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#clone veteran I’m so sorry
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The Bond Between Us ~ 46
THE BOND BETWEEN US MASTERLIST
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< previous chapter
Word Count: 3,520ish
Summary: Obi-Wan goes to Daiyu to retrieve Leia. He learns some news while there.
Notes: This is basically all of Kenobi Episode 2 with a little added reader in there. It’s a little boring, to be honest, sorry.
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Once on Daiyu, Obi-Wan didn’t know what to do. All the signals in and out of the planet were blocked so he couldn’t find the ship that had brought Leia here. He had asked Qui-Gon for guidance, only to still receive nothing. As Obi-Wan walked the streets, he caught sight of a clone veteran. He was still in his clone armor, an unkept beard growing.
“Spare any credits?” The clone asked, holding out his helmet. Obi-Wan walked over, pulling out a few credits. “Help a veteran get a warm meal.”
Obi-Wan was reminded of the clones—Rex, Cody, Crak, Fives, Oddball, and many others. He hated seeing the Empire throw them away. Yes, the clones were bread for one purpose, but that didn’t make any of it right. Obi-Wan tossed the credits in the helmet before moving on.
After meeting a man named Haja, pretending to be a Jedi, Obi-Wan was able to find where Leia was being kept. He snuck into a lab and was trying to figure out where Leia was being kept in it.
“Hey,” a lab worker called out from behind. Two workers came to Obi-Wan’s side. “What are you doing back here?”
“Oh, I seem to have lost my way,” Obi-Wan responded, pretending to be clueless.
The lab worker scoffed. “Yeah, well, get back to work.”
“Right.”
Obi-Wan threw he elbow back, hitting the shorter working in the face and onto the ground. The taller worker in front of Obi-Wan, punched Obi-Wan in the gut. He groaned before being hit in the face. Obi-Wan’s hand went up to his nose as he turned around and dodged a punch from the taller worker. The shorter worker was back on his feet, helping attack Obi-Wan. 
The weakened Jedi, dodged a few blows before punching the taller man down. Obi-Wan groaned in pain, having forgotten how much it hurt to punch someone. The shorter man went after Obi-Wan, who dodged the attacks and fought him off with his one hand. Eventually, Obi-Wan caught the man by the neck and leaned into his ear.
“Where’s the girl?” Obi-Wan asked quietly.
The man told Obi-Wan that he would find her fuller down in another hall. Obi-Wan knocked the man out before quickly finding his way to the room. He unlocked it and the door slid open. A hooded figure was in the center of the little room.
“Leia,” Obi-Wan whispered. “Leia.”
He flipped the hood off to reveal an old droid. Two beings came up from behind Obi-Wan, turned him around, and pinned him to the wall, aiming their weapons at him. A man walked in, all cocky.
“I didn’t know that Jedi could bleed,” the man taunted, seeing blood on Obi-Wan’s clothing from the fight. “I’m surprised you fell for it.” He chuckled. “I figured you’d be smarter than to risk everything for a spoiled little brat.” 
The man punched Obi-Wan in the gut, causing him to lurch forward with a groan. One of the one’s pinning Obi-Wan down, took Obi-Wan’s saber from his belt and handed it to the man.
“The Inquisitor really figured you out,” the man stated as he studied the lightsaber in his hand. “She’ll be here soon. Then we’ll be rich and you’ll be dead.”
“Where is the girl?” Obi-Wan asked. “She must be close.”
“Doesn’t matter! You’re not getting out of here. You’re not a Jedi anymore, Kenobi. You’re just a man. And you’re bleeding all over my floor.”
“Well, everybody bleeds.”
He pulled a thing of spice that a girl before had put in his pocket and threw it on the ground. It exploded into the air, making everyone cough. Obi-Wan put a mask on, went over to the man, kneed him in the crotch, and took his lightsaber back. He walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him. He carefully continued down the hall. He stopped in front of one of the doors and placed his hand on it. Obi-Wan could vaguely sense someone inside. He opened it and stepped in. He was quickly hit by something and notice a girl trying to make a run for it.
“Wait,” Obi-Wan ordered, reaching over and grabbing Leia.
“Let go of me!” Leia yelled.
“Wait!”
“Let go!” Obi-Wan set her down and she stumbled back. He had his hands out to show he meant no harm. “Who are you?”
“Your father sent me. I’m here to help you.”
“Where’s the army?”
“Come. I’m gonna get you out of here.” He took her hand and started dragging her from the room. 
“Why should I trust you?”
“Would you rather stay here? Now, let’s go.”
Obi-Wan quickly led Leia outside, knowing that they had little time with an Inquisitor on the way. He put his hood up and stole a smaller lab coat for Leia, forcing her to put her hood up as well.
“Come on,” he urged quietly, holding her hand. “We don’t have much time. Keep your head down.”
“This would’ve been easier with the army,” Leia muttered.
“Shh. Quiet.”
Obi-Wan guided Leia over to a quieter place. He let go of her hand.
“Come in here,” he said. “We have to change.”
Leia took notice of the two sabers on his belt. “Is that a— you’re a Jedi?” She questioned.
He quickly shushed her as he looked around and pulled another item of clothing over his head. “Quiet.”
Leia pulled her lab coat off as well. “It’s just… you seem kind of old and beat up.”
Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, already sensing the Anakin in Leia. He leaned down to be more at her level. “There is a port across the city. We need to make the last transport.”
“Okay, then let’s go.” Leia turned around and headed away.
“Wait.”
Leia froze in front of a large creature that growled at her. Obi-Wan quickly went to her side as the creature walked away.
“You have no idea what I’m risking being here, Your Highness,” Obi-Wan told her. “From now on, you’ll do exactly as you’re told, understand?”
Leia nodded, still in shock. Obi-Wan grabbed her hand and started heading down the streets. As they walked, Obi-Wan heard beeping on data pads and comlinks. He noticed that they all had images of him on it. He tried not to groan as he flipped his hood back on.
“Come on,” he told Leia. He took her to a little stall across the street and grabbed a green cape. “Here, put this on.”
“Can I try this one instead?” Leia asked, grabbing the highly decorated one. 
“Half the city is looking for you. Put this on.” He helped her into the cape. Before going to the owner and pointing to what he was going to buy. “A little green cape.” Leia walked over to a set of gloves and picked them up. “You don’t need those.” Leia continued to put them on. “And the gloves,” he told the owner, knowing it was useless. “Thank you.” He walked back over to Leia. “Now, if anyone asks, we’re farmers from Tawl and you’re my daughter.”
“Granddaughter, maybe,” Leia muttered.
“What?”
“Nothing.” The two headed down the street again. “Where are we?”
“Daiyu.”
“This place is incredible. Do you smell that?” She tried to head over to a food stall.
Obi-Wan stopped her. “Don’t smell anything. Don’t look at anything. Don’t touch anything.”
“You should like my parents. Why aren’t you using your lightsabers? Maybe it’s because you’re not really a Jedi. I heard they all died. I read that Jedi can make things float. Make me float.”
“What?”
“I want to float.”
“No.”
“Because you can’t.”
“Because if I use the Force, then it’ll draw attention to us. Come on.”
“You haven’t even told me your name.”
“Ben.”
“It’s not a Jedi name.”
“Well, that’s my name. You’ll have to trust me eventually.”
“How can I trust you when I know you’re hiding something?” Leia stopped, forcing Obi-Wan to look at him. “You think the less you say, the less you give away, but, really, it’s the opposite.”
“How old are you?”
“Ten.”
“You don’t sound like you’re ten.” You sound like your father, your aunt, and your mother.
“Thank you.”
“Come on.” 
Obi-Wan guided her into an alleyway, away from those clearly after him. They entered a clearer one, when a man turned the corner. Obi-Wan quickly uppercut him, knocking the man out and to the ground.
“Who was—“
“He’s a bounty hunter,” Obi-Wan answered, cutting the young girl off. 
He pulled the body to the side to not make it noticeable. Leia found a seat against the wall and pulled out her small droid.
“We’ll stay here for now,” Obi-Wan said. He noticed the droid and pointed at it. “No noise from that.”
“Her name’s Lola,” Leia responded. “And she won’t make any. She’s hurt.”
“Good.” Obi-Wan realized how that must have sounded and regretted it. You would have been much better at handling Leia, much kinder and gentler. He moved over and crouched beside her. “What happened to her anyway?”
“She was ripped to pieces by kidnappers. She’ll be alright, though. She’s strong.”
“I let your parents know you’re safe. You’ll be back in the palace, back to normal, by nightfall.”
“Normal. Great.”
“Now who’s hiding something, Princess?”
“You don’t have to call me that. I’m just Leia.”
The man that Obi-Wan had knocked out had a device that started beeping.
“Stay here,” Obi-Wan ordered as he went to check it out. He saw a picture of himself on it and he knew he needed to shut it off. Leia followed after Obi-Wan, noticing the picture.
“What is that?” Leia asked. “Why is there a picture of you? You did lie.” She took a step back.
“Leia—“
“That’s what you were hiding. You’re the reason I’m here. They took me to get to you.” She kept backing away. “Did my father even send you?”
“Of course he did. Leia, listen to—“
“How do I know you’re not the real kidnapper?”
“You have to trust me.”
“You aren’t a Jedi.”
“Your father is a very old friend.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Leia.” She turned and bolted out of the alleyway. “Leia! No!”
As Obi-Wan began to chase Leia through the busy streets, his mind played a similar memory to this one.
“Are you saying it was your decision?” You asked, voice clearly broken.
Obi-Wan sighed, absolutely hating himself for being the cause of your pain. “Look, I know I did some questionable things—even verging on terrible, but I did what I had to do. I hope you can understand that.”
You yanked your wrist from his grip as you spun around. “You lied to me! You— you severed our bond!” You were grateful that it was just the two of you left here as tears spilled down your face. “Do you even know how much pain you caused me?!”
“As I told you, I would never do you harm without reason.”
You shook your head. “This—“ You motioned to his transformative look. “This was not a good enough reason… you broke my heart, Obi-Wan. You broke my trust… I don’t think I can ever look at you the same again.”
“Darling, please, you need to understand that—” he stepped toward you only for you to quickly step away.
“Please, just leave me alone.” You ran away, into the woods.
“Y/N! Y/N! Come back!”
Obi-Wan could not lose Leia. Not that he really lost you that day, but he almost did. He could not fail you by losing Leia. He tried not to draw too much attention to himself but he had to move fast to keep up with her. He watched as someone grabbed Leia and he quickly drew his blaster and shot the man down. Another man attacked Obi-Wan. He quickly took the man down before Leia started running again.
“Leia!” He shouted. 
“No!” She cried. 
“Leia, wait! Stop!”
“Leave me alone.”
Leia found a ladder in an alleyway and quickly climbed up it, onto a roof. Obi-Wan saw her and followed after.
“No! Wait!” He called. “Leia!”
When he reached the rooftop, Obi-Wan saw Leia hurrying from one roof to the next.
“Leia!” He kept calling. “Leia!” Leia paused when she saw the bounty hunter on a roof across the alley. “Stop!”
Leia ducked behind some clothes hung to dry just before shots were fired at Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan pulled out his blaster and begun to fire back. He fired as he followed after Leia.
“Leia! Stop, Leia!” His fear was ever-growing. How would he be able to face Bail if Leia had died on his watch? “Leia! Leia!” He was growing more desperate with each call of her name. “Wait!” He ducked behind a piece of the rooftop to start firing at the bounty hunter again as Leia ran toward the edge of the roof. “Leia!” 
Another bounty hunter joined in the attack as Leia clearly was debating on whether or not to try and jump to the next roof.
“Leia, don’t!” Obi-Wan shouted as he fired at the bounty hunters. Finally, he was able to hit the first hunter, killing him. “Leia, no!” Leia started running for the edge. “No!” She jumped off and Obi-Wan rushed over. “Leia, no!” He watched as she caught a wire hanging between the two buildings. “Hold on! Hold on tight!”
“Ben!” Leia whimpered.
“Don’t let go, Leia. Hold on tight.”
“Ben!”
Obi-Wan was panicking. He didn’t know what to do. He could see that her fingers were slipping. “Hold on. Just—Just… Leia! Leia, no!” Her fingers let go and Obi-Wan swore his heart stopped. “No!”
“Ben!”
Obi-Wan shot his arm out and closed his eyes. Straining, he tried to use the Force to catch Leia, to stop her from falling. He groaned as the Force was not reacting as fast as he would like. He thought of you and how strong your connection was to the Force. Obi-Wan pushed himself further until he could finally feel the Force react. Leia stopped just before she hit the ground. Obi-Wan grunted as he slowly set her down. Panting, he closed his eyes briefly before rushing down to her.
“Are you alright?” He asked, crouching down beside her. He was still panting, just even having used a little of the Force had taken a lot out of him.
“You… you really are a Jedi,” she responded, slightly in shock.
“We need to move.” 
He took her hand and led her out of the alleyway. When they reached the port, they were informed that all incoming and outgoing travel had been canceled. They ducked behind a wall as Inquisitors and stormtroopers passed by.
“Who are they?” Leia asked.
“Inquisitors,” Obi-Wan responded. “Many were Jedi who turned to the dark side. Now, they hunt their own kind.”
“And this is all for you? Who are you?”
Hearing something behind them, Obi-Wan suddenly stood up. Without doing anything, the bounty hunter was shot down revealing Haja, the false Jedi.
“The bounty is on me,” Obi-Wan said, quickly pleading his case. “Let her go.”
“Listen carefully,” Haja said, hurrying to him. “The entire city’s locked down. It’s done. you need another exit.” He pointed to a building up in the sky. “It’s a cargo port. It’s fully automated. They won’t be looking for you there. Go to transport eight.” He handed Obi-Wan a small device.
“What are you talking about?”
“It goes to Mapuzo. They’ll be waiting.”
“Who’ll be waiting?”
“There are people out there, people who can help you.”
“You expect me to trust you? You’re a criminal.”
“Look, have I made a few bad decisions? Sure. Do I feel bad about it? Sometimes. Do I like credits? Yeah. So much stuff you can buy with credits.”
“Haja.”
“You remembered my name.” Haja chuckled. “I’m trying to make amends. I got that family safe, and I’m gonna do the same for you. If I’d known what you were—“
“Doesn’t matter what I am. I just need to get the girl home.”
“Go to these coordinates. They’ll help you from there.” Haja held out another small object.
“And how do I know this isn’t just a trap?”
“What choice do you have?” Obi-Wan took the other object from Haja. “You’re not alone, Obi-Wan. I’ll buy you as much time as I can.”
Haja rushed off with Obi-Wan and Leia quickly doing the same. They made their way to the cargo port elevator and up to where they needed.
“We must be careful,” Obi-Wan warned. “This is a cargo port. It’s not meant for people.”
“Then they won’t look for us here.”
“Well, not unless it’s a setup.”
“Is it that hard to believe you might have friends?” Leia moved to stand in front of Obi-Wan and stopped. “Look, since I met you, I’ve been chased, shot at, I almost fell to my death, and now there are Inquisiting people after us. If somebody is offering us help, I think we should take it. Now, come on.” 
Leia turned and headed off. Obi-Wan couldn’t move, just taking in what Leia had said. There was so much of Padme and Anakin in her—even a little of you. But that rant just pulled him back to a time when he watched Padme argue in the Senate. Leia turned back when she realized Obi-Wan wasn’t following.
“What now?” She asked.
“Oh, nothing,” he responded, “you just remind me of someone.” He walked over to her. “She was fearless, too. And stubborn.”
“I’m not stubborn.”
“Yes, you are.”
“I’m not! Was your friend a Jedi, too?”
Obi-Wan sighed, stopping in his tracks. “No, she was a leader. She died a long time ago.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“Me, too.”
The two continued to walk together towards the cargo ship. A door clanked behind them, causing Obi-Wan to rush Leia behind a stack of cargo. He peeked over to see a female Inquisitor walk in and ignite her red lightsaber.
“Obi-Wan…” the Inquisitor called in a sing-song tone of voice.
“Leia,” Obi-Wan stopped and held out the two objects Haja had give him. “If I don’t get back in time, go.” Leia took the objects. “I’ll be right behind you, I promise. Go!”
“I can feel you…” the Inquisitor continued. 
Obi-Wan took his lightsaber off his belt and held it in his two hands like he had never held one before. Feeling that he might need extra strength, he placed his back on his belt and took yours in his hands. He ducked behind the cargo as he tried to see where the Inquisitor was.
“Your fear betrays you,” the Inquisitor stated. “You don’t have to worry. You’re not going to die… today. I’m just going to take you to him. Lord Vader will be pleased.” Obi-Wan stopped, unable to move. What had she just said? “You didn’t know. He’s alive, Obi-Wan. Anakin Skywalker is alive.” Obi-Wan felt like his heart was going to beat right out of his chest, his breathing becoming labored. “He’s been looking for you for a long time. And I will be the one to deliver you to him… deliver him to your love.” 
His love? Obi-Wan was confused. What did this Inquisitor know about his love? About Y/N? She couldn’t possibly be alive. Obi-Wan had felt her death, he was sure of it. All of this was short-circuiting his brain.
“Third Sister!” The Grand Inquisitor shouted, bursting into the room. “I can stand the reek of your ambition no longer.”
“I found him,” the Third Sister responded. “We have him!”
“And I cannot risk you losing him again. Move aside.” Obi-Wan peeked through the cargo to see the Inquisitors. “Watch and learn.” The Grand Inquisitor went to use the Force when the Third Sister plunged her lightsaber into him.
“You think I’d let you take all the credit?” She pulled her lightsaber from him and the Grand Inquisitor fell to the floor. “Who’s in the gutter now?” 
Obi-Wan ran off to the cargo ship. Leia saw him coming and started the ship. It took off as the Third Sister ran after Obi-Wan.
“You can’t run, Obi-Wan!” The Third Sister shouted. “You can’t escape him! We will find you! We will destroy you!”
As the ship flew off, Obi-Wan fell down into a seat. He was incredibly dazed, overwhelmed by the information he had just received. He was breathing heavily, unable to calm his racing heart.
“What is it?” Leia asked, noticing that something was wrong. “Are you okay?”
“Anakin,” he breathed out.
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tobitofunction · 1 year
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The Princess and the Soldier
Captain Rex was called your sworn protector after a couple close calls but that’s not the only thing he became
A/N:: Basically if Rhaenyra was a space Princess but without the incest
TW:  still birth and dying during birth
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“Princess this my third in command Captain Rex,” Anakin Skywalker said pointing towards the blond stoic Captain,” Princess, it is an honour protecting you from harm” he bowed his head,” I will be staying for a while Princess, just to make sure my Captain is settling in well,” Anakin said,” Be my guest General Skywalker” you hummed,” Captain, do you want to take a walk with me? Just so we can start to know each other better” you suggested,” If that’s what you wish Princess,” he said, he held out his hand for you to take,” Don’t stay too long, we are a council meeting soon,” your father said making you sigh, you nodded and grabbed Rex’s hand as you slowly made your way down the stairs.
