. Bane had flipped a switch, the little droid crashing to the ground. Your eyebrow raised, the Duros snarling before he bothered to reface you. He kicked his feet up, trying to come off as nonchalant.

“Droid al’ways givin’ out m’business. He’s a karkin’ blabbermouth.”

“Mmhmm, mmhmm. I see.” You pushed your glasses up; they kept on falling down.

“And it had nothing to do with the fact my thong was on his head?” you asked. “I was wondering where that went.”

You were surprised when Cad Bane blushed. He nearly fell out of his fancy seat. Your wrist lifted to your lips, nearing your portable comm device. You whispered: “ Entry 4. Duros can feel embarrassment. In fact, their cheeks change colors as do humans, though to a deeper shade of blue, or maybe green, I suspect. However, it is hard to discern through the employ of hyperwaves.”

“Don’ know where he found it!” Cad Bane interrupted you, becoming increasingly irritated. “Lil’ pervert dhat he is!”

He continued, exasperated, once recovering himself. “An' Ah ain’ em’barrassed, lil’ lady! Can’ control what he gets in’te! Sshoulda put’a restrainin’ bolt on ‘im long time ago.”

The Duros crossed his arms; he looked off into the distance, frowning. He hoped you would buy the lie. For his sake, you took the bait.

“Well, anyway. I was hoping you would escort me home tonight.”

“You’ve got two legs, whadd’ye need me fer?”

You pouted, pushing out your plump bottom lip. “I’m meeting some friends at the Red Rancor in the lower levels. I’ll be OK on the way down, it’s still early,” you whined. “But, on the way home I’m afraid someone might try to take advantage of a poor, defenseless girl like me.”

The Duros scoffed. ‘Ye' ain’ poor, an’ ye' ain’ defenseless. If ye' were, Ah’d be havin’ nothin’ t’do wit’ ye'.”

Your hand lifted to your chest; you feigned affronted. “I know you’re in it for the money, but you could at least pretend to like me.”

“An’ why would Ah do dhat?” The Duros grit his teeth, his red eyes gleaming as he turned to face you, Cad having been pretending not to care in the least what you thought of him.

You leaned back in your chair; you cupped your breasts, pushing them together to reveal a deep ravine of cleavage. You fondled yourself, moaning subtly, your glasses sliding down your bridge once more.

“Well, I like you …” you breathed out light and airy.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you bit your lip, another sound escaping you that was a rather convincing façade of your false arousal. It was true; you were horny for the hunter, but currently you were putting on a show.

“Fierfek,” Bane mumbled beneath his breath, nearly taking up his cocks below the relay beam of his own transceiver. Instead, he bellowed out a growl that really did turn you on – it was animalistic and depraved.

“Two-hun’dred thousand credits, wo’man! Dhat’s de’deal!” He slammed his hand down sharply and his lovely face left you, and that garish hat. He had cut you off, leaving you alone back in your office. You hummed a little ditty to yourself as you released your breasts and made the transfer. Cad Bane was worth every single credit.

---

You made sure to go out of your way to look good enough to eat. You wore black pumps, thigh-high stockings, and a skin-tight dress to match. It ended barely beneath your ass, making sure to flatter all your assets; you were determined to get that Duros’ dick in you.

Your hair was down; your mouth was painted candy apple red. You were playing into the role of a scamp, a slut, and very much on purpose. Those spectacles of yours remained - contacts were for special occasions - you would never opt for Lasik. You didn’t see the point.

You gazed around the lower level; you were far, far down from your normal stomping ground. You shuddered, for you thought you felt a pair of beady eyes on you. You wondered if it was Bane, playing games, yet you had the feeling it was something more menacing. You clutched your purse, picking up the pace, thankful that the door was only a few steps off.

“Hi, ladies!” you called out as you entered the Red Rancor. It got its namesake for its choice of lighting that was tinted the same shade. Everything was cascaded in a blood-colored luminescence, and this place had a reputation for being seedy, which you quite liked.

You were smart, classy, but also naughty. Intelligent, but coy and coquettish. You were known around town for being down and dirty, up for anything, and apparently that also meant fucking scruffy, no-good bounty hunters.