“So tell me about your adventures with General Skywalker, I heard rumours about him being not like other Jedi's” Rex laughed at the statement,” He truly isn’t but that’s what I admire about him, I trust the General with my life.... even though he likes to throw me around like a Ragdoll at times” you laughed at the end,” Tell me about your favourite adventure,” you asked folding your arms behind your back,” You are quite curious,” he said with a lifted brow, you shrugged in response,” I don’t have many opportunities to see outside this planet,” you said honestly,” Well the first time we meet, he saved my life actually. I came fresh out of Kamino, and they directly send me out to Geonosis to help the Jedi, they were impressed with my resolve and granted me Veteran Status within the Grand Army of the Republic and the Jedi High Council assigned me with General Skywalker. I was second in Command of the 501st”,” But the General called your third?” you asked confused,” That was before the General got a Padawan. Anyway, our first Battle was in Arantara. I don’t remember much, only that we got surrounded by Clankers, and the next I knew was the General looking down at me. I was surprised as during my whole training time, we were always told that we are replaceable, that we are clones which only have one purpose which serves the republic o matter what cause” you frowned at the statement given,” That sounds like slavery”,” A few clones saw it that way as well and decided to desert but with General Skywalker I never saw myself or never felt like a slave, he saw the surprise on my face and began reassuring me that I will be fine and he started to blame himself, that he should have been charged in first, as in his words a true leader always leads from the front. He’s not the only one to think like that either General Kenobi, General Windu and General Pro Noon among others see us as equals. I trust General Skywalker with my life as I know that I mean something to him, I'm not just a number to him” he finished,” I see” you said,” Now Princess, tell me about you”,” What is much to tell Captain, I’m a Princess of a large Planet, the only child he has, which unfortunately turned out to be a girl” you said,” Why, Unfortunately?”,”No woman sat on my planet thrown, and the council would rather burn it to the ground than see me on it”,” I’m sorry to hear that”,” It’s fine, mother is Pregnant at the moment, Father is already saying it’s a boy. He looks so happy stroking her belly, I wonder if he was like that when she was pregnant with me, where he thought he had an heir” you said staring blankly into the air,” He loves you, you are his daughter” Rex said,” He needs an heir, not a daughter” you sighed,” I heard rumours that Dragon’s life on this planet” a soft smile spread on your lips of the mentions of Dragon’s,” Come, I show you the rumour”
You guided Rex back to the Castle but instead of walking into it, you walked towards a small cave beside it,”I didn’t see that when I walked in”,” That’s the point Captain” you smiled, once walking in you were greeted with the Keepers bowing their head at you,” Bring me Neilu” you said making the elder nod,”Aōhoso dārilaros (As you wish Princess)” he said before leaving,” What language was that?” Rex asked,” It’s the language of my ancestors, we mostly speak it to our Dragons or we used to. Centuries ago we had many now, we only have a hand. Mine and my Father’s and a couple of wild dragons, an egg is being incubated for my brother at the moment”,” Where did the egg come from?”,” The Dragon Keepers get them from the wild dragons, not many dragons manage to hatch not even in the wild” you explained, soon the familiar sound of heavy footsteps filled your ear,” Neilu” you gasp turning towards the keeper and the red-scaled beast,” Nyke missed ao (I missed you)” you patted his long neck making him grumble,”Bisa iksis rex, ziry's iā raqiros, sīr daor jorrāelagon naejot ipradagon zirȳla (This is Rex, he's a friend, so no need to eat him)” you said noticing Neil’s gaze towards the clone captain,”Rex, come hear” you gently grabbed Rex’s hand and placed it on Neil’s neck, the dragon still keeping an eye out for the stranger,” I can feel his scales through my gloves” he chuckled making you smile,”Neilu hatched a couple days after I was born, he spends most of his time in my crib where we bonded when he grew too big for the castle I spend my nights in the Dragon-pit, I would sneak back in the morning hoping my mother won't find out, she did find out as Dragon’s have a strong smell, I didn’t notice it as I got used to the smell already” you smiled at the memory, Rex smiled down at you, he than turned back to the large beast in front of him, he was the size on an x- wing, besides the scales Rex could also feel the heat sinking through his gloves,”Do you want to see him feed?” Rex gulped,” We won’t feed you to him” you chuckled,”maghagon mirri parklon syt zirȳla (bring some meat for him)” soon a couple of Keepers walked in with a dead pig, they laid it a couple feet in front Neilu and walked away quickly. Rex notices the Dragon's stance shifting, he could feel the muscle tighten and the heat in his neck becoming stronger,” Dracary’s” you said and with that, the dragon spat fire at the dead animal in front of him, after finishing burning it Neilu speeded towards it and began ripping into it,” Princess, your father requested your Presence” a servant said making you nod.
“Y/N, what took you so long,” your father said as you walked in, Rex following close behind,” I’m sorry father, I lost track of time” you bowed your head,” Spending time with that red beast?” one Lords asked with his nose scrunched up,” I was showing Captain Rex the symbols of our house,” you said grabbing the jug of wine,” Let her enjoy it, she has no duties so far,” a different lord said as you began filling the cups on the table,” She’s still a Lady of royal blood and hanging out with those stinking scaly beast isn’t becoming of someone her status,” the first Lord said placing his hand on top of the cup stop you from filling it,” Lord Barrin, I appreciate your concern about my daughter’s status but having a strong bond with the symbol of houses are vital to our family, but I do agree, y/n my dear you smell,” he said making your face turn a shade darker,” I’m sorry my King” you bowed your head and placed the hug back on the table and sat down beside your father,”Our Queen is giving birth to our new heir soon, I want to propose that the tourney in honour of the child”Lord Barrin said making your father smile,”I like that idea, let’s do it. Make it quick, my wife is close to giving birth” he smiled happily, he looked at you,”Aren’t you excited? We be finally having an heir soon” he patted your hand making you nod with a fake smile etched on your face,”Of course father”. Rex watched the interaction between the two of you, he could feel the sadness radiating off you, he smiled at you when you turned to him, you gave a small smile back but he knew it wasn’t as genuine as before.
“Are you okay?” Rex asked after the two of you left the meeting,” How I said before, my father only cares about an heir. I am used to this, I hope the Tournament will be exciting” you said changing the topic,” What’s a tournament?” Rex asked with furrowed brows,” It’s just where Lords and Knights from different parts of this planet and others come and knock each other off of their beasts. Sometimes they are held to find a suitor for a daughter or like in our case for the birth of a son” you shrugged,” They are quite violent, sometimes the fall on the ground kills them, sometimes a one-on-one battle happens which often leads to horrible injuries and death” Rex lifted his brows in surprise,” Rich people are something else” he shook his head and chuckled,” Yeah, I guess we are. I want to visit my mother, wait here” you said stopping in front of large wooden door,”As you wish”. 
“Oh dear daughter is paying me a visit” your mother said fanning her self,” You look thread full” she rolled her eyes as you sat down beside her,” Aren’t you are a charming one, soon enough you be in this position”,” I rather join the Jedi” you mumbled making your mother scoff,” This is our battle field my child, sooner or later you will see this as well” she said making you humm,” Did Father tell you for a buyer already?”, your mother cocked her head,” That’s why your doing the tourney right? To find a good husband or should I say a rich an powerful one”,” Y/N, you are of age which means you need to get married and there are many young Lords out there”,” But also a plenty of old once’s who want me for our dragons”,” Talking about dragons, take a bath you reek of dragon” she said scrunching up her nose,” I am on my way mother. You will be already right?” you said looking at your mother pained face while she tried to change her position,” It feels like I’m about to give birth to an actual dragon” she said trying to lighten the mood,” Take care” you said with a smile before leaving her room.” Everything okay Princess?” Rex asked adjusting his helmet under his arm,” I am worried about my mother, she looks sick. I am worried that my father obsession with having a boy will bring her to an early grave” you sighed wiping your hands on your dress,” But I know he needs a male heir, so what can we do” you shrugged as the two of you began walking.
A couple days later the tourney for your brother and to find you a husband began, ironically your mother started her labour today.” Rex, how are things going?” an alien girl said walking towards you and the Captain,” Commander” he said shaking her hand,” Princess this my Commander Ahoska Tano, the Padewan I told you about”,” Ahh, nice to meet you Commander Tano” you said bowing your head,” Nice to meet you to… your highness” she said unsure how to address you,” You can call me y/n if you like”,” Than you can call me Ahoska ” she smiled,” Why are you here I might ask? It’s not because you want my hand in marriage?” you joked,” Actually I am, I try my best winning these tourney’s for you” she joked back making you giggle,” No, your father invited Skyguy-“ you looked at Rex for some clarity,” General Skywalker” he mouthed making nod and turn back to Ahoska who was still talking,” and Obi Wan with their Commander’s, he said besides finding you a suitor it’s a celebration for your brother” you nodded,” He did go all out”. Ahsoka nodded and nodded towards something in your hand,” What's this for?”,” If someone asks for a favour” Padme's voice said from behind them,” Princess” she nodded her head,” Senator Amidala” you smiled,”  A fighter will ask from a lady of their choosing and they be a like a good luck charm” she smiled,” I have one myself” she said holding up a handmade handkerchief,” Do you know by any chance which of these Lords have the biggest castle?” you lifted a brow making Padme roll her eyes at you,” You won’t be sold to the Lord with the biggest castle-”,” But sold to the winner of this tournament” Padme didn’t answer knowing that she can’t say anything that will make this situation better,” Come on Rex” you said walking away,” Why does she need get married?” Ahsoka asked,” She’s a woman on a planet where only males have ruled so far” she sighed,” That’s awful”,” We can’t change this, the Queen is giving birth to what many believe is an heir to the throne-”,” Making y/n useless?”,” I won’t say useless but-”,” she is” Ahsoka finished stalking off leaving Padme stunned,” Lovely conversation you are carrying” Anakin said making Padme jump,”Ani, you scared me” you punched her husband shoulder playfully,” Keep it PG, Obi-Wan is here as well, and many more important Senators” Anakin said formally,”Of course General” she said straightening up her posture,” Why are you dressed like that?” Padme said noticing his get up,”I have enrolled in the tournament dear Senator, I say it would be a great fun” he said with a grin,”Does Obi-Wan know about this?”,”He will once my name is announced. I hope to get your favour Senator” he said cheekily,”What happened to keeping it PG?” she lifted a brow,” True, I see if the Princess would be up to it” he said walking away leaving Padme silent for the third time in a matter of minutes.
You found your seat beside your friend,” There you are” she said,” I haven’t seen you in days, is everything okay?” she asked grabbing your hand,” I’m fine, my brother is being born, my father finally get his heir and I'm getting married off, nothing can be better” you said,” You don’t have to marry anyone who you don’t like you know that right?”,” I just want to ride my dragon and eat a much food as possible. And I want you to be with me throughout it” she smiled at you,” I wish that too but our duties don’t allow for that” she said sadly making you sigh,” I know”,” Is that the clone Captain who is tasked to look out for you?” you nodded,” His name is Rex, he’s great” you smiled,” He’s cute but the one with General Obi-Wan is cuter” she sighed looking at the clone, who face and body wise is identical to Rex but unlike Rex he had striking black hair trimmed neatly and a Nasty looking scar on his left side of his face. He also has a way more serious face on than Rex,” He seems a bit too serious for my taste” you joked,” More for me than” she winked. You looked from the Commander to Rex, he was standing close enough to you, his gaze was on the scene in front of you,” Welcome everyone, this tourney is a celebration of my heir which your Queen is birthing right at this moment if that isn’t a sign I don’t what to tell, but this also a way of seeing suitable suitors my dearest daughter y/” your father shouted gaining cheers from the crowd,” So let this tourney begin”.
You winced seeing a man slam against the cold and dirty ground,”I hate these tourneys, they’re so brutal for what?” you whispered to your friend who nodded in response. The next fighter came from the side and approached the booth you were sitting,” I like to ask for the favour of the lovely Senator Amidala” he said winking at her, she gave a fake smile and handed him the handkerchief,” Surprised no one asked for your favour yet?” your friend whispered into your ear, you didn’t say anything but just watched as his opponent entered the area,” Isn’t that General Skywalker?”,” Unfortunately” Obi-Wan said from behind you.
The General won the battle easily, his opponent was dragged away on a stretcher when the next one came in, a brunette male came ridding on Kaadu which was native to Naboo, he looked around your age, his armour was worn out but he was calm no sign of fear on his relative handsome face,”Senator, do you know who this man is? His ride is a Naboo native animal” you said leaning over your friend to talk to Padme,” Oden, his family have been guards of the royal family for generations. He just finished his knight training” Padme said,” Interested?” she smirked making your cheeks heat up,” No” you shot a quick glance at Rex and back at Padme,” No, just interested as he’s calm for someone who was to battle one of best fighters” you hummed, Oden was set up with Her Lauten, he was 10 years older than you, extremely handsome and cocky, like Oden his family has been part of the Kingsguard for generations.
Oden before the fight began rode over to you,” Can I ask for the favour of the Princess?” he asked, you nodded and walked past Rex who kept a keen eye on you,” Here Lord Oden, please don’t embarrass me, it would look bad on the both of us if you loose with my favour” you joked as you tied the handkerchief around his bicep,” Don’t worry Princess, I won’t lose” he had beautiful eyes, a hazel like you haven't seen before. You then walked back to your seat Rex's hand brushed against your back sending a shiver down your spine,”Rex, who d you think will win this match?” you asked making Rex crouch down beside you,” Oden has your favour Princess, he would be an idiot if lost. If I had your favour I would do anything to win” he said turning red slightly at the end,” That’s lovely to hear Captain” you smiled.
To your surprise, Oden won, even with the underhand tactics used by Lauten,” Congratulations, if I am being honest your win surprised me, Lord Lauten is an exceptional warrior” you mused,” Maybe it’s because of the use of unfair tactics” Oden raised a brow,” Everything is allowed on the battlefield”,” Not really Princess, war crimes exist. Your protect would know about that” he said looking at Rex who was close behind you,” He is right Princess” he said simply,”Well congrats anyway”,”It’s all thanks to your favour” he said tapping the handkerchief on his bicep,” Your being humble Senator Amidala told be about your family history, it’s impressive” you said making his face heat up, you were about say something when you noticed your father leave his seat in a hurry,” Princess is everything alright?” ,” Where did my father go?” you asked,” Princess, your father hurried to your mother bedside, the birth is harder than we thought” a maid said making you nod.
The wind blew in your face, you started at the sight in front of you with a sad expression, your mother nor your brother survived,” Princess, they’re all waiting for you” Rex said behind you,” Rex do you believe that my father found happiness is short minutes my brother lived?” you said lowly, Rex sighed and squeezed your shoulder,” I don’t know Princess”, you looked at your father who looked at the wrapped up corpse of your mother and brother, you looked behind you and saw Padme standing between Obi-Wan and Anakin, she gave you small smile which you didn’t return, you took a deep breath and turned to your Dragon,” Neilu, drac-” the word got caught in your throat, you tried again but nothing came out, a stray tear rolled down your cheek,”Dracary’s” you said suddenly making the she-dragon cock her head at you,”Dracary’s Neilu, Dracary’s” you said more firmly making the dragon move towards the two bodies, setting them on fire in an instant, you closed your eyes at the act, you felt the heat of Neilu’s flame on your skin, and the smell of burning bodies filled your nostril.
“Princess?” a voice said making you turn,” Lord Oden, what a pleasure,” you said wiping a tear from your face,” I’m sorry for your loss, I truly am,” he said bowing his head at you,” Thank you,” you said, you looked past him and saw your father still staring at the now burned bodies of your family,” Please if you excuse me,” you said, he nodded and you walked past him.” Y/n, you don’t need to act tough” Rex said as you stopped far away from the crowd,”I want to be alone Rex,” you said softly,” No you don’t, you need someone but you are just too stubborn and prideful to ask for it” he said, he placed his helmet on the ground and wrapped his arm around you, you didn't fight against his grip, instead, you melted into his embrace,” If only I was born a boy, my mother would be still alive and my father would be happy” you cried into his armour,” But you weren't and that’s okay, we don’t choose our destiny, I didn’t choose to be a fighter for the republic but here I am and I will do my best to protect the citizens of the republic. You will be great in whatever life will throw at you and I have a good feeling about it” he smiled rubbing your head gently, you smiled and looked up at him through your lashes, the sun of your planet illuminated his beautiful brown skin, his eyes which reminded you richest chocolate ever made, his lips looked so soft before you knew you pressed your lips against his. Rex was shocked, he knew he should be pushing you away but he couldn’t, instead, he pulled your body closer to his and kissed you deeper. One of his hands cupped the back of your head while the other held your cheek, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know what I was thinking” you said your face heating up at the action,”I don’t know either” he said, his face becoming darker,” Princess?” a maid called out, you moved away from Rex when she came closer,”Yes, your father calls for you in the Dragon Pit... alone” she said looking at Rex.
“You called for me?” your father turned around and smiled at you,” My dearest y/n, I want to apologise for the years of neglect of you, my wish for a male heir blinded me of you and eventually also killed your mother,” he said his voice cracking,” I should have appreciated you from the beginning” he placed a hand on your shoulder,” Dragon’s and us since the beginning of our race always had a special bond. Mostly the own who wears the crown,” he said touching the gold crown on his head,” Just like you have with your dragon, hatched inside of your cradle, you were only a few days old. She didn’t leave your side until she was to big for the castle. Y/N you are my only heir, a bad time is coming sooner and later and a dragon needs to hold the crown when these times come” he grabbed you by the shoulders and looked you in the eyes,” Dark times can only be helped by the fires of a dragon and their rider who has the blood of old Vulalis flowing through them, you understand me?” you nodded carefully making your father smile.
“We swear allegiance to Y/N of the House L/N, rightful heir to King K/N of House L/N of the Planet Vulalis” the Lords of your planet said together. Most of them had a look of anger or disappointment on their faces. You looked behind you and saw your father with a proud smile etched on his face.
“Congrats Princess, it was an honour to see you crowned heir of this planet,” Oden said approaching you,” Thank you, my Lord” you smiled, Rex was a few meters away from you, Cody was chatting to him but he wasn’t paying attention to what. His eyes were on you and the young knight,” Hey Rex” Cody said snapping his fingers in front of his brother's face to get his attention,” Sorry, what were you saying?” he said with furrowed brows, Cody sighed,” Forget it, Rex, your job is to make sure no one harms her and that’s it. We are soldiers of the Republic and she is a Princess who now is the heir to the throne of this planet. You are executed if they find-”,” Nothing happened, I’m just keeping an eye on her, that’s it” Rex shrugged but he knew Cody didn’t believe him but the older Clone didn’t harp on it,” Even if you have feelings, they don’t matter, the King want’s her to married soon, she needs her own heirs now” Cody said making Rex lick his lips.
“Princess, if I am your chosen match you wouldn’t have to worry about anything” you sighed and played with your rings as you listened to the old man's words,” My Lord, I have a question? Was my Great Grandmother as beautiful as everyone tells me?”,” Oh boy” your friends whispered underneath her breath,” I.. I’m not sure what you're talking about Princess it has been decades since your great grandmother passed”,” Yes it truly was” you smiled as people chuckled,” Princess, that was unnecessary” your friend whispered yelled,” He’s older than my father, he shouldn’t even be a contester for my hand, if I have to be married at least it should be to a guy who survives the honeymoon face” your friend sighed and looked forward,” Next”. A young boy stepped forward making your eyes furrow together,” Oh how lovely a child”,” He’s the son of the biggest planets in the Galaxy, it be a good alliance Princess” she whispered making you sigh, you looked at Rex who seemed to be slightly amused at your current suitor,” Princess if you chose me you will have no need of a protector as I will do my best in protecting you” he began shyly,” The Princess has a dragon, she needs no protection it’s even laughable that she needs to have a protector at her side” another young Lord said,” She doesn’t need a boy like you, she needs a man” he said puffing out his chest making you raise a brow,” A man? Tell me when you see one” the younger boy said making you gasp,”I like him” you whispered to your friend,” Say that again” the lord pulled out his sword making Rex jump into action,” Princess?” he said holding out his hand as a fight broke out between the two young Lords.
“So no contester?” your father asked, you shook your head, biting back a smile,” I had a feeling about so I provided you with a match which I see fit for you” your eyes widen, and you looked at Rex who has you a shrug,” Bring him in” your father commanded. “Oden,” you said surprised,” Yes Princess, I hope I will be the husband you wish,” he said with a smile which just made him more attractive,” I don’t wish for a husband”,” Enough with that, you are the heir of this throne and you will need heirs of your own. I don’t want to hear any complaints y/n, you will marry the young knight Oden and that’s it” your father said.
You walked towards your room with Rex close at your heel,” Don’t you have something to say about this?” you asked, he didn’t answer but just looked at you with his warm brown eyes. You huffed, an idea popped into your head, Rex’s helm was stuck under his arm before the Captain knew it you grabbed his helmet and ran off,” Hey, give it back” he called after you making you giggle. You ran into your room and closed the door behind you, soon the door swung open showing a slightly annoyed Rex,” Princess, my helmet please” he said reaching out for it but you pulled away from him,” Princess” he said again trying to reach for it but you were to fast and hid it behind your back,” What games are you playing y/n?” he said placing his hands on his hips,” Kiss me, Captain” you said batting your eyelashes at him,” Your engaged and I am a soldier of the republic” he said,” You deserve some fun, I deserve some fun with someone I care about” you pouted making Rex flush,” You care about me?” you nodded,”In the short time I knew you made yourself at home in my heart Rex” you sighed and handed Rex his helmet back, he took it and was about to walk out the door when suddenly turned around and pulled you into a kiss,” One night won’t harm us” he whispered against your lips before taking you to bed.
*1 and a half  years later*
“ A boy Princess,” a maid said handing you the crying infant, he has a tanned skin tone with tufts of blond hair,” Is he healthy?” you asked, the maid nodded, soon the door swung open revealing your husband,” What is it?” he asked excitedly,” A boy my Lord” a maid gushed,” A boy, how wonderful,” he said kneeling down beside your bed looking at the little bundle,” Can I hold him?” he asked you nodded and handed him the baby,” Tell the king about the birth of the child and send the word out to Captain Rex, he was looking forward to our son’s birth” you smiled seeing Oden smiling down at your son. The maids nodded and left the room leaving the three of you alone,” He has Rex’s hair” Oden said,” I hope it won’t cause trouble”,” You are the father Oden, Rex was just a fling” you said sadly soon after your wedding to Oden Rex’s mission was over, he didn’t need to protect you anymore you have a husband for that and he was desperately needed in the war, you slept with him one last time and that’s how your son was born, even though there was a slight chance that it could have been your husband, you knew deep down it belonged to handsome clone Captain. Oden found out about the affair as soon as you found out you were with child, you were worried that he would tell your father but he didn’t. He promised no matter the outcome he will be the father of the child. Rex said he would show up the second the child is born but he couldn’t help, even if he wanted too he couldn’t. If someone found out Rex would have been executed by both the republic and your planet.
“`He’s beautiful,” Rex said, it has been three days since you gave birth, Rex tried to come as soon as possible, and he bounced the boy in his arms gently,” Have a name for him?”,” Aegon after the first king” you smiled,” Well Aegon you will make a fine warrior one day” Rex smiled,” Just like his father” Rex smiled sadly,” I wish I could claim him as mine but I can’t,” he said, you smiled sadly at him,”I know, but try to be part of his family, just being there for important moments will be enough”,” I try my best but I am a soldier, my place is in the battlefield and my mission here is over,” he said looking at you gently,” but I will try my best, and maybe one day, once this all over.... we might have a chance” you smiled sadly, you pressed your lips against his,” I will wait for that moment, but until than Oden will make a great husband and father” you smiled,” I know he will, I am a good shot in case he isn’t” he chuckled handing you the baby before getting up to leave,” Goodbye Aegon” he said pressing a kiss against the babies hairline before he vanished through the door
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cienie-isengardu · 2 years
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My RepCom Musing: Men in kitchen... or lack of thereof
With more than twenty mouths to feed, meals at Kyrimorut had now acquired an industrial scale. The complex was more than a house. It was yaim-part barracks, part hotel, part married quarters, part farmhouse, the archetypal Mandalorian clan home. They were lucky that Laseema, Atin's Twi'lek wife, had worked in a restaurant and so could manage a kitchen. She knew all the complicated stuff about portion sizes and making sure everything was ready at the same time. Ny was happy to take orders from her.
Imperial Commando: 501st
I’m trying very hard to remember that this paragraph shows us the Ny’s POV but even then this does not put men of the RC series in a good light. I’m sorry but oh so genius NULLs who can create a complicated programs presumably based on mathematical algorithms to steal incredible amount of money from banks and who can pilot a hybrid of space and submarine ship just by reading manual couldn’t figure out how to deal with portion sizes or cooking two things at the same time? Even working together, in pairs or ya know, all the six super soldiers putting their big brain to use? I’m sorry, Mandalorian veterans who are soldiers and part of the army all their lives aren’t capable of going into the kitchen to make a proper meal for their family because 20 people to feed is such a horrible and difficult task? Laseema is awesome, sure, but she didn’t married Atin to be tied to kitchen because men apparently are fucking useless in this homestead. Not to mention she worked as waitress and sex-worker dancer, not as cook which is a huge difference between serving food and preparing it.
And yeah, Ny may just assume the Skirata clan is lucky to have Laseema to take care of things because feeding so many people is hard and she is doing so well, but I think it could be much easier if the men actually deign to come to help. Because when it comes to cooking meals, it is Laseema, Besany, Jilka, Ruu Skirata, Ny (on her own choice to help) and even Arla Fett:
In the kitchen, Vau, Uthan, and Gilamar sat at the table watching the holonews, while Besany and Jilka helped Arla serve up the meals. It was the first time Arla had joined them. She looked lost, but then a kitchen was a chaotic, noisy place after years in a padded cell.
Like, SERIOUSLY? I’m so angry I’m willing to quote all the moments when our female characters are mentioned closely tied to kitchen and cooking just to prove this point.
The only two (three) men I’m willing to give some slack are:
ATIN
Who gutted and most likely scraped the fish scales for Laseema:
Ny was surprised by the rebuke, but Jilka didn't snap back. She went on chopping, eyes fixed on the table. Atin came in carrying a plastoid bowl full of gleaming freshly caught fish.
"Kaminoans eat fish, don't they?" he said, as if he was having second thoughts. "I never asked back in Tipoca. We didn't eat with them."
Laseema picked up a fish by its tail. "Did you gut them properly?"
"Of course I did. And it's going to take me ages to get the smell off my hands."
"You're a darling. Now all I need is some gihaal stock to poach them in."
CORR
Corr poked his head around the kitchen door. Ny wondered if Jilka could tell all the clones apart yet.
"Can I hide in here, please, ladies?" He gave them his best cheeky-boy smile and swaggered in. "The atmosphere's a bit intense out there. Aiwha-bait alert."
"Since when does the kitchen have a FEMALES ONLY sign outside?" Jilka asked. "Make yourself useful, soldier."
Corr winked, took the knife from her hand, and began chopping with surprising speed and skill. The more surprising thing was that she let him.
and
"Who's for more eggs?" Corr yelled over the hubbub. He'd volunteered for kitchen detail with Ny this week, probably to impress Jilka, and Ordo decided it was working. She watched Corr when she thought he wasn't looking. "Make the most of these. The nuna can't keep up with you greedy shab'ikase. It'll be boiled mealgrain until they start laying again."
(and yeah, the first mention of Corr’s help was about him trying to hide in kitchen to avoid a tense atmosphere created by Kal meeting a Kaminoan Jedi survivor of Purge and later, he tried to impress Jilka but he at least was in the kitchen helping ladies)
and honorable mention of WALON VAU:
While Besany wrestled with dough, and Scout and Ruu sliced the haunch of shatual that Mird and Vau had hunted, Ny made igatli from scratch, following a recipe on a datapad propped on the kitchen table.
And yes, Fi, Parja and Corr hunted too and generally all members of the clan clan helped with fishing, but the text at least strongly suggests that Scout and Ruu got not so much as a hunted animal to deal with, but skinned (and gutted?) one so the meat is ready to be portioned for a meal or preserved to eat in the future.
That is. The three men who are apparently reliable. And surprise, surprise none of them is Kal or trained from start Kal’s boys. Geez.
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red-write-hand · 5 months
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Hey! I saw your requests were open! Maybe a older veteran clone trooper talks to a younger stormtrooper recruit? Sorry to bother you, have a good day!
alright, for clarification, as someone who has only really watched clone wars and some of bad batch, would it be the troopers from clone wars talking to the bad batch?? thank you so much, i’m so sorry my lovely human (and i adore you for requesting star wars)
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@winterinhimring and i have decided that the clone veteran in the kenobi show is named tripwire, which i feel is important to announce bc my brain is full of him and nothing else at the moment and i am so sorry to anyone who follows me but i’ve a feeling i’m going to be talking about him incessantly for - well, for the rest of my life, really XD 
(also y’all should go check out her fic for him: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39268551 it made me cry all over again and yet i got a little closure from it as well; i recommend it very strongly!!)
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too-lit-for-fanfic · 1 year
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Desiderium - Callosity
Part I of ?
Masterlist
Part II
* A lack of feeling, an emptiness of being. Felt in the aftermath of a great tragedy. *
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Disclaimer - DNI if under the age of 18. This is a dark and mature story involving themes of torture, substance abuse, addiction, trauma, PTSD, injury detail 
Not all of these will be present in each part of the story, but the warning still applies. Sorry for the long wait, we all have approaching exams so there won’t be any updates this month. This story will follow canon as much as possible, but there will be some deviations to make the relationship between Obi wan and the main character as realistic as possible. Please remember, the characters are written realistically, not just to be liked.
Word Count - 12K
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A long time ago, in a galaxy far far away, thousands of voices cried out, a cacophony of terror echoing across the galaxy until silence swathed the universe. The silence enveloped every known corner of the galaxy, the dead and dying left in its wake, their voices and cries lost to the growing emptiness left after destruction of an age and the birth of a new era, the birth of a new Empire. A galaxy once bustling with life now lay baron and destitute, the remnants of a bygone era scattered across the galaxy and hidden for their own safety under the constant threat and the watchful eye of the new Empire.
The known galaxy lies festering in the wake of a new dark age, teetering towards an age of no return. Those left, themselves becoming cruel and ruthless to survive in such an age, neighbour turning on neighbour, husband turning on wife, sister turning on brother, the eyes of the empire inhabiting every crack and crevice artfully carved into all strongholds of refuge of the bygone age. 
A remnant of the bygone era glowered at Aeris, beads of sweat dripping down the retired Clone Trooper’s weathered face as her gloved finger pressed tightly on the trigger of her blaster, aimed directly at the older mans head, the muscles in her hand twitching with the restraint to not pull the trigger.
“I’m not one for killing war veterans.” Sand whipped up at the pair, battering their clothes and skin like millions of shards of glass, yet the gales that buffeted against them offered no relief from the overbearing sun, of which Aeris could feel the exposed skin on her extended arm burning under its ferocity. “But you won’t be the first.”
“And I won’t be the last.” The man called back, shouting over the gales of the tempest he had tried to flee into, and now found himself trapped in. His voice was hoarse but firm, carrying over the roar of the sands with well-versed practice gained from years of experience on the cruelest battlefields seen in an age. A general without an army, a soldier without a cause, a man whose purpose died with the fall of the Jedi order. He struggled to form words with his parched mouth, his lips cracking and bleeding with every twist of his tongue. “You’re delusional if you think I’ll go without a fight. You’ll have to kill me.” He paused, his overgrown dark locks, speckled with more grey and white than colour whipping into his face and eyes as he glowered at the young woman before him, both hands clasped around the worn grip of a rusted blaster. “You’re young, you have time - take another bounty, don't make me kill you.”
“Bargaining?” Her voice lilted with mockery, disappointed disbelief carried on a raspy tune. Sand continued to whip into the thick air, the Clone Trooper squinting as her dark halo flittered through the fog. “Coward.”
And then she was gone. 
The Clone Trooper spun on his heel, blaster and eyes scouring the horizon for a dark shadow amongst the crimson gusts of sand, chocking the air and blinding the sun. The deafening thrum of blood pumping through his veins and the battering of his heart against his chest rose to a paralysing crescendo as his eyes flitted across the horizon, the bounty hunter hidden within the storm. His breaths came erratic and shallow, gulping as much sand as oxygen as terror clawed at his chest and throat, beads of sweat trailing along his stained and dirtied brow. A bolt darts aimlessly into the storm, illuminating the crimson air and sand with a shock of blue before disappearing into the distance. His weathered knuckles turn white against the hilt of the blaster, palms slick with sweat. He steps back, and again, and again, sand pooling around his ankles and filling his boots.
“You think yourself a hero?” He calls scornfully into the hazy abyss, yelling to the wind. “Fight me with honour! Not deaf and blind!”
Something startles him to his left and he fires blindly, breaths choked and laboured, sweat-soaked hair falling into his stinging eyes. 
A hand reaches from the darkness, thin and pale, clasping his shoulder and wrenching him back as a leg sweeps his feet from under him. The man screeches, firing blindly as he tumbles, more focussed on fending off an attack than catching his fall. He scrambles to stand, blaster aiming wildly. He sees the bolt before he feels it, the thick air around him illuminated by a brilliant blue before a searing pain tears through his left knee and calf, the smell of scorched flesh filling his nose before he hit the floor. He screams and flails, dirtied hands clasping at his ruined knee as a dark figure materialises above him, head tilted forward, empty red-rimmed eyes gazing down at him. They flicker to the discarded blaster by his side. 
“I’m not here to make you a martyr.” She mocks lowly, stepping over the writhing man’s thin frame and kicking his blaster into the hazed distance with a lazy sweep of her right leg. Some sand kicks into his eyes with the effort, and he groans at the familiar sting.
“No, no, that is reserved for heroes.” She crouches low, blocking the white-hot sun as her shadow casts across his face, her short dark locks dance around her features, buffeted by the hot wind and sharp sand. The lines of age around the Trooper’s umber eyes deepen with every wince and grimace, squinting up at her figure. “And you?” A gloved hand raps against the yellow pauldron on his right shoulder before returning to binding a wire around his wrists “You may be a veteran, but you are far from a hero.”
“So now what?” The man struggles as she hauls him to his feet by the scruff of his tattered jacket, his feet sliding uselessly against the loose sand, hands pulling taught against his binds. “Bury me out here? Not a soul to know of what happened to me? I bet you’ve done this more times than you can count you bantha-riding-”
A sharp shove in the centre of his lower back nearly sends the ex-trooper hurtling down the dunes below as he yelps and scrambles, bound and bloody hands grasping at the air uselessly. 
A firm grip on his bicep hauls him back into place, the firmness of the bounty hunter’s grip surely to leave a bruise, if he were to live long enough. “Your insults are wasted on me - I’m here to collect a payment, nothing more, nothing less. Any damage to my precious cargo reduces my pay.”
He refuses to take another step forward, leaning back against her gloved hand on his right shoulder, brows nit together as he desperately thinks of a way to flee, even despite his bound hands and ruined leg. Aeris sighs deeply, jamming her charged blaster into the small of the man’s back, the cold metal barrel causing goose bumps to raise on the back of his sweat-soaked neck.  “But a delivery of cargo, no matter how broken, is better than no delivery at all.” Her covered features are mere inches from the trooper’s ear, her silvery voice slicing through the roaring of the dunes, hissing a venomous promise matching the coolness of the blaster’s hilt. He swallows despite the itching dryness of his throat. 
He takes a faltering step forward, and a mocking hum falls from her concealed lips. 
“You fucking scum-”
“Save your breath.” She kicks the heel of his injured leg, silencing him with a yelp as he stumbles forward. “You’ll be needing it to beg for mercy soon enough. Best not waste it on insulting me.” 
The pair trudged their way through the chocking sandstorm, Aeris’ blaster indignantly pressed into the small of her bounty’s back the entire journey, index finger lazily resting against the trigger. An eternity later, the pair leave the harrowing storm behind them, raging on in the bowls of the endless desert. Though seemingly a blessing, the air and their throats no longer clogged with dust and their eyes no longer scraped by millions of shards of glass, there was no longer any protection from the sun. It hung white-hot and searing in a cloudless vastness, an endless white heat against an even paler sky. 
The sand that had once beat against them ceaselessly clung to their slim frames and cotton clothes, staining their skin sanguine and the Troop’s white armour a scorched pale pink. Sweat trickled down Aeris’ neck, her dark clothes attracting the heat like fruit-flies to a bruised apple. She tugged uncomfortably at her collar, slicked to her neck with sweat and licked her lips with a parched tongue, only tasting salt and sand. During the long journey she had toyed with the idea of just shooting the trooper and leaving him to the vastness of the desert, his limping and groaning prolonging the journey and brooding an agitated headache at her temples - the slowness was infuriating, the heat was maddening, the fact she could have been in the cool confines of her ship, chasing a bounty on a far cooler planet was incensing. She glared emptily at the back of his head, his sand-caked hair swishing with every step, promises of food and fortune keeping her finger from pulling the trigger. Aeris watched crimson droplets disappear into the crimson sand.
The horizon rippled in the distance, the town they searched for seemingly further and further with each laboured step. The Trooper panted and gasped, one hand clutching at his thigh in a weak attempt to quell the rippling pain as the other dragged along his forehead, wiping the sweat from his brow. Fleeing into the desert had seemed like a favourable idea at the time, he had neglected to consider the journey back. Though infuriated by the journey, and the cocky bounty-hunter with their blaster burrowed into his back, at least he knew she was as miserable as him, and that felt like some sort of win. 
Civilisation was close, small sandstone and wooden sun-bleached shacks rising in an unsteady haze in the distance, small dark silhouettes flitted from building to building. The Trooper eyed some grotesque four-legged creature drinking from a sandstone trough, poorly roped to a large rotten wooden beam buried into the sand. He watched the water splash from the gully with sunken eyes, half-considering joining the beast just to quell the retched dryness of his throat. Aeris followed his gaze with her own, tilting her head at the creature, smirking to herself, and pushing the man along. The pair continued on the dirt-path, the locals eyeing the newcomers from beneath peaked hoods and floppy broad-rimmed hats - upon noticing the blaster attached to Aeris’s hip, and the other held languidly in her hand, the crowds dispersed, retreating to the cool confines of their squatted homes. 