“Mm, I’ve missed the both of you!” Your arms came in, one over either side of Eesla’s and Corde’s shoulders. You kissed each of their cheeks in turn. Eesla laughed while Corde wiped your red lipstick off her face.

“Where have you been hiding, Aurora?” Corde asked, knowing it was your business to be practically wedded to the Empire.

“Beneath a beast. One of the largest starships in our fleet.”

“Oh, that’s right! You’re famous now.” Eesla teased.

“Please, enough about me. I need a drink.”

You ordered a brandy, neat. It was of high quality, often associated with snobbery, but that wasn’t far from the truth. Still, you liked its flavor - the sweet and savory burn as it slid down your eager throat – you idly wondered what a Duros’ cum tasted of.

“So, what’s new?” you asked casually. “Spill the Tarine tea!”

You felt left out of the loop holed up in your office, and it was nice when you could hear the gossip and the chatter of civilians who didn’t work for Palpatine - someone normal - though they had to be a little unusual to hang out with the likes of you.

“Hm, well, have you heard? Queen Apailana of the planet Naboo broke off diplomatic ties with the Galactic Empire!"

“Really? Why?” You sipped your brandy, quite surprised.

“Well, she doesn’t believe what the Emperor is doing is right …” Eesla made sure to keep her voice down, bordering a whisper.

“Which part?” You laughed forthright, knowing there were many things to say, but that it was a dangerous game should you decide to play it. You wouldn’t want to be tried for treason after what Grand Moff Wilhuff Tarkin had announced to you today.

“Don’t you ever question working for them?” Corde cut in, appealing to your conscience.

You cleared your throat, taking on notes more serious as you responded candidly. “Well, apparently I do not have a choice as my contract with Kuat was terminated without my consent.”

“They can … do that?” Corde seemed unnerved.

“Oh, sure. You’re looking at the Empire’s personal call-girl. I’m an Imperial Slut now, girls. Getting gang banged by Palps, Lord Vader, and a Grand Moff all at the same time.”

“Speaking of getting banged, where’s this infamous Cad Bane?” Eesla questioned.

Your upper lip curled into a twisted smile; you took another sip of brandy. Just thinking about that damned man sent sparks flying throughout your body, straight down into your warm core.

“He’s around here somewhere …” you assured her though not entirely sure yourself. You hoped he would show up, otherwise that was two-hundred thousand credits down the drain.

---

Cad Bane hadn’t bothered to finish himself off; he hung on to his own arousal out of pure annoyance. If you liked him so damn much, well, he was going to give himself to you, and not in the way that you might think. He would do so publicly, not knowing you would be into that, and that you roughly had the same idea.

He wanted to pull your hair; sink his teeth into you; tear into your flesh like the carnivorous, half-reptile that he was. He wanted to squeeze your breasts, dig his fingers into your pliant skin. He desired to make you squirm, scream, beg for mercy. He wanted you to plead with him to let you cum, but he’d get his then leave you high and dry with less than subtle markings all across your neck and shoulders, or at least that’s what he told himself.

He wanted to taste your blood again; he wanted to play in your body’s natural fluids; he wanted to make you an experiment like you were making him out to be. It was like you had never come across a Duros or read a damn xenobiology book to save your life. You had said you wanted an “escort home,” but you hadn’t specified what kind.

So, you were a scientist; he’d give you one too many things to record onto your comm device. Entry one-million, seven-hundred thousand and-

You were loathsome, obnoxious, crude, obscene, and soooo infuriating! But credits were credits, after all, and you were beyond loaded. Why not take advantage of you in more ways than one? You could be his sugar momma. That is, if he didn’t make a meal out of you first.

Ultimately, if that’s the sort of gamble you had in mind, well then Cad Bane was more than willing to buy in. He would clean you out of all your hard-earned money. He might even have fun doing it though he would be too proud to ever state the obvious.

He couldn’t give a womp-rat’s ass about you, not a lick, as he walked onto the scene of your chosen establishment. The Red Rancor was a place with a less than savory reputation, not somewhere he would think a woman of your stature ought to go and for good reason, but you kept proving to be different time and time again.

So much so, no one bat a lash as Cad Bane made his entrance. There were people worse than him within these walls. In fact, one of them already vied for your attention whether you wanted it or not. The Duros corralled a growl within the bounds of his throat’s hollow, his eyes dilating as they adjusted to the meager light. This particular person didn’t sit well with him for other reasons -- reasons he kept all to himself.

Rako karkin’ Hardeen. The real Rako, not some Jedi in disguise; freed from prison, apparently. Still, that didn’t mean he couldn’t hate him. The very sight of his tattooed and scarred face was enough to send Bane’s mind down memory lane, an embarrassing scenario to say the least.

He had smelled it; he should have trusted his own gut. There was something funny from the start of that whole job.

The Marksman of Concord Dawn had his arm around you and another woman. He appeared loose, drunk as a Lucrusian fengrill, and not paying attention to what was going on around him. Bane thought it sloppy of a bounty hunter to become that inebriated out in the open; the Duros himself preferred to remain sharp-witted.

He wanted to kill the man out of spite, even though he had nothing to do with that whole damn escapade. He had been in jail somewhere, perhaps not knowing that Obi-Wan Kenobi was using his DNA as camouflage. Still, he couldn’t tell if you were uncomfortable or enjoying it, and that just made him mad, but it was was enough to give your hired gun the go ahead to do his job.

“Hardeen,” the Duros seethed through gritted teeth.

Thank the stars above Cad Bane was finally here! You were unimpressed by this so-called sharpshooter who kept bragging about doing in some Jedi, though it was a boldfaced lie. He smelled of ale, cigarra's, and filth. You wanted him away from you as soon as possible.

He had purchased a drink for you and your two friends without his asking, though it was plain as a bright and sunny day on Tatooine that he had taken a fancy to you, and you had already given him many, many hints. Namely, “your breath stinks” and “I don’t like you,” yet he was very persistent.

You turned around; your arms reached out as you beckoned Bane like a toddler wanting to be picked up. You weren’t even thinking about what you were doing or how ridiculous you looked.

“Caaaad. What took you so long?” you whined; the Duros scowled. If he could have, he would have rolled his eyes.

You could care less what this Rako fellow thought, the bartender, the other patrons, or your friends. They were already staring openmouthed as they presently believed you; the tall, blue, handsome man with the gigantic hat had finally shown himself.

“Do I know you?” the deep booming voice of Rako responded as he leaned across your shoulder for support. He weighed you down as you tried your best to dislodge him from your person. You pouted up at Cad from behind your glasses, those candy apple red lips of yours persuading him to think dirty thoughts as he brought his hand down against his own Persuader’s hilt, fingers curling along one LL-30 BlasTech pistol’s grip.

“De naame’s Cad Bane, an’ ye' got ssomethin’ a’mine dhat don’ b’long t’ye'.”

Something of his? He was declaring ownership?

Rako Hardeen was sloshed; it was nearly impossible for him to function; he said something that made Cad Bane furious. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Chiss.”

You mildly gasped. He was a dead man! The only problem was you were in his way. Cad Bane beckoned you with a single finger as your friends moved to either side. You didn’t know whether to be aroused or intimidated.

You shucked the man off hurriedly, sliding forward across your barstool. You couldn’t contain yourself; you dashed into the bounty hunter’s arms. You were melting like an ice cube, your cheek nuzzling his protective leather tunic as he allowed your debauched groping of his lanky frame.

He placed his palm atop your head to steady you like quieting a child, holding you still as he held his blaster at the ready, eyes narrowed and sharp fangs bared. “Ain’ no karkin’ Chisss, Ah’m a dang-blamed Duros, get’it right!”

“Holy hells, I could listen to you yell all night…” you mumbled out so quiet he wouldn’t hear you. His voice was just that sexy. Your friends thought that you were crazy for digging this hot-tempered alien. You were needy, suddenly all desirousness, simply horny for the man for no good reason except that he was there.