“You should’ve dressed like them.” Aeris jokes disdainfully, catching the eyes of a young girl peering from an empty doorway, cream and white cloth, stained by the crimson sand, wrapped around her thin tan frame like a bandage. “Changed out of this ridiculous gear - who still wears pre-Empirial uniforms anyway?” She knocks the hilt of her blaster against his pauldron to emphasise her point. 
“Not all of us have the money to simply buy other clothes.” He rasps, face pinching into a sour expression, fury bubbling under the surface - he had already been caught, the last thing he wanted to hear was how he could have hid better. “Not all of us are willing to hunt and kill the innocent to gain a few coins.”
Aeris’ chokes at the irony, a disbelieving laugh heaving her chest as her mouth twists into a cynical smile. “Says the one who destroyed the Jedi.” She forces him to turn left down a shadowed alley. “Such a shame all those younglings weren’t innocent enough for you.”
“That was different.”
“I kill criminals, you murdered sleeping children, and yet you preach to me?”
“You question the Empire?” He sounds scornful, like an elder aghast at the ways of the young. 
“The Republic was tired and worn, the Empire is murderous and cruel - I like neither, but I prefer the lesser of two evils.”
He goes to retort, brows furrowed and head turning, but the blaster raising to the nape of his neck silences him. “Shut it. Your self-righteousness makes my head ache, and it’s becoming far too tempting to shoot you.”
Aeris guides her bounty through the narrowing streets of the small town, a hand clasped firmly against his shoulder forcing him wherever she wished, his useless leg struggling to keep pace with her long strides, dragging through the sand. The shade the many alley’s provided was a brief reprieve from the sizzling heat, but the air remained warm and thick, their clothes and hair sticking to their sweat-slicked bodies. 
“Stay.” The dark haired woman shoves the Trooper harshly against a sandstone wall, pointing purposefully at his feet. His hands slide against the rough wall, propping himself against the sturdy structure. He turns indignantly, biting the inside of his cheek to refrain from speaking. 
Aeris’ focus had already turned to the wooden slat door before her, rasping a pattern against the door, its whole frame shaking with each knock. The slat slides into the left-hand wall, disturbingly intense large black eyes glinting from the shadows peaked around the doorway, a cloth-wrapped hand gripping the slat’s side. Aeris’ glassy amber eyes focus on the shadowed figure, bright and attentive yet unimpressed. The figure didn’t speak. Aeris’ right eyebrow raised.
“Camber! What the fuck are you doing staring out the door?!” A gravelly voice echoed from somewhere behind the beady eyes.
“There’s a red woman at the door.” The apparently young child responds, still shaded and mostly hidden behind the makeshift door. “With a blaster.” A pause. “And a man.”
Suddenly the door is wrenched open by significantly more aged hands, the piece of wood shaking comically in its sheath in the wall. An old man, dressed similarly to the young boy in white and cream cloth, sends an attempted welcoming smile in Aeris’ direction, hands clasping the young boy by either shoulder. 
“My apologies Ms Aeris, the boy is still learning his manners. Especially those towards our most valued guests.” His grip on the boys shoulders tighten as the young woman watches with bored eyes, use to the fake pleasantry and more concerned with escaping the heat. “Please come in, your friend as well.” He beckons her in with a bony hand, and as she retrieves the Trooper, guiding him by his bound wrists into the small abode, she can hear the old man scolding the boy in another room, accompanied by the familiar smack of wood against skin. 
The centre room was dark and squat, the ceiling low and draped in tapestry and sheets, the same thin cotton hung across every window to provide some relief from the hot air outside. Three narrow doorways had been carved into the sandstone walls of the room, separated by more sheets of cheap cotton, and the floor resembled the crimson sand outside, only compacted through use and firmed with age. In the centre sat a wooden table accompanied by wooden chairs, all sun-bleached and poorly crafted, cracked and flaking, and a torn rug with another smaller table and an equally ill-constructed bench sat at the furthest point of the room, left over berries and grains in woven baskets abandoned in the corner upon the pairs’ arrival.
Aeris forces the trooper into a wooden seat and ensures his hands are in sight above the table before she takes her own seat. She sighs in relief as she tugs a black cloth from her face, breathing in the cool air deeply through her mouth and nose, rolling her feet inside her thick shoes, tingling with the relief of finally sitting down, completely basking in the coolness the shade provides. The old man emerges not a moment later, a stick of poorly shaped wood serving as a cane as he hurries toward the centre table where Aeris had already sat, the Trooper next to her, bound hands flat against the wooden table. 
“I see the sandstorm wasn’t kind to you.” He half jests, wooden cane motioning towards the red that stained her skin.
“Sand is never kind.” She remarks back, a hand dragging through her dark locks, roughly shaking some sand free.
“I apologise again,” He mutters as he eases himself into his own seat, the wood creaking under his thin frame. “he is young and still learning - terrible memory for our ‘important visitors’ does not help things.”
“Nothing to apologise for, we all have to learn.” She leans back in her chair, arm resting against its back and legs crossed languidly, left ankle on her right knee. “I’m guessing a grandson of yours? He wasn’t here when I arrived.” Aeris starts conversationally, always one to ensure good relations to those she might further need.
“Yes, he was visiting family in the town over. Seems to have forgotten all his training while away.” The old man mutters bitterly, but a fondness remains in his wrinkled features, pale and streaked from years of sun damage. 
“There’s plenty of time for this sort of thing.” The brunette waves her hand around the room dismissively, finally motioning to herself. “He seems only young-” The boy emerges from a room, eyes puffy, with a tray of cups, a jug full of sand-coloured water, and a small pot of steaming tea. Aeris offers a gentle smile. “-and a fine little helper.”
“Eight this year.” The man takes a glass from the boy, and motions him towards their visitors. “I’ll make a useful man out of him yet- discipline is key, best to start when they’re young.”
The boy shuffles over cautiously, holding out the tray from which Aeris and the Trooper both take a glass of water. As she reaches for her own glass, Aeris’ gaze flits over the boy - he was thin, alarmingly so, swathed in cloth far too big for his small stature and height, his cheeks, one bruised, still held onto his puppy-fat, and his hair matched the darkness and richness of his wide eyes, hanging in thick curls around his pale face. She attempts to smile at the boy, though the thin pale scar that ran through the right side of her mouth may have made it resemble more of a grimace.
“Thank you, Camber.” At the use of his name, appearing shocked at her remembering it, the young boy scuttles back to his grandfather, standing shyly and rosy-cheeked behind his chair, large eyes barely peaking over his shoulder. 
“Now, I assume you haven’t travelled all this way just to trade pleasantries. I take it you’re ready to leave?” The old man sips from his drink as he talks, eyeing the Trooper warily. The Trooper gulps from his own glass like a man dying of thirst, but his own dark coppery gaze still watches the exchange between his captor and whoever this man was. 
“Yes.” Aeris places her glass down, now empty, a hand coming to grasp the Trooper by the hair on the nape of his neck, forcing him to stop drinking and tilt his head back, standing and forcing him to raise from his own seat. “As usual, you may take anything from the cargo you wish-” She pauses, as if remembering, hand still tugging painfully at his hair as she drags him back into his seat. “No body parts this time,” The Trooper lurches in his seat, heart leaping into his throat. “special requirement, I’ve got to keep him in the best shape possible.”
“I’m not cargo-” He begins, but a purposeful knock of her right knee against his injured knee has him hissing and silent.
“The armour - the pauldron and the kamas. Shame he hasn't got more but it’ll do.”
“Coverage of full price?”
“Coverage of full price.” He agrees, extending a hand which she shakes firmly. She was well aware that the price of just those two pieces of armour far surpassed the general price of storage, but she was more than happy to oblige, especially given leniency with past short-payments - sometimes loot was favourable, sometimes less so. Besides, she’d make more credits from his delivery alone, no need to be greedy.
After a few more moments of idle chat, the pair, Aeris dragging the Trooper along by his bound hands that had now become chafed and bloody, followed their host into a backroom, where he opened a wooden latch in the floor, a tunnel carved into the sandstone leading into a shadowed cavern. The old man heads down first, scuttling down the rickety ladder with ease, Aeris and the Trooper leaning over the hole, watching a small flickering fire-light appear in its depths. 
“You next.” She nudges her cargo towards the tunnel. “What? Get moving.” “You’re not going to untie my hands? I need them.” “Make it work.” A firm hand on his shoulder has him reluctantly backing into the tunnel, brow furrowed in concentration and jaw tense. After a few moments of silence the brunette descends the ladder, appearing in a low tunnel with pale fluorescent lights tied to the ceiling. The old man holds a small oil-lamp, combatting the dimness. The hand-crafted tunnel is long and dim, cool still air causing goosebumps to raise on Aeris’ sweat-sticky skin, the familiar scent of damp sand enveloping the corridor. After a few minutes of silent walking the trio emerge into a large natural cavern, sunlight from the mouth of the rocky ravine casting against the back wall, the trio, and the contents of the cavern, hidden by its twisted cave-dotted entrance. Boxes of indiscernible building materials and supplies lay scattered about the dark ravine, most covered by a thick layer of orange dust, parts of old fighter ships and carrier vessels half-dismantled piled up against every wall. In the centre sat a small angular U-wing starfighter with faded dark green markings on its main body and wings. Like the rest of the ravine, a thick layer of orange dust had settled across its frame. 
“She looks better.” Aeris notes happily, abandoning the two men to admire her ship, exposed fingers and gloved palm sliding along its right side. Her square shoulders drop with relief, some of the tension she always carried easing with the familiarity of home.
“Good as new.” The old man remarks, placing his small lamp on a nearby crate. “Repairs were minimal, the damage was mostly aesthetic, luckily.” Aeris nods along, amber eyes scrutinising his handiwork, delighted, but not surprised, to see even the smallest scuffs having been repaired. “No more battering this poor thing - I’m good at my job, I’m not a miracle worker.”
“Elliejil,” She almost scoffs, and it takes the Trooper a minute to realise that jarbled rubbish was the damn old man’s name. “are you insinuating I don’t take care of my ship?”
“What the fuck are you even doing with that thing, do you have any idea how many repairs I had to make? I had to replace the inlet valve! Do you have any idea how hard that is to damage?!” He jests good-naturedly, but a seriousness overlaps his tone. “Stop hurtling into whatever fight you see. You’re a valued customer, whose coin I would miss dearly.” He points a shrivelled hand in her direction, before gesturing more angrily towards the ship. “And though your expectations flatter me, I am not a miracle worker.”
Within minutes the ship is fully loaded, Elliejil offering a small bag of dried fruits as a good-will gift until their next arrangement, and the Trooper, now stripped of his little armour, is cuffed to a seat in the ship’s small lobby, left eyeing a deceptively inconspicuous bag on a metallic table to his left. Aeris stands at the entrance to the ship, a small purse of credits in hand. She throws it towards Elliejil, meeting his weathered gaze with a slight nod. “To the deaf.”
He grins, though there was no need for the code amongst the pair, he echoed its response. “To the blind.”
---
The galaxy streamed past the windshield of the agile U-Wing in ribbons of white, lighting the small cockpit with a familiar pale glow. The galaxy was quiet, as always, with only the whirring of the engine and the cockpits internal mechanisms beeping in cadence filling the still silence. Aeris sat comfortably in the pilot’s chair, one leg resting on an unimportant piece of the console and the other bent under herself, the lights of the galaxy reflecting in her wide gaze, as she sat quietly, as she often did, watching stars and planets and entire galaxy’s glimmer past. 
The U-wing is a small and agile ship, utilised by resistance members as both a transport shuttle and fighter ship during periods of conflict, though neither as large as a Frigate or as fast as an X-wing. Aeris’ U-wing was worn and weathered, its leather seats fraying, its console scratched and faded, but it felt like home. Souveniers and, by all means, junk, lay strewn across the entire ship, hung from any exposed wiring or rivets and crammed onto divots of the metal-sheathed walls, causing the patchy steelwork to appear more as purposeful shelfs and cubby-holes than damage that had never been repaired. A table and worn booth had been fixed into the centre of the ship’s hull that in typical star fighters remained empty for more floor space for cargo or troops - Aeris had sacrificed the space in a tactical decision of comfort and the fact she had only ever dealt with, at maximum, three bounty’s at a time. On the far back wall of the lobby sat her makeshift bedroom. A layer of old blankets and a tattered pillow lay atop the circular inlet of the circular door leading to the reactor power plant at the furthermost back of the ship. It was neither comfortable nor lavish, but a sheet hung across the back wall of the hull gave the small cubby a sense of security and privacy she found invaluable. 
It had been several hours since the ships departure from Abafar, a desolate, unassuming planet at one of the furthest points of the outer-rim, and Aeris had settled into a state of near-peace, her head fully rested against the beaten head-rest of her seat, her aching and tense shoulders sloping with the ease of being back home, her domain - she manned the ship, out here, in the vastness of the galaxy, she was in control, with immense power rumbling just beneath her fingertips, the steady comforting thrum of the power reactor offering a sense of calm she could not last recall. However, unlike usual, she was not alone, her eyebrows knitting together in mounting frustration at another groan and shuffle from the main hull, her bounty becoming more and more restless throughout the journey. Her eyes wonder back to the starry sky before her but a resonating clang from the hull has her springing from her seat, right hand clasping the blaster at her hip as she turns to the ship’s main compartment, hidden from the cockpit by a raggedy cloth draped from the rafters of the ceiling to offer some privacy. 
Flinging the cloth to the side she steps down into the main hull, her heavy boots clanging against the thin metal floor as her eyes land on the hunched trooper, strewn in a heap on the floor, right wrist still cuffed and arm twisted at an unseemly angle. The Trooper stiffens, wide eyes glaring up at her towering figure illuminated in the entryway, the new pain blossoming in his arm all but forgotten at seeing her figure looming close, his breath dying in his throat. A few tense beats of silence pass. 
“You’re bleeding all over my floor.”
The Trooper almost chokes as she takes a step forward, her dark eyes surveying the growing pool of dark blood covering both the seat and floor, a steady stream of crimson flowing from his knee, newly aggravated with his tumble. He attempts to raise back onto his seat, good leg shaking with the effort to hoist himself back up, but every twist caused more painful pangs across his shoulder and chest, hand numbing with the increasing pain. He grimaces, wide eyes staring up at the young woman’s figure, a poor swamp-rat caught in a hunter’s trap.
Aeris leans down, dark locks falling into her face, and he freezes, flinching away from the woman as she encroaches, the sound of blood pumping through his veins drowning out all rational thought as a hand grips his twisted shoulder. Fuck. Why couldn’t he just sit still - what did he think he was going to do? Get free? Then what? Stupid, fucking-
Click.
The cuff binding him to the seat falls away, his arm springing free to be cradled to his chest as Aeris returns to her full height. She watches with a flat gaze, looping the binding back onto its secure place on her belt. With startling ease she hoists the man back onto his assigned seat with her free arm, eyes once again flitting down to the pool of crimson now encircling her own shoes, raising back to the man with nothing short of disdain. 
“Stay.” Her grip on his jacket fades, slender hand hanging limp, yet ready, at her side.
His head tilts as she turns to a nearby shelf, not bothering to rebind him. His gaze flits to an empty bottle strewn next to the table, well within reach. He clears his throat subtly, wide gaze flitting back to the other figure in the room, landing on the blasters holstered at her sides.
“You’re not going to bind me?” He questions deftly, still cradling his wrist to his chest, injured leg strewn out in front of him. 
“Now why,” She doesn’t even turn to regard him. “would I do that?” She approaches with a small modulator in hand, along with an unlabelled bottle of some dark liquid. When her coppery gaze lands on the man, stiff and hunched, streaked with red yet a sickly pale beneath the stain, a mocking smirk tugs at her thin lips. She regards him with a sweeping gaze as she falls into the seat opposite. “You like to think you pose a threat to me?” 
The sheer undulated mocking disbelief in her voice has him startling. His lips part in both anger and fear.
“Now is not the time to think yourself a hero, old man.”
He blanches at the remark, his hands balling into fists in his lap, knuckles whitening beneath the blood that stained them. Aeris continues fiddling with the modulator, laconically typing away some code in some language he couldn’t understand, shoulders slack and head tilted, one leg crossed over the other in a pose akin to that of a bored teenager. Fury bloomed in his chest, overtaking the fear that had festered within since his capture: she was bored. She didn’t regard him as a threat, much less as warranting her attention: a man bread for battle, with a weapon within reach. A muscle ticks in his jaw as his gaze burns holes into the side of her head, unblinking, the bottles between them calling his name.
He shifts, hands inching closer to the bottles within reach, fighting a battle of logic and pride, sense and incense, fear against bravery- or rather, stupidity. The silence and beeping of the hull only adds to his frustration. 
“If you’re so tempted, try it.” The trooper flinches as her voice penetrates the silence. She still doesn’t look up. “Go on. My blasters are holstered and my hands are full.”
“Your youth betrays you with your misplaced confidence.”
She scoffs, air blowing from her nose as she grins, continuing to tap away. “I have faced far bigger bounty’s than you in my time, uninjured, young, strong - I dare you.”
The first bottle the Trooper throws smashes just to the right of the brunette, showering her in shards of glass. The second bottle flies uselessly past her face, shattering against the furthest wall and spraying the ceiling in the remnants of whatever dark liquid lay inside. The third bottle doesn’t leave his hand, remaining poised in an iron-clad grip, the fury and confidence falling from him in a tidal wave as a blaster aims straight for his chest. Aeris sits with an indiscernible emotion plastered across her pale features, head tilted to the side and ankles crossed, her boots resting against the table-top that separated the pair. Her finger rests over the trigger.
The third bottle falls to the floor.
“Kill me, get on with it.”
Goose-bumps raise over the entire Trooper’s body, sweat rippling down his sand-caked back. His gaze remains stead-fast on the woman before him, the blaster a mere blur as he watches a trickle of blood pool from a small cut on her cheek - at least he had achieved something, no matter how futile. 
Her head cocks further to the side, right eyebrow raising as a lock of hair falls into her face.
“You really do disappoint me. You all do.”
Her laconicity spurs his fury once more. “You crazy bitch. Do you get off on this you sick freak? Tying down the helpless, offering their bodies as payment to your peers, guiding them to slaughter like some pathetic-”
During his outburst, the slender brunette had risen from her seat and approached with heavy steps, the Trooper too blinded by fury, embarrassment  and fear to really pay attention. He only stops when a fist connects with his nose, his head snapping to the side and spittle flying. A firm grip on his hair has him turning back to the woman looming over him.
“Your age disgraces you with your arrogance.” She mocks his insult from earlier, a satisfied smirk pulling at her lips. “Was that your great master plan you’ve been forming ever since I tied you to this seat?” She yanks on his hair harder, and he grunts, eyes already brimming with instinctual tears from the broken nose, now twisted at an unseemly angle. “Throw some bottles at me?” She plucks a shard of glass up from the table top, holding him in place as she caresses his under-eye, scratching lightly at the skin. “I knew you would throw one - it was written across your face even before I tied you here - but then I thought you’d lunge. Put up a fight, that’s what they usually do.”
The shard of glass slips lower, pressing into his jaw and sliding behind his ear. He can hear the blood she is about to spill, mocking him with its resonant thud against his aching skull.
“You seem to have forgotten who I am.“ The glass shard follows the length of his jugular. “Now, I admire the actions of a dead man, and I understand you aren’t quite in your right mind right now - I don’t think I’d be either. But really? Throw a few bottles and hope for the best? I’m insulted.”