“Well, you’re blue and you have red eyes,” Rako stated matter-of-factly as he teetered on his toes.

“That’s specist!” you cried out, suddenly pissed off. “You think just because he’s blue that he looks the same as all the other species with blue s-skin -er- scales and red eyes?!”

You snatched Cad’s blaster from his hand; it only happened because he was caught entirely off-guard by it. That was the last thing he would have ever expected you to do, but it didn’t stop you from marching forward with the barrel aimed right at Hardeen’s chest.

“Apologize,” you demanded tersely.

“Aurora!” Corde cried out, surprised.

“Now hold on dhere, lil’ lady! I cahn fight m’own battles.”

Hardeen laughed right in your face, Bane’s face, so intoxicated he had no idea who or what he was dealing with, or either didn’t care. “That’s rich. I thought you were some big bad ass the way people go around talking about you, but look at this, the slut is taking up for you. Going to let the “little lady” do your dirty work? You must fuck this whore real good for her to-”

Rako got a blaster shot between the eyes and not from you. Cad had laid him out with his other LL-30 before you had the chance. You jumped in fright, stumbling back away from his heavily armored body as it hit the floor. Some few people glanced around but brushed it off. The bartender made a subtle motion, two goons of a sort coming to lug him out the door.

Your friends had scrambled, running across the bar and to the other side. You collided with the Duros from behind just as he snatched his other weapon out of your outstretched hand, replacing it right where it belonged. Your lip was trembling as he spun you right around by the shoulders. You had blood splatter all across your face; you weren’t really going to do it, though you were capable of murder, but this hadn’t been in self-defense. You would be questioned – perhaps someone would miss this fellow - but that was not Cad Bane’s prerogative.

The hunter took your cheeks up between one hand; he squeezed them; he pressed your lips together. He hissed at you as your friends stared on in shock from a safe distance away. All in all, Bane was satisfied, thrilled to do it, he had barely needed a reason why. He felt Rako’s ugly mug alone had justified his death despite it not being Obi-Wan Kenobi under there.

“Dhat’s what ye' get fer hangin’ out ahtta plaace like dhis where’ya don’ b’long.”

Your fear dissipated as your eyes narrowed. “I belong anywhere I like. Who’s going to tell me otherwise?” you managed to say between lips still partway sealed. It came out muffled, unthreatening, and Bane might have laughed at you if he wasn’t still so thoroughly annoyed.

The Duros dragged his thumb across your sassy lipstick laden mouth, rubbing; smearing. He scowled as he looked you in your eyes beyond your wide-rimmed spectacles. He didn’t like you wearing it. “Ye’ gonna get messed wit’ lookin’ de way ye’ do. Ever thought o’dhat?

You struggled; you pushed him along his chest. You nipped his finger; he bat you on the nose with his wiry index. He released you, then backed a step away. He inspected your attire; your skintight dress, your thigh-high stockings, and your patent leather pumps. Your hair was down. He couldn’t deny you were flirtier than a Twi’lek, and perhaps just as sexy as one, too.

“Maybe ye' like de atten’tion, hm? One man ain’ good e’nough fer ya - made note o’dhat lasst time. Hardeen might’a been right a’bout’cha.”

“Women can wear whatever they like; men just need to learn to control themselves, and – and - that’s – that’s not true! – I .. I just haven’t…” you started off, trying to defend yourself. What was really true was you hadn’t found a man worth your precious time – one that could consistently satisfy your desires, or your dirty fantasies.

“Haven’t come across anyone who can …”

His hand reached out; he fingered the loose strands that framed your pretty face. He growled, or maybe purred, a rumble being issued from the seat of his throaty voice. He favored the soft stuff that humans had growing out of their small crowns, but he didn’t favor yours being so loose and bouncy for all eyes to see, though perhaps no one else cared or saw hair the way his species did: Exotic.

Your arm lifted; you couldn’t help yourself. “Entry 5. Duros seem to be appreciative of human hair – touching it makes them emit a sound reminiscent of a purr in felines. Hypothesis: Duros do not have hair, therefore they m-”

He snatched your wrist up; he cut you off. “Ain’ purrin’! Wha’chu need is disc’ipline.”