She suddenly releases him, glass shard falling forgotten to the floor. His wide eyes never leave her dark gaze.
“You failed. That bottle you decided to smash against my wall contained a sedative I was going to offer you before I handed you over - numb the pain of interrogation a little bit - but I guess you didn’t want it.” The Trooper’s mouth falls open, blood staining his lips as he gapes like a fish, mind running blank. “No more games.” Her eyes slide to the floor. “On you knees.”
It takes a second, and a well-placed hand on the handle of her blaster, before the Trooper obliges, collapsing with a wince before her. She binds both of his hands this time, attaching them to a floor joining underneath the sofa, tight enough for him to already begin to loose feeling in his wrists. He had remained deathly silent throughout the entire process but as she stands he opens his mouth, voice stuffy from the broken nose.
“How do I know you’re not lying. Anything could have been in that bottle.”
She glances down at him, gaze turning to the liquid that still dripped from the ceiling into small puddles, before focusing back on the kneeling man.
“I guess you’ll never get to find out.”
With a role of her shoulders she turns briskly on her heel, heading back towards the cockpit.
“Prepare yourself, we’re landing soon.”
Fear spikes up the Trooper’s spine, the hair at his nape raising and goosebumps rippling across his skin. Of course he would be handed over, but to know the end was near was truly terrifying.
“Who is it?” He calls after her retreating figure, raising higher onto his knees. “The old man back on Abafar said his name didn’t he- Val Vender. That’s who placed my bounty? I don’t even know the man.”
“Val Vondar.” The brunette turns back to the trooper, venom lacing the name. “He’s not a man. He’s a very powerful Quarren.”
“And what does he want?” The man was desperately grabbing at straws, trying to peace together a story and prepare answers to a future interrogation. “Why does he want me if I’ve never even met him?”
“How should I know? That’s not my job.” A beat of silence, Aeris gnaws on her lip for a second, catching herself and pretend to wipe something from her lips. “But put it this way- I don’t hunt Clone Troopers, it’s not what I do.” Disbelief takes over the kneeling-mans weathered face. “But Vondar has offered me payment worth far more than this simple bounty, worth more than I could turn away, because he knows I’m good at my job, and he knows you would be delivered true to my word. I don’t know what he wants, and I don’t care, but know that whatever he wants, he’s willing to sacrifice a great amount for it.”
This does little to quell the Trooper’s nerves, in fact, he feels as though his heart might burst from his chest at any moment, perspiration beginning to form along his brow.
“And he didn’t want you.” Aeris resumes her path towards the cockpit, a hidden crease forming between her brows. “He wanted an ex-Clone Trooper, any Clone Trooper. I’m afraid you did the worst job at covering your tracks, if I’d have found another they would have sufficed.” 
The Trooper feels as though he’s been slammed into by a Sand-Crawler, as though the universe had been stripped beneath him and he was falling to an endless chasm, as though his very organs had withered in his chest. His mind races with so many thoughts that he draws a blank, staring wide-eyed and slack-jawed at the woman’s retreating figure. The Trooper calls after her but silence greets him, left to survey the glass and liquid strewn about the hull, with nothing but the chiming of the ship and the steady drip-drop of his own misfortune to keep him company.
---
Within the hour the U-wing starfighter had been docked at some small, questionable and locally-run holding bay, a small bag of credits and a murmur of ‘To the deaf’ thrown to the approaching male Twi’lek.
Aeris tugged the Trooper along, guiding him by his cuffed hands through the bustling streets of Daiyu, a planet covered in growing city-scapes and heaving with the masses. Daiyu was an incredibly developed planet, sky-scrapers looming over its inhabitants, flashing electronic signs covered every visible inch, patrons and owners alike beckoning those meandering the busy streets into their shrouded establishments, grasping at drunken wanderers and curious tourists alike. The air hung thick with smog and filth, preventing all manners of natural light from reaching the planet’s surface, the lowest levels constantly in a state of darkness. The further you descended to the planet’s surface, the grimier the structures, the fewer and less-modified the vehicles and the more beggarly the inhabitants. Truly a place to disappear.
Aeris herself adorned a mask of her own, a sleek metallic form-fitting mask that covered her entire head, a faded yellow visor obscuring her hazel eyes, and dark green markings, similar to that on her ship, painted across her brow and along the nape of the helmet, the mouth piece covering her lips and chin painted as well. She had also swapped clothes from their earlier excursion, adorning brown loose-fitting combat trousers with numerous belts along her hips and upper-thighs, the same thick and weathered laced boots, a black short-sleeve top and a chestnut aviator jacket - only her exposed skin remained tinted with a hint of red. She weaved between bodies of all shapes and sizes, all colours and creeds, and all in various states of dishevelment. The streets were so busy, and occupants so lost within their own hedonism, nobody paid any mind to the beaten and bloody man being dragged through the squalid streets, a trail of blood quickly disappearing into the grime of the pavement. Those that did spare him a glance of concern quickly disappeared back into the fold as soon as their eyes landed on the dual blasters hanging from Aeris’ hips.
Much like on Abafar, Aeris led the way with long purposeful strides, one hand stuffed into her jacket pocket whilst the other tugged against the Trooper’s bindings, the slowing man forced to limp and stagger behind her in the hopes of keeping up to release the pressure on his raw wrists. The Trooper is completely lost, meaninglessly surveying those around him as he dutifully follows along, the ship so far away he had no chance of finding his way back even if he managed to free himself. Lost in his musings of those around him, and rather unimpressed, he all but crashes into Aeris’ back as she abruptly halts, wincing and peering round her shoulder to see the matter. A young girl, no older than 16 stands before Aeris, a large coat hanging from her thin frame and large, and full, satchels draped across both shoulders. 
Aeris goes to side-step the young girl, but she begins talking before she can even take a step - Aeris’ hand falls to her belt. 
“Miss, I’ve all types of spice, powders, fauna and crystals for sale. I guarantee you won’t find a better price on this side of the planet.” The girl rattles on, sunken eyes flitting around Aeris’ figure, and her fingers twitching at her sides. 
Instead of denying and continuing on, as the Trooper had thought, Aeris inclines her head, hand returning back to her pocket.
“And why should I believe you have the best prices?”
The girl’s bloodshot eyes widen and she grins, baring yellowed teeth, at the prospect of a sale. “You see, Miss, every item I sell is a point, and they all have different points: red spice and a lot of fauna powders are only 1 point, they’re common and cheap, there’s no profit. Then things like Glitterstim, Ryll and deathsticks,” she pulls a luminescent vile from her breast pocket before stashing it away again. “are 3 points, and then snuff and serious stuff like SLV and Guilea is 6 points - when I get 5 points I get a 1 point item for free, and if I save for 30 I get a 6 point item. The cheaper I can sell the quicker I can get points.”
Aeris grins to herself behind the mask. “I don’t imagine your employer’s happy.”
“The money doesn’t matter to me, and as long as he gets his money it’s okay.”
The Trooper waits boredly, swaying on the spot as he watches the transaction, still half-believing his captor was toying with the girl and they’d leave empty handed. It was rather sad really, and if he had any capacity to think of anything that his looming death, he would have pittied the girl, evidently wired on some substance he didn’t know, far too gone to be helped. He was shocked again when Aeris’s hand dug into the inner pocket of her jacket.
“I’ll take a vial of Sweetblossom and a tab each of Glitterstim and SLV-16.”
The girl grins wider, unzipping her bag. “I like a customer who knows what they want - so much better than the tourists who don’t have a clue.”
The girl immediately pulls a vial full of white powder from one of the satchels, followed by a small opaque paper bag and a vial of bright blue powder from her inner-coat pocket. 
“200 credits, please.”
“200?” Aeris questions, shifting her weight to her right leg. 
“You’re getting SLV-16 - the Empire’s been ruining our supply for all their fucking interrogations. I can do SLV-88 instead, which’ll be 152.”
“No chance.”
The Trooper watches, disbelieving, as Aeris hands over the absurd amount of credits and stashes her new toys away, pocketing the vials and bag in a concealed reinforced leather pouch inside her jacket. The girl scurries away, smile permanently etched onto her thin face, in search of her next customer.
“Should she just be selling that in broad daylight?” The Trooper questions deftly, stumbling up a lip in the pavement as they resume their trek.
“Anything’s legal here. If you arrested everyone who cut or dealt drugs, there’d be no customers.” 
“It’s a bad habit.” 
Aeris doesn’t grace him with a response, but her grip tightens on his wrists. 
---
Throughout their journey the heaving streets barely same to wane, the pair fighting their way - or, Aeris fighting her way through the crowds, dragging a man behind her - up until they halt at a building with no visible windows until at least the tenth floor. Aeris stares up at a large steel door, positioning her bounty next to her, and giving him a quick once-over. Truthfully, he was a mess: red stained every visible inch of the man from the desserts of Abafar, with crimson blood smeared across his nose and cheeks, largely hiding the bruising and crooked nose from view, with a limp leg caked in drying blood. At least he was alive, that was the only goal she had had for this delivery, and she was both relieved and surprised to have succeeded within the time frame given to her. A leather fingerless-gloved hand came up to straighten the Trooper’s black vest top - stalling for time more than anything else.
The Trooper felt positively sick, bile and a rotten feeling rising in his throat and clogging his wind pipe as he prepared for his fate - served to a supposed crime-Lord on a silver platter, with no understanding of what he could do to possibly relieve his fate. He didn’t know this man, he had no idea what information he could even provide to lessen his suffering. Though torture and death were both damning thoughts, the most sorrowful of all had plagued his mind and heart since he had been tied up on Aeris’ ship - he would die, and no one would remember him. All his comrades had been either killed in the aftermath of Order 66, or had passed since from the state of the galaxy in the formation of a new age - the transition from Galactic Republic to Galactic Empire had not been as smooth as he had been led to believe. Few had been granted the dignity of dying from old age. He had never managed to form a family after his retirement from service, nor any meaningful friendships, and this regret hung over him like a dark shadow, and would undeniably be his last thought. 
Aeris, on the other hand, felt her nerves beginning to alight for completely different reasons, her palms beginning to clam up, and the mask she adorned feeling as suffocating as ever as she checked the bounty again, thinking over every parameter to the deal. Hope daring to build in her chest that this had all gone to plan.
“My name,” The Trooper began, wrenching her from her mental checklist. “is Rook.”
Her mask tilts towards the Trooper- Rook, waiting.
“Someone should know.” 
He doesn’t see the way she gnaws at her already chapped lips, nor the way her hands clench further into fists. Aeris was thankful for the gloves with the force her nails dug into her palms. 
“Rook.” The Trooper would be embarrassed to admit just how calming it was to hear another person utter his name. “Do you want them to know your name?” His little moment of relief dissipates as Aeris motions towards the entrance.
“No.”
She wraps her knuckles in a pattern against the looming steel doors, and they swing open with a hiss.
Two large Trandoshans immediately flanked the pair, their large clawed reptilian feet scraping against the ferrocrete floor, as a stocky Gamorrean emerged from a nearby corridor, its snout-like nose raising to reveal thick tusks in a gross display before it stepped in front of the pair, leading the way down the endless grey corridor. All three bodyguards towered over the human and Clone by a full head in height, and both Rook and Aeris couldn’t help but feel as though they were now both bounty to a much larger hunter.
At the end of the grey corridor lay another set of large double doors, of which the Trandoshans stepped forward and pushed open for the three smaller creatures to enter, immediately closing them behind the party and standing to attention. Aeris’ hands twitched as the lizard-like creatures resumed their station at the doors - the only exit - minimally inching towards her blasters. Her gaze swept over the room from behind her visor. For such a rich individual, Val Vondar kept his meeting rooms sparse and underwhelming: the walls, floor and ceiling were all made from grey ferrocrete, and three long and blinding fluorescent lights hung from the ceiling in even strips. One rather plush chair sat in the centre of the room and on that chair sat Val Vondar himself, the Quarren leant back leisurely, draped in the finest cloth dirty money could buy. He oozed extravagance, polished shoes shining in the harsh fluorescent light, glinting almost mockingly compared to the new-comers dirty and bloodied pairs. His four tentacles that rested languidly on his chest detracted from the look of sophistication, and his beady turquoise eyes unsettled Aeris and Rook greatly, for many of the same reasons. Aeris had always found the Quarren an aesthetically displeasing race, and the man before her repulsed her from the entire species - perhaps it was his resemblance to a squid that had triggered her trepidation of seafood. 
"Weapons.” The Gamorrean commands, holding out a steel tray towards the bounty hunter. With a tic of her jaw Aeris quickly dispenses her blasters and blades into the tray before un-cuffing her bounty and placing the binding along with the assortment of weapons. After a thorough pat-down the pair are allowed to step into the centre of the room.
“Val Vondar,” Aeris begins, praying to the force and whatever else existed in the galaxy that her voice wouldn’t fail her. “I found this ex-Clone Trooper in the dessert of Abafar, and I have delivered him alive and well within the fortnight granted.” She produces a small cylindrical fob from her pocket, handing it over to the Gamorrean, who then hands it to its owner.
“I see, my dear, and I am impressed you have found me a specimen so soon when so many over my other bounty’s have failed me.” Val regards Rook with an intense gaze, tentacles writhing in excitement. Rook seemed to pale with every passing second, wringing his hands together in his best efforts to stay composed, sweat trickling down his back and terror clawing at his throat. Every breath that seized his lips felt like a battle. “And you, Trooper, do not fear. You shall be cared for properly, your wounds tended to, until it is time for my use of you.”
“What may that use be?” Rook questions, Aeris’ masked head whipping in his direction. He swallows around his parched tongue, his throat too tight to be of any use.
“Your DNA.” Val splutters as if it was obvious. Rook’s hopeful gaze lifts for a second, but quickly withers in his chest as Val continues. “Do not get your hopes up, Trooper, I assure you shall be treated with respect and humility - any enemy to the Jedi is a dearest friend of mine. However, I am afraid all of your DNA will be needed. You will not outlive the procedure.”
Rook’s eyes close in grief, the reality of the situation tearing through him like a blaster to the heart. 
“See to it he is cleaned and patched up, we cannot have him passing before his time.” Val disregards with a wave of his hand, the Gamorrean seizing the Clone Trooper by the arm and guiding him from the room. Rook doesn’t put up a fight, eyes downcast and jaw clenched as he staggers from the room. The doors hiss shut behind them. 
Aeris waits patiently in the centre of the room, heart beating steadily in her chest despite the clamminess to her skin, her lip bleeding with the extent to which she was chewing on it.
“Val-”
“I am happy to say you have not failed me. You provided me something invaluable, something which none of my other Hunter’s could provide.” The squid-like humanoid begins, gravelly voice reverberating around the enclosing walls. “I also understand that Clone Trooper’s are not something you hunt, and I appreciate the compromise you made for me. You shall be rewarded for your efforts.”
The panic in her heart immediately wanes, a breath releasing from her chest in a hopeful sigh. She had done it- this was it.
“But,” The tall being leans forward in his chair, clawed fingers gripping at the armrests. “the cargo was damaged.”
“A blaster shot to the leg was the only way to-”
“Excuses!” He bellows, rising from his chair and silencing the young woman, her teeth grinding and jaw clenching. “Do you realise how important this shipment is?! The Empire will not take such excuses!” He leans back into his chair, legs crossing leisurely. “No, original payment will not be given.”
“But-!” Aeris begins, eyebrows furrowed in fury and hands balled into fists, taking a step forward. A clawed hand landing on her shoulder has her halting in her steps, one of the two Trandoshans guarding the doors having approached. Her chest shudders with a breath as his claws tighten around her shoulder- her concealed eyes flicker to her weapons at the other side of the room. 
“Original payment of absolution of debts is withdrawn - you remain indebted to me until I deem it so.” Aeris’ mind frazzles, this had been her chance - her one chance. “Your freedom is mine and you will honour this until my death, or yours.”
“You were never going to give me my freedom.” She spits, fury boiling the blood in her veins. 
“Impress me, one day you might earn it.” His head tilts to the side. “Financial payment is in order, thankfully I foresaw such an occurrence and have the funds.” He produces a small bag of credits, placing it on the floor beside his feet. “But,” His voice takes on a playful tilt, and Aeris’ blood quickly simmers and runs cold as his dead eyes stare gleefully at her. “I think it is fair to say you have been far too disrespectful during this entire negotiation. You offer me damaged goods and then dare offer an excuse? And then, even more blasphemous, you dare challenge my genuinity, my honour.” He nods to himself, waving a webbed hand. “It seems you have forgotten you place, I am sure Kron will have no problem reminding you.”
Aeris gasps in a shuddering breath as one of the Trandoshans guards returns to her side, the other remaining at the door. The beast truly was a machine, rippling muscle protected by layers of thick scaly skin. She swallows in a lame attempt to control her nerves, the anger lapping at her insides quelled with the fear that seized her. She had been so close- so close to this never happening again. 
“You know the protocol Aeris, mask off. I need to see that you understand this lesson.”
They both understood that he just liked to watch people get hurt. Yet, he played along with the pretences anyway.
She stood for a moment, a war raging in her mind- her pride desperately wanted to fight the humiliation she was about to be forced to endure. Wisdom reminded her of all the times before, of all the beatings that had been give, of all the lessons that had been taught, again and again, until she learnt. The helmet would be taken from her anyway, when she was too bloody and too close to unconsciousness to put up a fight, and she would be beaten again, without the helmet.
She steps purposefully to the corner of the room, determined not to show any fear, though the shaking of her hands betrayed her. With a click the helmet is removed and placed delicately on the smooth floor. She takes her time setting the item down, shrugging her jacket off for good measure - from past experience she had learnt that solid objects within the jackets often hurt more than a typical beating. 
As she steps into the centre of the room, brunette locks falling unceremoniously around her thin face, she tunes in to the conversation again. 
“-make it hurt but not crippling, she needs to be able to work for me again soon after this.”
“Before the lesson begins, do you have anything to say for yourself? An apology perhaps?” Val was far too excited for the ordeal about to unfold, his tentacles twitching in excitement as he leant out of his chair.
Aeris levels the creature with a sour stare, a million insults bouncing around her skull as she watches the fucking squid practically writhe in excitement. Out of all the creative fish-based insults floating around her head, she opts for a simple yet precise phrase, one to truly portray her fury.
“Fuck you.”
Val grins, pointy teeth glimmering in the harsh light. 
“Kron, make sure this one hurts.”
---
Aeris didn’t know how long she remained in that overbearingly underwhelming room, curled in on herself with her arms protectively wrapped around her head, counting the dull thudding of blood in her ears and dead to the world around her. She didn’t know when the beatings had stopped, nor did she know when Val Vondar had left the room with his bodyguards, leaving her alone with only her pain and regret for company. She didn’t know what was to happen to Rook, she didn’t know if she had already been given another assignment, and she didn’t know what she was to do next, her plans for the future destroyed in a single afternoon.
All she did know was that she was hurt, and angry, but that more importantly she had to get home, and to do that, she had to get up.