You laughed that obnoxious laugh. “And you’re going give it to me, are you?”

“Don’ tempt me, lil’ lady…” his voice was grave.

“I’m sooo scared. I’m shaking in my heels,” you retorted back. You loved baiting him and getting under his cold and callous skin.

You turned from him. “Bartender, one Duros ho, please.”

Cad Bane looked confused, his head canting to the side as the man behind the counter concocted something blue with ice and decorated with two bright red cherries: vodka mixed with spotchka and a splash of sour mix – quite delish.

He scoffed. “A Duros what.”

“A Duros ho,” you snickered, taking a long sip, then picking out a cherry to pop into your audacious mouth. You ate its flesh then spit the pit right at him.

That was it! He took the drink from you; he slammed it down atop the counter. He took up your dainty wrist again and dragged you towards the back to shove you against a wall in a secluded corner. Bane pinned you there, one arm on either side of your shoulder blades. You hated to admit it, but you were somewhat scared. Scared and turned on.

“Now ye' listen here! Ah don’ care how’much’ yer payin’ me, ye' don’ disre’spect me, or Ah’m liable t’do somethin’ Ah might regret! Hellss, Ah won’ regret it, but Ah don’ like’te make’a habit o’killin’ innocents, even if dhey are’a stick in my craw!”

Oh, you were a manipulative little bitch. Nothing like an angry fuck. You had plans for him.

“Just makes you want to punish me, doesn’t it…”

You pressed a single finger against his chest.

“Want to show me who’s in charge?”

Your hand raised; you caressed the rough underside of his mandible as he growled.

“Maybe you want to stuff me full of your cock and hate fuck me?” Your hand wound down, traipsing, trailing along his coat’s lapels and across his heavy tunic towards his holsters.

“Force me between your legs - make these full, red lips suck you off - this mouth that just won’t shut up…” You licked your lips, your teeth, batting your lashes playfully as your hand reached for his crotch. He stopped you there, his reedy digits digging themselves into the flesh of your wrist again.

“Ye' playin’ wit’ fire fer fun lil’ lady, or are ye’ straight askin’ te get burned?”

“I’m asking. Begging.”

You lowered your voice and whispered. “Fuck me, Bane. Please, please fuck me. Ruin me. Send me to hells in a handbasket. I want to meet my Maker.”

The Duros hissed; he grabbed your hair; he dragged you forcibly towards the refresher. You were ecstatic – finally! You waved goodbye to your friends as you disappeared behind the door.

Cad Bane threw you against the sink; he turned you around to face him. He lifted your dress up, slowly, bringing out a vibroknife that had been concealed. Your breath hitched as he brought it in close to your private parts. He made eye contact with you, then sliced the strap to your underwear on either side. “I could have just..”

He fondled you as the fabric fell away to test just how greedy you were; how ardent your pussy was for him to enter. You were drenched, the glossing of his lengthy fingers along your slit nearly causing you to draw blood from your own lip.

He pulled away, sneering.

“You fucking tease,” you breathed out heavily.

The Duros unbuckled his gun’s holsters and sat them down along the counter without so much as a blink. He stayed trained on your face as he unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. He husked them off to rest at his midthigh, unzipping his tunic and inner suit of armorweave right after. You were near to delirious with longing.

His fingers had trailed almost delicately across the zipper’s metal teeth, taking his time painstakingly as you watched with fascination, increasingly captivated. He ended far below his slit; it was more than enough to let his cock, or cocks spring free when he was ready. You moved to touch him, and he slapped your hand away.

“Naht until I ssay.”

You panted, your eyebrows knitting. You could see through the gap in his black suit. His chest was taut, slender, though muscular, and full of battle scars.

“Kiss me,” you pleaded.

“On yer knees,” he stated gruffly.

You fell fast and hard; it had kind of hurt to drop like a ton of bricks, but you were sooo ready for whatever he had in store for you.