With a pained groan her hands tentatively fall from their guard around her skull, her shoulders aching as she finally allows their tension to seep away, instead winding them around her bruised torso, dirtied and bloodied cheek pressing against the concrete floor as she finally begins to survey the damage. Her body throbbed from head to toe, though the cold that seeped into her bones from the cement beneath her dulled her senses, and a headache reverberated around her skull, emanating from a sharp pain at the junction between her head and neck. She winces as her eyes squint open, flinching away from the fluorescent lights casting deep dark shadows across the room. With a groan and a gasp she pushes herself unsteadily onto her hands and knees, head hanging low as her hazy eyes fix on her scraped knuckles, palms flat against the cement floor. Her arms ache with the effort to support her weight, and every breath sucked into her lungs sets her torso alight with pain, her ribcage protesting against every breath. The cold had numbed her legs completely, and it took immense concentration to find her footing beneath her as she pushed herself upright, stumbling up onto her legs, hands out ready as the world spun around her. 
“Fuck.” She groans, grimacing and grasping at her sides as pain bloomed, slowly straightening despite her bodies protests. 
Too harsh a grip has her seeing stars and nearly tumbling to the floor again, her palms pressing flat against her right side in a useless effort to repair the damaged ribs that pressed against her bruised skin. As she stumbles to her belongings in the corner of the room her vision slowly begins to seep back, her peripheral slowly coming back into focus as she blinked rapidly, swallowing down the nausea that threatened to claw up her throat. 
She grunts as she leans down, shaking hand grasping her jacket from the floor which she slowly shrugs on, wincing at the effort but distracted as her red-rimmed eyes survey the credits strewn about her feet, and the open bag carelessly thrown in her belongings’ direction. Of course, she thinks bitterly, of course he wouldn’t even make this easy. Though she had half a mind to leave the credits and write the bounty off altogether, she swallowed her pride and slowly lowers herself to the cool ground and begins collecting the credits, gritting her teeth and mumbling obscenities all the while - she may as well get something out of this ordeal.
Hauling herself to her feet with the help of the nearest wall, right hand gripping the rough material with scraped palms, she licks her teeth, spitting blood onto the floor uncaring about the mess. The familiar metallic taste coated her mouth and throat, and she wipes her mouth with her free hand, wincing at the aggravation to her split lip. With feeling slowly returning to her legs she makes for the exit, heavy boots thudding against the solid floor breaking the tense silence. She slides her familiar mask back onto her face, wincing at the pressure on her skull but thankful for the relief it offered from the overbearing lights. Though her actions were pained and sluggish, left hand still cradling her right side, and right hand tugging at the underside of her helmet in the hopes of relieving some of the pressure, she emerges from the compound mere moments later. She doesn’t glance back as she disappears into the ongoing bustling crowds that lined the streets, slipping back into obscurity just as quickly as she had left it.
---
By the time Aeris stumbled back onto her ship she was practically doubled over, almost falling through the doorway to the main hull as the door slid shut behind her, cursing through quick breaths as she catches herself on the centre table, knuckles white with how hard she gripped its ledge, fighting the urge to heave her guts out whilst still wearing her mask. Sweat pooled across her brow and down her neck, a thick layer of grime coating her damp skin. The journey home had been uneventful, the blasters at her hips warding off competition and salesmen alike, but the crowds had been relentless, and the jostling had done little to improve her condition. 
Carelessly dropping her mask to the floor, the brunette gasps a deep breath, pain written plainly across her sharp features. Her jacket follows suit, shrugged from her boney shoulders with a wince and thrown across the table, uncaring for where it landed. Shuffling to a hidden compartment on the furthermost wall, shaking hands reach into a divot, fumbling for a few moment before a resonant click accompanies a neighbouring panel lurching open to reveal a small bathroom. Aeris sighs with relief as she leans against a small basin, immediately splashing her face with cool water and raking her hands through her disheveled locks, pushing her bangs from her face. Her dark gaze finally lifts to a mirror above the basin as her hands rest in the cool water, soothing the cuts and grazes she had sustained. A cracked and smudged reflection stares back at her, her mouth pressing into a thin line and her eyebrows furrowing at the sight that greeted her. As usual, she looked gaunt and worn, deep bags under her bright eyes extenuating her sharp gaze and harrowing stare, lean physique only adding to the misconceived frailness of her being. 
Already a bruise blossomed along her left cheek and curved its way around her eye, the familiar splattering of red and yellow warning of a shiny hue still to come. Her right cheek, though not bruised, had been scraped against the cement floor, and now an angry array of red welts raised beneath fresh open grazes, blood mixing with the water to slowly trickle down her hollow cheek. Her gaze briefly fell to a scar winding its way behind her neck, its glossy edge only visible peaking from beneath her slicked locks, before she pulls her gaze away, squaring herself with an indignant look.
Preparing herself with a deep breath her hands come to grab the material of her shirt, an audible whimper catching in her throat as she tugs the garment off, ribs and shoulders protesting. 
“Fucking hell.” She curses, throwing the shirt to the side and gasping a breath, attempting to disturb her ribs as little as possible with every intake. Kron may as well have been an artist given the smattering of colour that decorated her pale skin, bright and angry hues of red spontaneously wound their way across her hips and stomach, concentrated bursts of a deeper crimson, already beginning to fade away to a hideous purple-black, wove its way along her sides and across each individual rib. The bruising disappeared beneath the tight binding she wore on her chest, and though its tightness pained her more with every breath and twist, she left it be, not willing to wrestle free from the constricting garment and cause more pain than necessary. Her right side was the worst of all, a particularly worrisome lashing of purple winding around her ribcage. She grimaces at the stinging reminder as she dabbles a damp wash-cloth across her skin, gingerly dabbing at the most tender areas, yet grateful of the numbing effect on her beaten skin. 
With every passing moment the pain and nausea lessened, giving way to a myriad of emotions Aeris would rather not dwell on. She had been so close, so close to being free of all of this. Though Val rarely called on her with such pressing demands, unlike this last bounty, the constant threat of being summoned back to the Quarren’s clutches to do his bidding hung heavy across her shoulders. Disobedience would lead to death - her last moments spent hunted by those she may have considered colleagues, or perhaps mutually-beneficial competition, but there was no longer anywhere truly hidden in the galaxy, not for people like her, not anymore. 
She can feel the blood pumping through her veins, solely propelled by her frustration alone, something sinister and disheartening clawing its way up her throat and seizing her chest. She was furious, she was devastated, she was incensed and beyond consolable. Dark eyes glowered at the new lesson that had been beaten across her skin, insults and nonsense echoing around her skull, Aeris unsure herself who they were actually aimed at - Val? Herself? The Universe? All of it, fuck it all.
Unfortunately, this feeling was not foreign. And its’ familiarity only frustrated her more. 
She felt suffocated. Mounting frustration at her fate, at her carelessness in her youth, in allowing herself to be indebted. When she had had nowhere left to turn, where the monster’s clawed hands and webbing lies seemed the only chance for survival, when she had thought debts could be repaid - foolish, foolish, foolish.
As righteous as her fury felt, and as comforting as it was compared to wallowing in despair at her failure, Aeris was exhausted. Every muscle and bone ached, her eyes so worn and tired every blink felt sand-scratched. The week had been gruelling, tirelessly chasing Rook across a planet’s worth of deserts in the hope of bringing her bounty back on time. She had seldom slept, nor had a proper meal, and her body craved the former, her feet feeling like lead in her boots. Turning from the mirror, leaving her shirt behind, she saunters towards the bloodied sofa and table in the centre of the room, grabbing a small bag from a shelf on the way.
She collapses onto her seat, head lolling back, stretching her neck and back with a grunt. Truly, her anger had finally melted away, subdued beneath a familiar mix of despair and grief settled in her stomach. Her gaze falls to the bottles of blue and white liquid already grasped in her hands. From her bag she produces a syringe and a pipette, laying them onto the table carefully. First, the pipette, the brunette fiddling with the cap of the white liquid - Sweetblossom - with well-practiced hands. 5 drops is all it takes before she’s sealing the liquid away again, savouring the familiar tingling warmth spreading from her mouth to her stomach as her focus turns instead to the jewel of her collection - the iridescent blue of SLV-16. She could already feel the tension seeping from her muscles as she prepares the syringe full of the bright liquid, its potent fruity smell filling her nose as she stashes the bottles away, being sure to secure their caps. She doesn’t think as she plunges the syringe into her left arm, her vein flashing beneath her skin as the liquid disperses - she doesn’t want to think.
Empty syringe discarded back into the small bag, and mind already grinding to a steady halt, she places her blasters onto the table in front of her, pushing them out of arms reach as her eyelids flutter. She leans back, legs propped against the dirtied table as her eyes flutter to the ceiling, blown pupils already beginning to haze. With every second she feels her mind begin to numb, the aches and pains of her body numbed and forgotten, the world blurring at the edges, and her worries melt into nothingness - all will and willpower obsolete, with nothing but the humming of the hull to accompany her to slumber.
---
Aeris’ jolts awake from her dreamless sleep, wrenched from a comforting dark abyss to the confines of her ship, shuddering breathes wracking her chest as her wild blood-shot gaze flits about the room, alert and fearing an intrusion. Her head tilts to the side, brain finally recognising the annoying shrill of her communicator from with her jacket. She reaches forward sluggishly, already planning to ignore the bounty and return to her peaceful slumber, but when she pulls the small circular device from her pocket, those thoughts all but vanish.
All air is sucked from her lungs as her wide red-rimmed gaze glares unwavering at the hologram before her, her mind and body numb with shock and horror. Her heart rattles against her ribcage and her mind frazzles as memories of a reality long since abandoned force themselves to the forefront of her mind, faces and voices that had haunted her for an age dancing behind her eyelids, pangs of sorrow and regret seizing her chest and strangling her lungs. Her throat was tight - too tight - and her mouth as parched as the salt-flats of Tatooine, an uncomfortable mix of disbelief and irritation churning her stomach. Her knuckles turn white with the force with which she gripped the small device, her face almost as pale with all colour sapped from her cheeks.
The air feels icy against her skin and yet perspiration forms along her brow, hairs on her neck standing on end. 
Her eyes stare unblinking at the little hologram dancing across her screen, a familiar yet aged face staring back at her.
That’s fucking Obi-wan Kenobi.
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trixree · 2 years
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When the war ends, the production of Fett-clones draws to a screeching halt. This is distressing to many parties for many reasons. Who is going to take responsibility for the tubies? The cadets? The soldiers still waiting for deployment orders? The millions of veterans who are not legally people and who no longer have a war to fight?
For two months, no one has any fucking clue.
“We take them,” Sweetheart says, pacing. Given his amputation, he has taken to expressing stress not by crossing his arms, but by holding his abbreviated bicep with his hand. He digs his fingers in hard. “Right? We just take them.”
Ciryc sighs from where he’s sprawled on his back on their bed—their very big bed in which they’ve been celebrating the end of the war, the Republic and the Jedi’s victory against the Sith who started it all, with vigorous and athletic sex—his hands over his eyes.
“It’s at least three hundred babies, Sweets,” he tries to reason. “That’s not even counting the cadets. Where the fuck are we going to put them?”
Somewhere, Sweetheart thinks with a desperation that scalds the inside of his throat. Anywhere.
They’ve long since moved out of their first tiny little room-for-rent with its borrowed and handmade furniture. They live in the city, now. They have a whole entire home that’s theirs, with furniture they chose or made, with jobs and hobbies and lives they built with their own two hands; or one hand, in Sweetheart's case. Ciryc works at the hospital. Beeps apprentices to a craft artisan who specializes in “not-factory-made Trade Federation garbage” furniture (as Beeps calls it). Sweetheart teaches eighth-year literature and composition at the local primary school.
They are, all of them, so much more than they ever thought they would be.
And now one thousand of their unclaimed brothers are languishing in the vast unknown of the future.
Sweetheart squeezes his arm and clenches his eyes shut. The inaction hurts. “We have to do something,” he pleads. He doesn’t know who he’s pleading with.
Beeps has stayed out of the conversation thus-far. He’s sat on the bed by Ciryc with his datapad, staring and occasionally tapping at the screen with an expression of deep concentration. Sweetheart looks to him, wanting to urge him into expressing an opinion, an idea, something, no matter what—
Only to find that Beeps is already watching him with a soft little smile.
____________________________
Beeps hasn’t just been learning carpentry.
They lie in their big bed with its soft dark-green sheets and its overabundance of throw blankets and pillows, Beeps sandwiched between Ciryc and Sweetheart as he shows them his datapad.
His datapad, with its connection to what Beeps calls “the Unregistered Net”; The Unregistered Net, with its clones-only messaging forum; the messaging forum with Beeps’ trusted contacts; Beeps’ trusted contacts and their connections—their Jedi-trained clone trooper and his General-slash-Master.
“Shebs’palon,” Ciryc whispers, tearily. “You should have said. Beeps, you should have said."
Beeps sighs. His barrel of a chest rises and falls with the motion. Sweetheart, reclined atop it, rises and falls with it. Oh, Beeps.
“I know,” Beeps says, apologetic. “I didn’t want you to worry.” A shaky breath. “I didn’t want you to know that I was hurting. This… helped. Helps.”
“Communication is the key to all relationships,” Sweetheart recites—it's a reflex at this point. He has it written and pinned up to the wall of his classroom. He says it to hormonal natborn youth all day long. He says it to his partners at least once a week. His riduure. Even now, it makes his heart jump in his chest to know that they not only love him back, but they are his as he is theirs, body and soul.
Beeps brushes gentle fingers through his hair. “I know. I’m sorry.”
Sweetheart sits up and stretches, shoulder twinging. He picks at a loose thread on the first-ever blanket Beeps crocheted. It’s a ratty, hideous thing. He loves it immensely. They all do. If Ciryc wasn’t so fond of curling up under it, he might have framed it just to keep it safe and whole, always.
Sweetheart takes Beeps’ other hand, letting the 'pad fall gently to his chest. He says, loftily, “I’ll forgive you when you bring me an ikaad.”
Ciryc laughs until he turns purple in the face.
____________________________
The Force-sensitive vod that Beeps and Ciryc know (called Ditz) and Beeps’ contact (called Bughead, for some unfathomable reason) meet Beeps at the planetside spaceport. They decided it was best that Sweetheart and Ciryc wait at home for the others to arrive. Best to keep this quiet. Off the books.
There are other vode like them in Beeps’ server. Deserters. Now that the war is over and there’s a strong movement for clone citizenship—and a good chance that they'll achieve it, thanks to the work of Senator Amidala and interim Chancellor Organa—deserters are starting to come out of the wood-work, seeking out the family many of them had no choice but to leave behind.
(There’s another vod out there, one that is friends with Beeps, who has two children of his own. Adopted and from his riduur’s previous marriage. Little twi’leks. They have a farm.)
Sweetheart can’t stop pacing.
That's going to be them. Well, minus the farm part.
“Sweets…” Ciryc pleads, followed by the unspoken, sit down.
Their apartment is packed with baby-things—some they bought and some they made. Ciryc has no grounds to stand on in telling Sweetheart to calm down. He’s been hovering by the crib Beeps’ made for the last hour, as if willing their ikaad to appear from out of the Force itself.
Sweetheart hears the elevator ding faintly down the hall and time slows to a crawl. He hearts Ciryc's faint gasp of surprise. He hears distant voices and footsteps he’d know anywhere from down the hall—vode. Ciryc is suddenly right at his shoulder. He grips Sweetheart there, as if to keep himself upright. Sweetheart drops a quick kiss to Ciryc’s hand. He wonders if Ciryc can feel Sweetheart’s racing heartbeat in his lips.
Keys, rattling in the lock. The voices go quiet. The door opens.
Oh.
He’s crying—Beeps is crying and his smile is the widest, brightest thing that Sweetheart has ever seen. Brighter than the rising sun. Warmer than the space underneath the covers made by their breaths in the dark.
“Come meet him,” Beeps says, his voice thick and wet. In his arms is an impossibly tiny person—a little human, a little vod—with dark, fine baby hairs stuck in perfect whorls to his small and precious little head.
The rest of the galaxy falls entirely away. There are only the three of them—Sweetheart and his riduure—and their ikaad, cradled in their hands and hearts.
"Ni kyr'tayl gai sa'ad, Poem."
Poem's impossibly little eyes blink open at them, searching. They are the deep earthy brown of fresh soil, the same shade of brown that peers back at Sweetheart from the mirror every morning.
It is the most beautiful sight in the universe.
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galateagalvanized · 2 years
Note
Can you please do 14? Codywan if you may.
Thanks! ♥️
Thank you for your request!! I'll be filling this one with a writing exercise, just as I did the last one, and this is the inverse of the last. For any writers wanting to join me, here's the prompt:
Write a half page to a page of narrative, up to 350 words, that is all one sentence.
The ballroom is a battlefield—a whirling, turning, fast-paced war with engagements and disengagements, and the sound of heels clacking on the floor builds a ruinous staccato that is out of tune with the high-riffing flutes and the high-strung strings of the live band in the corner, and Cody is trying to hold his fear back behind his teeth because this is not the kind of battlefield that he’s prepared his whole life to fight on; no, this is a battlefield of money and power and influence, and Cody is both unarmed and unmoored in his too-tight suit jacket and his pinching, borrowed shoes, and he finds himself looking for an exit unblocked by growing, pulsing crowds of chatting people, and, in his desperation, frankly considering heading straight for a window; as he starts moving, elbowing his way through, he catches a flash of familiar white-streaked auburn heading towards him through the chattering, glittering crowd, and he has to fight not to sigh with relief, because Obi-Wan is here, and Obi-Wan can get them both out, away from this profusion of elegance and waste and back to something real, someplace they both belong; unfortunately, the universe must have other plans, because someone taps on Cody’s shoulder before Obi-Wan can reach him, and Cody has to tuck all his fear back down into his chest as he turns and, only a little desperately, tries to find the bare bones of what could be called a smile, because he knows the whole galaxy id watching what will happen to the clones and speculating on what might happen to the veterans of the Clone Wars in a peaceful society, as if navigating a speeder lane and stopping at red lights could somehow be more difficult than maneuvering a Venator-class starship through an asteroid belt while dodging proton torpedoes—and that might be beside the point, but Cody doesn’t know what to say, not with panic souring all the words caught at the top of his throat into an unworkable slurry.
“Terribly sorry, Senator Pattel,” someone says, and Cody is so caught up in his building anxiety that he doesn’t recognize the voice before an arm slides around his waist. It’s such a shocking and foreign sensation that he almost jumps back before he realizes: that’s Obi-Wan’s voice. That’s Obi-Wan’s arm, and those are the pads of Obi-Wan’s fingers pressing hot and insistent into the bony jut of Cody’s hip. “But I had claimed a dance from our dear commander earlier, and I’m afraid this is the only time I’ll be able to make good on that claim. I’m sure you’ll be able to catch up with him later. Commander, shall we?”
“Let’s,” Cody croaks, and he leans into the gentle pressure on his waist that Obi-Wan uses to turn him away from the earnest eyes of the new Pantoran senator. He puts an arm on Obi-Wan’s shoulder, and Obi-Wan links their free hands with twinkling eyes and a soft, fond smile.
“One turn around the floor, and we’ll go home,” Obi-Wan promises, and the whirling motion of the ballroom fades into background noise, into something easily ignorable: a minor storm brewing on a distant shore. Panic ebbs like a shrinking tide, receding from the safe harbor wrapping Cody in his arms. His mind quiets, soothed by a simple truth.