You stared up at him, lips parted. Your chest was heaving as you tried to wait so patiently. You moved to touch yourself and he lightly kicked your hand away with his steel-toed boot. “Naht a’llowed.”

“Please, Bane, please. I can’t stand it!” you muttered out.

A cruel smile crossed his countenance. He took you by a tuft of hair. He tugged you up, just level with his cock as he revealed it – one of them.

“Holy- holy kark…” you exhaled a rasping breath, eyes wide; you were stupefied. It was thick, long, and bulbous at the tip. Its shaft was blue-green down its length, and it was covered in ribs and crests; spicules; they were tiny and looked pliant. You couldn’t be sure, though the scientist in you wanted to record data on your comm -- it almost resembled a tentacle.

“Does it – does it hurt?” you asked, somewhat off-put.

“Ain’t had no complaints,” Bane quipped.

“Entry-” Cad Bane cut you off by pushing his Durosian dick against your lips. You immediately quieted and imbibed his member to its end; you trusted him. The Duros had almost gasped but caught himself last minute. You had no gag reflex. It was time for him to be at your mercy.

His ridges and bumps across the inside of your throat somewhat tickled, but it wasn’t irritating. You sank down on your legs as your head craned upward, one hand moving in to grasp at the base of his unique cock.

“Mmm…” you mumbled against his cold and slimy scales. It was sticky, slick, and oh-so tasty, your tongue swirling; twisting; writhing across every nook and cranny he had to offer. Your head bobbed in a steady rhythm as Cad Bane held on. He had placed one hand along the back of your human cranium.

Your jaws hollowed out, you sucked with all your might, like a vacuum cleaner attached to an MR-9 housekeeping droid. Bane grit his teeth as you climbed up his legs with both your hands, more level now and less on the ground.

You slurped noisily, gripping the edges of his bony hips before you snuck around and grabbed his ass. It was small, but there was a little bit of flesh to it - enough to dig your fingers in.

“Aw-awfully good aht- aht-dhat,” the Duros commented between bared teeth. He was trying to control himself as he failed to bat your hands away from his rear end.

You pushed him forward and he nearly burst, but he didn’t want to give you that when you so wanted it. He slowly pulled his crotch away, his dick sliding out of your hungry maw, inch by inch. He was impressed you had deep throated all of that.

"Yer enjoyin’ yerself too much. Can’t have dhat.”

You were feeling raunchy, just miserable, empty; inappeasable, and you hadn’t even gotten anything. Your tongue lashed out; you tried to catch his cock with your mouth again, but he was too quick for you. You pouted up at him.

“Mn… don’t you want to fill me up?” You rubbed your belly coyly, biting one finger of your other hand. He snatched you up by your roots as he jerked himself; that had been too sexy, karkin’ harpy that you were.

It only took five seconds and he had come all over you and your glasses as you gasped. You couldn’t see a thing!

The sticky sheen had a greenish tint and the worst part was it wasn’t in you. You didn’t even get to ride him and he hadn’t fingered you like last time! It was total banthaspit!

“My glasses!” you cried out, offended.

“Looked like as good’a place as any. Been wantin’ t'do dhat.”

Cad Bane leaned over the sink, one hand propping him up against the counter’s edge. You pushed him sideways, then ran your spectacles under the refresher faucet. You were having trouble getting the mess to remove itself and you complained forthwith, beside yourself.

“That was a waste of a perfectly good load. I wanted to know what it tasted like, Cad. That’s not fair- you didn’t even fuck me, you said you were goi-”

One broad hand had come to cup your pubic mound beneath your dress; a single finger entered you to your body’s center. The whole of you convulsed and shivered; each knuckle had felt so wonderful as it broached you, and now you were bent over and exposed.

“Shut up, girl. Ain’ done wit’ ya'.”

He stroked your G-spot with ease, barely trying, you were going to cum within seconds flat, in and out, back and forth, up and down – you spread your legs apart, laid yourself flat across the countertop with your ass up in the air - he set one hand down across your naked flesh; it bounced, rippled, and created a red welt as he left his imprint.