Obi-Wan leads, and Cody follows.
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fanfic-cave · 3 years
Text
Injured Pt. 2
Rating: SFW/PG-13
Word Count: 1.9k
Pairing: not so subtle hint to Hunter x Fem Jedi!OC
Warnings: Blood/bleeding, burn, and just general injured person, swearing, and FLUFF TIME (also sparks of feelings and the characters not recognizing them is like a drug to me so have fun)
Summary: You commissioned the bad batch to take you to Dantooine for your own personal mission in search of a Jedi temple, being an ex-jedi clone wars veteran. The rogue clones inevitably find a fight, which leads to Hunter getting injured. How will you all escape, and will you be able to rescue Hunter before its too late?
Authors note: Thanks for the notes on part 1! If part 1 was action, this is where the fluff ensues.
Link to part one here
You saw the blood on Hunter's hands, and images flashed through your brain. Dead clone troopers, your last fight on Umbara where your battalion was wiped out. I can’t let that happen again. You dove out of your cover and rushed to him. “Wrecker, help me get him!”
Echo shouted in through comms “Crosshair, focus your shots on whoever's firing that thing!”
You easily avoided the blaster fire, and with Wreckers help you pulled Hunter back to cover. You started assessing the blaster injury on him. It looked black and red, splotches of blood staining his uniform. “Hunter, can you hear me?”
Hunter gripped his side where the blaster shot him. “Yeah.” His voice sounded a bit weak. He wasn’t doing too great.
“I can help him, but we need to get to the ship now.” You spoke to the group.
“I’ve got it!” Tech spoke triumphantly, and made quick movements with the stolen comm unit he held. Suddenly all fire ceased from the Empires troopers. You peeked out and saw the troopers were clutching their heads, like they were in pain. It looked like Tech was sending them some strong feedback, a few had even passed out.
“Let’s move!” Echo called out. Wrecker helped Hunter stand, you went to the other side to support him, and you began your retreat. Crosshair remained for a minute to shoot down some troopers who were recovering, then he joined in the escape.
The ship wasn’t far, and you fortunately made it there in time before you and the group had to engage in another skirmish. Omega was standing by the ship, and saw you approach. She looked at Hunter and you think you saw tears well up in her eyes. “Hunter!” She ran toward him. “Is he okay? What's wrong?”
“Just a blaster shot, don’t worry about it.” Hunter spoke and gave her a reassuring nod. You knew he didn’t know for sure if he was okay or not. Everyone boarded the ship quickly.
“Get him to the medical station and do what you can Sera, Tech let’s get the ship out of here.” Echo spoke. He seemed to be comfortable acting as lead to the group with Hunter being more or less out of commission.
You and Wrecker moved to the medical bay with Hunter held up between the two of you, everyone else stayed behind. Crosshair had put a hand on Omegas shoulder to keep her from following you. Once at the small medical station on the ship, Wrecker helped set Hunter down.
“Is he gonna be okay?” Wrecker asked. He looked at you with worry written all over his face
You removed Hunter's helmet and the top of his armor, being gentle with your movements. “I think I can fix this, give me a minute.” His face looked a little pale, a sheen of sweat coating his skin.
The boys knew you had medical experience. There was a day where Omega had sprained her ankle while you were in the area. You were able to treat the small injury, and she healed relatively fast. Then she got a scratch, then Wrecker hit his head, and soon enough you began to get calls from them if a serious injury was involved. They knew to give you space and let you work.
You hesitated, and then removed your mask, setting it aside on the nearby table. Your hood fell to your shoulders. None of the bad batchers, save for Omega, had seen you without your mask, but you needed it off to work better. Plus with the battle you all went through together, you figured hiding your face wasn't a priority right now. Your blonde hair was in a tight braid. It was short and barely extended past the base of your skull. Hunter looked at you curiously, but his gaze kept shifting, like he was having a hard time staying conscious. “Keep your eyes open Hunter. I’m gonna clean this and we’ll get you patched up.”
You wiped some sweat off of him and he nodded at you, gritting his teeth. You cut away his shirt, and revealed the wound. You saw he was quite toned and muscular once the shirt was gone, and you felt your face grow warm.
Stop looking at his muscles Sera. You shook your head to snap out of it and got back to work. There were multiple shots on his right flank, nearly missing the center of his abdomen. His skin was burned where the shots had hit him. The burn wasn’t too deep, but there was some blood and irritation. Hunter must’ve been in a lot of pain. You glanced at his face. He was good at hiding it.
You administered a numbing agent, hoping to help with the pain. He seemed to relax a bit after this. Then, you looked around to check and be sure nobody else was in the room to watch. You closed your eyes, and put your hand over the wound. You opened yourself up to the force, and used it to sense Hunter's body. After a moment of concentration, it was easy to start the flow and you began to heal him. This was the real reason why you excelled in first aid: you could heal with the force, and it had made you a damn good general during the clone wars.
I still couldn’t save them. My troopers.
You cast the thought away quickly. You stopped your force healing, and got to work with bacta. You hadn’t used the force to seal up his wound, but you tried giving some life force to him as an attempt to ease away more of the pain and give him some strength. He seemed to gain a bit more color, and he looked stronger.
“You don’t look so bad.” Hunter said. He was looking at you, studying your face. You raised your eyebrows at him questioningly as you cleaned his wound out.
“Without the mask, I mean. You look nice.” You felt the heat return to your face again. You thought of his somewhat exposed body in front of you, then glanced at his face. “You’re not too bad yourself,” You said teasingly.
“I mean it.” He countered. “Why the mask?” You sighed at his question. That’s complicated.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.” He averted his gaze. He seemed embarrassed, or maybe sorry that he had gotten that reaction from you. You watched him for a second, debating whether or not to share.
You looked back at your hands and kept working as you spoke. “You’re all hiding from the Empire, right? Let’s just say you’re not the only ones.” He contemplated what you said for a moment.
“Thank you Sera.” Hunter's eyes found yours, trying to hold your gaze. He seemed earnest in his appreciation.
“Just don’t get into the habit of getting shot, alright?” You smiled at him and he chuckled at your joke. You sealed a large bacta patch on the wound. “But I think you’ll live today.”
“I also meant for coming and helping us.” He made eye contact with you. You felt a flutter in your chest, an unexpected response from his intense gaze.
You broke away from his gaze and sat down. “It was nothing. Like I said, I thought you guys could use the help. And I know you’re all capable, but I wanted to do what I could.” You shrugged when you finished.
Hunter sat up and put a hand on your shoulder. “We could’ve been in worse shape without you today Sera. That wasn’t nothing.” His hand was warm. You became more aware of your breathing suddenly and took a deep breath. You looked back up to him, and he was still staring at you. He wasn’t the easiest person to read, but you could tell he really wanted you to know that he was grateful.
You put your hand on top of his. More warmth spread through your body. “It was really nothing Hunter.” You smiled shyly now. Well, this is kinda weird. You thought. Why am I feeling like this around Hunter? Is it because he’s not wearing a shirt? You continued contemplating why you felt your heart trying to beat out of your chest, and the fact that Hunter's touch made an electric current pulse through your body. Maybe because I don’t have the mask on. Being exposed and whatnot. You decided this was a good theory.
“Let me know if you start feeling some pain, I'll be able to help.” You squeezed his hand as you spoke. “Sure thing.” He replied. You felt his fingers twitch underneath yours. You felt the flutter in your chest again when his fingers moved under yours.
The door opened and Omega walked in. “Hunter, are you okay?” She walked up to him, looking at the patch on his side. You felt his hand slip out between your shoulder and hand, taking his warmth with him. “Yeah kid, I’ll be fine thanks to her.” He tilted his head towards you.
“Hunter, it’s really-“ you interjected again, preparing to downplay your role in helping Hunter. Omega had interrupted you though by giving you a hug. You looked down for a second, then quickly glanced at Hunter. You thought you saw him smile, but he was getting up now. You looked back to Omega and patted her back, returning the hug. “Thank you Sera!” She released you and looked up at you with admiration. You had a soft spot for her, and you couldn’t help but smile genuinely at her. “Sure, Omega. It was no problem.”
Hunter walked past you two, then stopped at the door, leaning at the frame. You watched him, an eyebrow raised questioningly. He turned to look at you. “You know, we could probably use your help more often if we go out on more missions like this. I’m sure everyone else would agree.”
“Are you asking me to tag along when there’s a next time?” you asked, crossing your arms and raising your eyebrows to emphasize the when, not if. You were smirking too, enjoying the fact that Hunter was asking for your help. It was a rare occurrence and you wanted to enjoy the moment by teasing him for it.
He sighed. “Yeah, I am.” He looked away from you and waited for your response. Your smirk turned into a smile. You stood up and walked to Hunter, slightly punching his arm. “Yeah I could come and save your ass more.” You laughed, and he rolled his eyes at your comment.
Omega looked between the two of you, happy at the relationship that seemed to be developing. “You saved their ass?” She spoke, and your eyes widened. Hunter said “Hold on Omega, Sera didn’t mean to say that, Right?” He looked at you with furrowed brows, and the tone of his voice dropped when he addressed you. “Yep! That word doesn’t exist Omega, don't say it!” The words came out quickly and you walked past Hunter with a quick movement.
“Sera!” He followed you and exited out of the med station, you sensed a quippy back and forth conversation was about to happen. You smiled as he moved to follow you. I think I just made a friend. You thought. And if your suspicions were correct, you think you would get another 5 friends down the road.
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boltwrites · 3 years
Text
Misfits - Chapter 3
Fandom: Star Wars - Clone Wars / The Bad Batch Pairing: The Bad Batch / Reader (Polyamorous) Rating: M (Rating May Change) Tags: Polyamorous Relationship, Force-Sensitive Reader, Slow Burn
Work Summary: After a year working with the 501st, you've been assigned a new post - Clone Force 99, aka the Bad Batch. You're concerned about the transition - you found it hard enough to fit in with the 501st, and now you had to acclimate to an entirely new squad. As it turns out, the Bad Batch is very accommodating.
Chapter Summary: Hunter insists that you nap on the way to Kamino.
read it on ao3 | start from ch 1 | or read more below
“Get some sleep. It’ll be a while until we reach Kamino.”
Hunter gestured towards a bunk that you could tell was well used. You worried the inside of your lip, considering the offer.
This ship was a far cry from the accommodations you were used to. It reminded you more of quarters you once shared with a pirate crew – cramped, but cozy.
You didn’t mind it, per say… but it wasn’t what you were used to. On the Resolute, you had your own quarters, completely separate from the rest of the clones. It had been both a blessing and a curse – it afforded you some privacy, being the only female Captain, and working with a majority of clones who had never experienced such direct contact with a woman. It was honestly tiring dealing with their staring – which wasn’t even a majority sexual, honestly. They were just curious about you, and while you didn’t blame them, that didn’t mean you wanted eyes on you while you were just trying to get some rest.
The Bad Batch didn’t seem to be quite as bad as the 501st, and you suspected that perhaps because they were a smaller, elite squad, they had encountered women in different environments than just a club full of clone chasers like 79’s. You could feel Wrecker’s eyes on you half the time, and his curiosity reminded you the most of the 501st’s own sneaking glancing. You also caught Tech looking a few times as you set your meagre belongings in the cargo area – he had seemed flustered and turned away, datapad in hand. You had no idea what his fascination with you was, but you assumed you would find out soon enough. It was almost cute seeing how you flustered him, if only because your own men – or, former men – had grown so used to your presence that they had gotten harder to fluster.
But then, there was Hunter and Echo, who both reminded you of Rex. Rex hadn’t been bothered with your gender if only because he had worked so much with Ahsoka the years prior. You didn’t know who Hunter had worked with that made him so comfortable with you, nor Echo, but you were glad that at least your gender wasn’t causing any more awkward tension than it should. You felt strange enough barging into Hunter’s team, where you technically outranked him as a Captain, but knew about as much as a shiny when it came to this squad.
At least everyone was better than Crosshair, who avoided you like a bad smell. He obviously had some kind of a stick up his ass.
But that was besides the point – the real question was: did you trust these men enough to sleep out in the open like this? You didn’t think they would hurt you, or anything quite so dangerous, but you did value your privacy. And it seemed strange to sleep in their communal space while you still felt like an outsider. That was far too… intimate for your liking.
“I’m fine,” you tried to respond to Hunter’s offer with a polite smile and a nod. You didn’t want your refusal to read as rude – you just didn’t want to open yourself up to something so intimate as sleeping in another clone’s bed, even if it was simply a matter of convenience. You didn’t doubt that the clones crashed in whichever bunk was available – the blankets on the bottom two looked more worn than the top, which alluded to the fact that they shared these.
You denied the offer, even though you were tired. You hadn’t slept since the Resolute had returned to Coruscant, and the fatigue was wearing on you. But you were a force sensitive. You could draw energy that way, you hoped. And maybe with an extra cup of caf from the small galley on the ship.
Hunter frowned at you. It wasn’t that he was outright offended by your refusal – he looked exasperated instead.
“I know you’re tired. Rest. We don’t have private rooms like on the star cruisers you’re used to, but it’s safe.”
Your eyes widened, and you shook your head. “No, I- I didn’t mean-“
“I know. I know we don’t have much,” Hunter shrugged, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms. “But it’s what we’ve got. Took Echo some time to get used to. I don’t blame you.”
You sighed, remembering Echo. Hunter’s looking at you and seeing Echo – another 501st member adjusting to a new place. And, he’s right, to an extent. Maybe you’re overthinking things. The Bad Batch has been nothing but kind to you so far.
“I’m sorry,” you shook your head. “You’re right. It’s different from the 501st. Over there, I had a private Captain’s room. And here-“
“You’re right in it,” Hunter finished. You nodded, sighing. Hunter nodded at you, understanding, before he continued.
“Ain’t no use in separation here. Each member here was selected for a purpose, and each is an expert in that field. I’m a superior in name only – I’m more like a coordinator, if I’m completely honest,” Hunter admitted, and you breathed a sigh of relief.
“So, you guys operate more like pirates or something than an actual military unit?” you asked, with a raised eyebrow and a little quirk of a smile. Hunter shrugged, making a little noncommittal noise.
“I’ve never worked with pirates, but maybe.”
You laughed, relaxing. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, taking a nap in the open. After all, you were going to be working with these men for the foreseeable future. You had to learn to trust them, and if there were any issues with boundaries, you would work it out. It would be fine, especially if the crew operated the way Hunter said they did – you understood that structure far more than you did military hierarchies of command.
“Thank you, Hunter,” you patted his shoulder gently, well aware of the armor that covered it. “If you don’t mind, I think I will take that nap. Maybe up there, though.”
You gestured to one of the top bunks, and Hunter even cracked a smile himself.
“High ground. Good choice.”
You shared a smile, shaking your head at him as he clapped you on the back and made his exit towards the cockpit.
His touch left you warm, even thought it was friendly, the sort of thing the clones took part in all the time. You kind of hated the way your cheeks flushed as you hopped on the bunk, untying your boots and kicking them to the floor, discarding your jacket and what little armor you had (shoulder plates and forearm guards, really) at the end of the bunk.
Not only was the Bad Batch different from the other clones in terms of their operation style – casual, bound by trust rather than duty – they were also different from other clones in certain physical aspects. Hunter’s hair, in particular, caught your eye far more often than it should in a professional sense, even as you tried to ignore it. And that little smile he just gave you –
No. No, you couldn’t do this. You had to work with Hunter, and if something happened between the two of you, you couldn’t count on the fact that you both would be able to remain professional.
You wrapped the blankets around you in a little cocoon as you tried to talk yourself down from all of this. It had been easier with the 501st. Those degrees of separation prevented you from forming those attachments. But here – this wasn’t a military structure. This was a team, a crew. You couldn’t get away from these men – for kark’s sake, they all shared these bunks.
The bunks, including the one you were occupying. They were homey – the blankets wrapped around you were plentiful. A couple were standard issue – you recognized the distinctive Republic insignia emblazoned on them. But some were clearly handmade. There were scraps of fabric entwined, one around another, weaving together to make a sturdy blanket. Another looked to be a quilt, hardy and thick, made to withstand the chill of space travel.
You were enveloped in them, completely cocooned, and you were already starting to warm up again despite the absence of your jacket. You tried to turn your brain off, for just a moment, and relax into the softness of the blankets, into the homey little bunk. The Bad Batch had obviously taken care to make their beds cozy and warm, and you appreciated it – it spoke to how they valued their space, their comfort. It was nice.
You started to drift off, and you couldn’t help but notice that even the blankets smelled nice. Not from a fresh wash, necessarily – no, it smelled more like it was pleasantly lived in. But didn’t it seem like the bottom bunks were the most used by the Batch?
Maybe this was Hunter’s bunk, you considered with a little smile, curling in on yourself. Hadn’t he mentioned the high ground? You imagined that a veteran officer like Hunter might care about things like that – about being able to get a jump on anyone trying to disturb his sleep. He would feel safer up here, like you did. The way this bunk was angled, there was a good view of the outside hatch, so Hunter would be able to see anyone trying to enter the ship.
Maybe it smelled like him, then. You could imagine him wrapped in these blankets too, maybe ones that thankful civilians gave him for his help.
You had told yourself you didn’t want to get attached, but as you drifted off into a light slumber, you couldn’t stop the visions that danced behind your eyes – Hunter in the bunk with you, his broad chest pressed to your back, his arms wrapped around your waist. If he snuggled too close to your shoulder, his hair would tickle your jaw. Maybe he would tell you the stories of the blankets wrapped around the both of you – his fingers tracing over yours as you thumbed over the handmade details, as his low voice hummed in your ear.
You drifted to sleep thinking of him, the thrum of his voice, rough hands against yours. And if those thoughts spilled over into your dreams – that was only for you to know.
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pinnithin-writes · 3 years
Text
more of a feeling
Mission to Zyxx fic, mild spoilers for season 5 if you're not caught up. This started as rambling about our bodies sabotaging us and turned into a conversation about our bodies taking care of us. 2117 words.
It was simple, really. It all came down to chemistry.
C-53 knew how emotions worked, of course; he’d even go so far as to call himself a veteran by now. Every frame he’d inhabited was a different experience, but the emotions he felt in those frames were a reassuring constant. He knew the programming for joy. He could trace the source code for anger. His cube felt it all the same, and no matter how many diagnostics he had to run in an unfamiliar body, his thoughts, his feelings, and his personality grounded him through the flux.
Until, that is, the failed clone of a scientist shoved him in a meat suit without his consent.
Emotions were different when he was piloting flesh. They governed his body more than he was used to. They still generated from C-53’s cube, but now that cube was hooked up to nerves and synapses, blood and organs, and those living, breathing parts responded accordingly. He was a miracle of a machine, truly – a code given life – but he couldn’t wax poetic about something like that when his pores leaked and his muscles tired and his stomach twisted in knots.
It was hard enough dealing with a body that resisted his will at every turn. It was worse still that every fleeting feeling affected him on the molecular level. He didn’t know how organics got anything done like this. Frustration made his head pound and his guts churn. Despair burned his eyes and locked his throat. Even pleasant feelings – affection, mirth – stole his breath, made his pulse race. It was distracting at best and debilitating at worst. Surely there was a way to bypass these effects.