“En-En-mmhmhm- Entry Sixxxx. Duros have the longest fucking fingers in the universe, and I want them inside me at all times for the rest of my lifeeeee - Oh, kriff, fuck, fierfek, karrrkin shit. Mm. Bane, I’m going to-”

And just like that he withdrew from you; he left you wanton. You turned to him, prepared to slap him for doing that to you. He caught you by the arm, snarling, your face now bare though you could see him only partially.

“Are you glaring at me? I can’t tell. You see, there is cum all over my spectacles instead of in my mouth, and I needed those to see w-”

Something else had entered you: his dick. You were surprised he had recovered so quickly after that! You moaned out loud just as a man tried to walk through the refresher door. You gasped as a shot was fired. Bane had taken up his blaster and nicked the wall.

“Piss somewhere else!” he roared.

You sat down on the counter; you wound your legs around his waist, tugging him forward by his lapels and slamming your mouth straight into his as you groped his chest. You slid your hands in, feeling him up before he had the thought to stop you. He had the shapeliest pectorals but no nipples to be found.

“You don’t have – have nipples, Cad,” you murmured out against his rail thin lips between salacious breaths.

“An you do.” He pinched both of yours between his fingers on either side, causing you to yelp, enunciating in both pleasure and in pain.

“What is that... smell? It’s so .. so...” you buried your face into him. Whatever it was, it was delicious. You couldn’t seem to get enough. It made no sense whatsoever, but that didn’t stop you from shoving your nose against him.

“Fuccck, feels like a fucking .. ma-ss-aa-ge…” you rattled out, pushing yourself back along the mirror as Cad Bane forced his powerful thrusts into your wide hips. You could feel each ridge, like a grade A sex toy. You would never want to masturbate again unless it was to the image of Cad Bane.

You manhandled your own breasts; you looked so pretty. He drew you up in a tight embrace across his chest and sank his fangs into your neck like a vampiric creature out for blood – and he was.

Your back arched; you clung to him around his shoulders; you pressed him into you as your voice soared. He was drinking from you, he had raked you, cutting through your skin, but it wasn’t vicious much like last time; it tickled as he sucked.

Ohh, and your pussy was so tight, so lavish – just like the woman it belonged to - he was going to hate having to do this to you if only because he was enjoying your warm walls. He had never bothered to latch onto you. You didn’t want to escape him anyway; you wanted all that he could give you of himself and more.

His hips had never stopped their forceful undulations; he was making literal waves inside your cunt, and you were more than enjoying it. You cried out to the heavens; you screamed his name. He pulled out of you right before you breeched the edge of an orgasm.

You fell backward, horrified. Your vagina ached, and so did your entire body. You wanted to cum so bad; he had done that on purpose. You stared at him; you felt hurt. Your brows were curving inward as you reached out to him. “Cad … I need you…you can’t just…”

One Durosian digit curled to rub your clit. You closed your eyes; you were breathing hard and heavy. You spread your legs wider for him as you chewed your own bottom lip. You started to moan again and he stopped just short.

Your eyes shot open; you nearly cried this time. He laughed; it was borderline evil, sinister, and malicious; thick like molasses, and just as dark.

“Oh, please… don’t be so cruel…” You reached for him and he stepped away from you. He started to seal himself off by zipping and buckling up his pants. Cad had already gotten his fill enough not to care; it was more fun to torture you than to get off a second time, and somehow, someway, you still hadn’t noticed he had two cocks.

“No…” you whimpered out, reaching out to grab his hat. You placed it atop your own head as you scrunched up into a little half naked ball in the corner of the countertop. Your back was resting along the mirror, knees up high, your pussy still exposed; you could care less at the moment.

“Give me m’hat, lil lady! – ‘spensive.”

He moved to snatch it back; you weaved away somehow. You sulked. “You can’t have it back until I get to-”

He was successful the second time; you nearly toppled over onto the floor as you held on, but it was high enough he would have felt bad for you and he caught you before you hit the ground.

You kicked your legs and feet like a spoiled child, glaring up at him. Cad Bane laughed again; he couldn’t help himself as he set you down.

“Ferst lesson, lil’ lady. Ye’ listen t’me an’ quit bein’ such’a hellion or yer only gonna get what ye’ deserve – nothin.”

You clenched your hands; you crossed your arms; you shouted at him - something you had not planned to do. “I was starting to feel bad about making that bet against you, but now I’m not! You’re a tease! You’re terrible! I-”

He tugged you up by your human hair as you groaned in pain. You tried to pry him loose, but you were soon both face-to-face.

“What bet?” he seethed.

Your expression faltered; you were genuinely afraid. You were going about this all wrong. Cad Bane could kill you if he wanted to. “ I made a bet with my girlfriends that you’d fuck me in the refresher – and it looks like I won.”

Cad Bane hissed. He was fuming mad. He dropped you flat on your shapely ass.

You squealed as you hit the floor, grimacing, but that did not stop you from telling him the truth. “But I don’t even want the money! I wish I hadn’t! I only wanted to .. Cad, I .. I like you.”

The Duros threw his gun belt on, fastened it, then stormed out and left you on the ground. You hurriedly gathered your belongings, pulling your dress down the best you could; you adjusted your tits within the top of it so they wouldn’t spill out unwelcomed. You scampered after him as he pushed open the cantina door.

“Wait, Bane! I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings! You do have those, yes? It’s not every day a girl gets to fuck the best bounty hunter in the entire galaxy! You can’t tell me you’ve never played games with someone for your benefit. I’m sure you’re just as guilty, aren’t you?!”

You nearly tripped in your high heels as you tried to follow him, having forgotten all about your friends. He turned on you as his duster whirled around him, the Duros baring his fangs at you as he was tempted to pull his blaster.

“I know you-you don't hate me… Why else would my thong still be present on your starship?” you asked, totally serious. You weren’t trying to pick at him one bit.

Cad Bane shook his head, glaring, his eyes gleaming in the lamplight of the narrow street as people passed to the left and right. It might have been something witnessed in a holomovie if the topic of the conversation weren’t so karkin’ stupid. “Yer by far de worst client Ah’ve ever werked fer, an' dhat’s sayin’ somethin’. Dun witcha – don’ need yer creditss. Plenty more money t’be made someplace else.”

You whimpered, your lip quivering. You had done this to yourself. You looked a mess; your hair was mussed, and you had bite marks along your throat. Your lipstick was smeared to top it off; you had all the appearances of being nothing more than a common whore.

“Cad, I’m sorry,” you pleaded earnestly. You meant it, too. It was wrong of you.

“Too late fer dhat, Iady.” He tipped his hat. He was cross, but not enough to kill you.

“Please, don’t go. Walk me home like you said you would?”

Tears had fallen down your face as he gazed at you. He felt a little something stir; he huffed out a breath but said nothing else, no words to comfort you.

“I promise I’ll be good for you.” You were trembling, one hand lifting to your lips as you nibbled along your finger out of nervousness. You didn’t want the hunter to be mad at you. You had taken things too far.

It was hard to say no to a pretty woman such as you, but you deserved it and you knew it. “End’o de line, fer you.”

“All .. all right. It’s just that I can’t.. can’t see very well, after you…” Your eyes welled; you sighed out. You wiped a few tears away then turned to leave.

You traipsed off in the opposite direction as he stared after you. You didn’t want to push it, even though it had been true – you were walking blindly in a dark and scary place.

You were dejected, not paying attention. You turned the corner and vanished from his sight. He stood there in the middle of the square, amongst the rabble of the lower levels, thinking hard about something, waiting, debating, wondering if he should change his mind. You had paid him, after all.

He heard you scream; he was jerked from his inner turmoil. He rebounded off a wall like a graceful feline and kicked around the bend, blasters drawn.

He was too late - you were gone.

-----

Masterlist

#Cad Bane #Cad Bane x Reader #Cad Bane x You #Reader Insert #Star Wars Smut #x reader #x you #Star Wars #Fanfiction #Star Wars Fanfiction #Duros #Cad Bane x OC #Cad Bane x Original Female Characters #Reader Request #Anon #my writing

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