Unable to connect his consciousness to high speed internet, he had to go about this the old fashioned way, which made it a slow process indeed. Thankfully, the USS Synergy owned a vast library, which he took advantage of to scan every file they had on hermanns, discovering himself.
He did most of his research at night. He told himself this was because he was less likely to be interrupted, but in truth he was embarrassed at his own inefficiency. Even in the old loader frame, downloading the data would have taken all of ten seconds. And though he knew his crewmates wouldn’t humiliate him, he still didn’t want to be seen like this. Having to move his eyes across a screen, absorb and process the words they scanned, and then file that information away in his slippery maze of a brain, line after line after line after line after line.
The hours of learning made him feel childish. C-53 was tired.
But he was getting somewhere. When exhaustion pulled at his eyelids and his thoughts went fuzzy in the late, still hours on Bargie, he knew it was adenosine flooding his neural pathways and inhibiting his functionality. No code existed to override adenosine. Caffeine, however, could counteract it for a short time (with the unfortunate side effect of upsetting his stomach and tasting like tar).
C-53 pored over chemistry texts and neuroscience studies, learning what made hermanns - and thus, hermanoids - do what they did. There were no comparable texts on tellurians in this galaxy, but the science, from what he could remember, was quite similar. It was all chemicals, and those chemicals told his brain to tell his body how to act.
It was exceptionally overcomplicated. There was always some other influencing factor to his body, a sensory input or a thought or even his DNA - Jeremy’s genetic memory - that scrambled a system that could theoretically be very streamlined.
An example: he could eat something that tasted good (peanut butter and chocolate), triggering a flood of dopamine that caused him to feel happy. But Jeremy was allergic to tree nuts, so his immune system attacks him for a perceived threat that doesn’t exist, so forcefully that he could die from it. It was as fascinating as it was annoying. Who knew organics could have glitches? Too bad he hadn’t figured out how to debug anaphylactic shock.
He didn’t know what he hoped to accomplish by doing all this research. In a way, studying why his body actively sabotaged him was a comfort, but the more he learned, the more faults he discovered. Evolution was a temperamental thing. He much preferred the elegance of engineering.
At present, it was a dark hour on Bargie, docked and slumbering with her crew on the Synergy. Half awake in the conversation pit, amidst a tangle of textbooks and portable screens, C-53 sat alone under the red glow of the security lights. Sprawled as he was, C-53 didn’t immediately notice Pleck wandering into the room until he said his name.
Blurry lines of text sharpened as he startled, then relaxed. “Hm? Oh, hey Pleck,” he said.
“C-53, it’s like, three in the morning,” Pleck responded. Bare footsteps signaled his approach, and then he dropped onto the couch next to C-53, a glass of water in one hand and an orange fruit in the other. He reached over and set the glass precariously on the cushion between them. “Y’know, tellurians usually sleep around this time,” he pointed out helpfully. “What are you doing out here?”
The info tablet C-53 held was inches away from his face. “I’m learning about my pineal gland,” he announced dully.
A hormone regulator located near the brain stem. Releases melatonin and influences one’s circadian rhythm. Well, it wasn’t doing a very good job right now, was it?
“Cool, is that something like - do tellurians have that too or just, y’know,” Pleck drew his feet up to sit cross-legged, “whatever you are?”
C-53 couldn’t help but smirk mirthlessly at that. “It’s found in most vertebrates, so yes, I would imagine both you and whatever I am have one.” He set the tablet aside to look at Pleck, but the screen made him night blind, and he could only see the afterimage of a splotchy red rectangle in the darkness. “Why are you awake?”
“Oh, I woke up thirsty,” Pleck explained easily. He fiddled with the peel on his fruit as he spoke. “And then I thought, well, while I’m up I might as well grab a snack, and then I saw you sitting there so,” he shrugged, “here I am.”
It was a better explanation than what C-53 had. And it was a far better explanation than Pleck would have given several months ago, when the Allwheat was still worming into his brain and keeping him up at odd hours. C-53 was thankful those days were behind them. As the afterimage of the tablet faded and Pleck became a collection of grays and blues beside him, he quietly mourned the loss of his night vision. And his regular vision.
“You ever had one of these, C-53?” Pleck asked. He finally got his fingernails under the skin and began peeling. “The Themm grow these instead of oranges. They’re kind of sour?”
“I haven’t,” C-53 answered. He hadn’t eaten an orange before, for that matter, but he wasn’t too interested in expanding his food horizons. Most things had an unpleasant texture to him.
“Do you want some?” Pleck went on, adding pieces of rind to the small pile in his lap. He slanted C-53 a glance. “Oranges are the most shareable fruit.”
“No, thank you.”
Pleck shrugged again before separating a slice of not-orange and popping it in his mouth. As he chewed in silence, C-53 picked up the glass between them and placed it safely on the coffee table. Piles of nearby notes were scrawled in his own clumsy hand, amateur diagrams and chemical formulas with lots of arrows and exclamation marks littering the margins. Writing it down helped the nonstick pan of his brain gain some traction, he found, but the coffee table was starting to look like Nermut’s conspiracy wall after so many hours of research.
His neck ached. His head pounded out a protest.
He’d been pushing his brain and body to its limits and had what to show for it? A newfound disgust with himself? A frustration he only knew more intimately? C-53 frowned and used one of his papers as a coaster.
Beside him, Pleck happily ate his fruit, unbothered. Being organic was easy for him; he was a native to his body and didn’t know anything else. C-53 pitied and envied him in equal measure.
“You’re going to bed soon, right C-53?” Pleck asked after making his way through half the orange. He reached to retrieve his glass from the table, but condensation stuck a note about the amygdala to the bottom. “Oh,” he remarked.
C-53 peeled it off for him. “I don’t like sleeping,” he explained, crumpling the note and tossing it on the table. “So I’m reading.”
Pleck took a sip of water and frowned. “You gotta sleep sometime.”
“I know,” he answered shortly. He’d read dozens of articles about the side effects of sleeplessness. Fatigue, irritability, memory issues, hallucinations if you waited long enough. He knew he’d crash eventually, he just wasn’t especially motivated to avoid it. “It feels bad,” he went on. “Waking up is disorienting.”
There was a thoughtful crease between Pleck’s brows; C-53 could barely see it under the security lights. Pleck took a moment to set his glass back down on the table before turning the remainder of the fruit over in his hands. “Is it because you don’t feel safe?” he asked without looking up.
“I’m… sorry?”
“It’s just - y’know, when I was having trouble sleeping-”
“Pleck, I’m not a lunatic,” C-53 interrupted. “I know I’m perfectly safe on Bargie. I just don’t like sleeping. I don’t need you to teach me how to be tellurian, okay?” He gestured at the pathetic mess of research before him, scrawled in an obvious lunatic’s hand. “I’m figuring it out.”
Pleck fed himself a section of orange and didn’t answer right away. On C-53’s other side, the info tablet’s screen auto timed out and went dark. They were bathed in red completely now, one of them frustrated and exhausted, the other watchful and concerned. C-53 removed his glasses and rubbed at his stinging eyes.
“Sorry,” he said after a time. “I’m just…”
“Tired?” Pleck offered.
C-53’s sigh went through his whole body. “Yes.”
A stubborn, senseless part of him didn’t want to overcome this. He didn’t want to be an example of perseverance, some epic struggle conquered by learning to live well. He wanted to kick and bite and throw a fit over this new frame. It wasn’t fair.
“C-53,” Pleck broke quietly into his thoughts. “You don’t have to, y’know, have the answer to everything all the time. Sometimes you have to just… do what your body is telling you to do, even if you don’t want to.” He offered an orange slice in C-53’s direction. “It’s trying to take care of you.”
“You say that like this flesh suit has a soul,” C-53 grumbled, but he took the fruit anyway, staring glumly as it lay in his stupid, sweaty palm.
“Well, sure it does.” Pleck smiled and prodded his shoulder with an index finger. “It’s you.”
C-53 fell silent. It was strange, learning things from Pleck. He was used to the roles being reversed, and it shifted something uncomfortably inside him every time it happened. Dutifully, he put the orange in his mouth, felt the tart flavor burst on his tongue, and chewed past the slimy sensation until he was able to swallow it. He was unable to hide a shudder.
Pleck watched him with one hopeful eye. “Not your favorite?” he guessed.
“It’s the texture,” C-53 explained, grimacing. But he held his hand out for another slice in spite of it.
Pleck grinned. “We can find something you like to eat instead of this,” he said, scooping the orange peels out of his lap and leaving them on the coffee table for later cleanup. “It doesn’t have to all be bad. Come on,” he rose from his seat and offered C-53 his hand. “Let’s check the kitchen for something better and then, y’know, maybe try and get some sleep?”
The please was unspoken, but C-53 could see it on Pleck’s freckled face. He was trying to take care of him, just like his clunky, unfamiliar body was. C-53 didn’t like his body very much, and wasn’t sure he ever would, but he liked Pleck enough to go along with him for now. He didn’t know what kind of chemical governed trust. He didn’t even let himself ask.
C-53 took Pleck’s hand, tried not to flinch from the zing it sent up his arm, and followed him out of the pit.
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rangerslayer-97 · 3 years
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Galaxy-3 (Rebels AU) Meets Galaxy-29 (SW/Terminator AU): Ahsoka Swap (Again!) Part 3
I do not own any of the characters from Rebels AU, they belong to @sirloozelite who gave me permission to use them.
Side note: Any crossovers myself and SirLoozElite have done and in the past are not canon to our fics. They are merely for fun and adding more chaos XD
******
Clone Wars Narrator: Trapped and imprisoned! Galaxy-3 Ahsoka Tano still remains in the clutches of her captors known as the Machine Resistance of Galaxy-29. An unmerciful galaxy in shambles, pockets of humanity under the lead of General Tano to push back the Machine Army of Skynet. Now, it is a question if both Ahsokas can be returned to their respective galaxies.
*3 BBY, Machine Resistance HQ, Planet Unknown, Region Unknown, Galaxy-29*
G3 Ahsoka: Can you please run by me what the kriff is a Terminator!?
Leia: A machine, hyper-alloy combat chassis. It’s microprocessor controlled, intelligent to a degree. The Terminators are lined with Cortosis Metal. Lightsabers are useless.
G3 Ahsoka: Then just use the Force!
Kallus: Negative. Most T-models have built-in anti-Force technology. Effective in a 2m radius.
G3 Ahsoka: Then why can I still feel the Force around you? Aren’t you a Terminator?
Kallus: Hybrid. And no, it would be suspicious if any Force user in my range to be cut off. Blend in easier, be more ‘human’.
G3 Ahsoka: That’s… disturbing… … …
Kallus: Considering I successfully infiltrated this base when I was serving Skynet. I was an effective model before my blueprints were made obsolete in turn for the T-800 instead.
Leia: Yes, you fooled us all, until for some reason our Akk Dogs were getting agitated.
G3 Ahsoka: Akk Dogs!? They’re native to Haruun Kal only! 0_0
Leia: Thanks to Windu, who narrowly survived, we located him on his home planet with a bunch of Akk Dogs. They have a nose for detecting Terminators. Windu breeds them now.
G3 Ahsoka: Who else is alive?
Leia: Well… there’s my family, Obi-wan, a handful of Clone Troopers, any survivors we could find and-
A portal opens out of the blue and three people step out.
Kallus & Leia: 0_0
G3 Ahsoka: Kaeden! Rex! :D
Leia: Wha- Sgt. Larte!? 0_0
G3 Kaeden: Not that bantha crap again. I’m not a Sergeant! I’m a doctor!
G3 Rex: Well, here’s your real General. Unharmed, other than she ate all the food in the apartment and the tea supply.
G3 Ahsoka: YOU DID WHAT!? YOU 🤬
G3 Rex: LANGUAGE!!! *turns to Kallus and Leia* Now you two, please release my little sister from that… cell contraption.
Kallus: Stand back.
Five minutes and Ahsoka of G3 is freed from the bonds in the cell. Ahsoka turns to… herself.
G3 Ahsoka: Good luck in your fight. May the Force guide you to victory :)
Ahsoka: Thanks. I feel a lot better after that short break. Enjoy your retirement, you deserve it! *offers hand*
G3 Ahsoka: *shakes General Tano’s hand*
General Tano, Kallus and Leia wave goodbye as the G3 counterparts exit through the portal.
Ahsoka: Now, to debrief the squad for the assault on the machine concentration camp.
Kallus: Ha ha ha! I can’t wait XD
Leia: And we’ll have technology to loot and people to join the cause! XD
Meanwhile in Galaxy-3.
*3 ABY, Apartment, Moon of Alderaan, Core Region, Galaxy-3*
Ahsoka: So… other me cleaned out the fridge?
Kaeden: Unfortunately. I couldn’t say no, she’s practically a war veteran who barely experienced normality.
Rex: I know how that feels. Took me weeks to settle to peace and quiet.
Ahsoka: Aye. At least she got some kind of break. Her life is stressful. I feel bad.
Rex: The Multiverse is weird. Morai, please don’t let any more portals open randomly.
Morai: Hoot, hoot, hoot! Chirp! (That’s technically the Gatekeeper’s job!)
Kaeden: Sorry. Still don’t speak bird.
Morai: Hiss!
Kaeden: Alright! Chill, you crazy Convor!
Ahsoka: Food shopping?
Kaeden: Yup, although, I tend to be ‘hungry’ for other types of food 😏
Ahsoka: 😳
Morai: Hoot! XD
Rex: NO NO NO! LARTE! STOP CORRUPTING MY BABY SISTER!
Ahsoka: Rex, chill!
Rex pouches on Larte and the two scuffle.
Ahsoka: Guess I’m food shopping by myself then 🤷‍♀️
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hellowkatey · 3 years
Text
Febuwhump Day 10
Prompt: “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
Read on AO3
Ghosts of the Past
"And med supplies?" Obi-Wan asks, glancing up from his datapad. "How are our bacta levels?"
"Good, sir," Cody nods.
"Yes, I suppose we've had a good streak going. Okay, now fuel levels?"
"Half tank."
"Weapons?"
"Forty units short, I believe."
Obi-Wan nods and types the order into the datapad.
"Alright, then the last things on the supply lists are..." he trails off as a strange feeling washes over him. He looks up, his eyes scanning the hanger. Troopers mill about in the usual bustle of days where there are no battles, just some administrative duties, and down-time. He can feel Cody staring at him, and is about to ignore the feeling when he spots a non-military ship on the other side of the hanger.
It's a modest ship, but it's not the vessel that is bothering him. Two mechanical troopers talk to a man standing next to the ship. From this distance, Obi-Wan can't quite see the man, but he can feel him.
In the Force, this person is familiar in a way that causes chills to run down his spine and the distant sound of bombs exploding to echo in his mind.
"Sir, is something wrong?" Cody asks, and Obi-Wan's head snaps back to him. He points across the hanger to a ship and a small group of humans talking to the mechanic clones.
"Do we have visitors?"
"Uh, diplomats I believe. Requested to land for maintenance on their cooling system. Is there a problem?"
Obi-Wan doesn't answer him, just hands him the datapad with the supply orders and starts to walk in their direction. He doesn't know what he hopes to accomplish he just... has to find out.
He weaves through the various groups of troopers, only giving himself time to nod as they salute in his presence. The closer he gets to the man the better his view gets and the greater the buzzing in his stomach grows. Though Cody described him as a diplomat, he isn't dressed as so. He wears modest travel clothes and boots that are nearly as beat up as Obi-Wan's. The only true indication that he is some sort of political leader is the golden pin that secures his dark green cloak.
The man brushes his fingers through his short brown hair, pushing it off to the side, his dark eyes flickering up to meet Obi-Wan's.
And he stops dead in the center of the aisle, his entire body feeling numb and his throat tight. He must look like he's seen a ghost because a moment later he feels Cody's hand gently touching him at the elbow.
"General?" Cody sounds worried, which is enough to get Obi-Wan to tear his eyes away from the face of a man who might as well be a ghost. He doesn't know what to say to his commander, who is looking back and forth between him and their guest.
A guest that just handed his datapad to the mechanical clones and now approaches them.
Obi-Wan generally considers himself well prepared for most situations that may be thrown at him. War has taught him a lot about always being ready for a fight or a hasty retreat, and how to properly read a situation to decide which is appropriate.
But now, Obi-Wan is at a loss. All he can do is stand there as a piece of his past he never thought would be dug up again walks right up to him.
"I take it you're the Jedi General," he says in a thick Outer Rim accent. "I thank you for your hospitality in allowing us to get repairs."
"It is fortunate we were on your route, I suppose," he smiles weakly. "Where are you coming from?"
"Right, I haven't introduced myself, apologies," he bows respectfully. "I am Representative Nield of Melidaan."
Nield. Oh, Nield. No wonder the Force felt so familiar and so heavy. He hardly looks different than he did three decades ago-- just a bit older, but time has been kind to him.
"Melidaan?"
"Outer Rim. We've avoided this war so far so I'm surprised you haven't heard of us... though that's not an invitation."
"Of course not. I just..." It's obvious Nield doesn't recognize him, and a part of him is hesitant to reveal his identity. They did not exactly part on friendly terms, and Obi-Wan doesn't have the same face he did when he was thirteen. But there is a curiosity there he can't help. He wants to know what happened after he left the Young in their victory. "I hadn't realized the name was changed."
Nield blinks. "What did you say your name was, general?"
The moment of truth. "Obi-Wan Kenobi."
Now Representative Nield looks as though he's seen a ghost. His jaw literally drops, eyes growing wide. He reaches out, looking as though he is going to cup his cheeks before resting on his shoulders and Obi-Wan sees Cody flinch out of the corner of his eye.
"Obi-Wan?" Nield says, barely above a whisper. Suddenly it is like they are thirteen again, two of the oldest among a group of children fighting for peace. "How the hell did they drag you into another war?"
__________
Cody watched as the men embraced-- Nield, he called himself. A political leader from Melidaan. Cody has never heard of that planet, but General Kenobi appeared to be familiar with it. Somehow he is also familiar with this Nield despite looking uncharacteristically petrified by his presence. It made Cody nervous that maybe this would be some sort of old enemy that they mistakenly cleared, but now that he examines the men talking quietly to one another, he realizes they look at one another in the same way his brothers do.
How the hell did they drag you into another war?
He didn't know General Kenobi had been in another war-- in fact, nothing in his knowledge of recent Republic history indicates there were any other major wars fought unless he found himself in a small scale one. Though, General Kenobi is often talking about how foreign it is to be a soldier when Jedi training is to be a peacekeeper. He has given no indication that he has a history of being a veteran, but it would explain how he is so skilled with battle strategy.
Cody thinks about this as he heads to the mess to find a cup of caff. It's late in the evening, but new orders have come in that he has to prepare for.
Unsurprisingly, General Kenobi seems to have come to the same conclusion. Cody finds him pouring his own mug.
"We seem to always be on the move," the general says with a weak smile as Cody walks up next to him to grab his own mug.
"Did they mistake us for General Skywalker again?"  
He chuckles, moving out of the way so Cody can pour his own mug. "I believe Anakin and the 501st will also be joining us."
"Yes sir, I saw. Rex sent me a comm as soon as he found out."
"It's been a while since we've seen them, I'm sure the men will enjoy the reunion. Hopefully, we can get some more reprieve after as well."
They start walking back toward the briefing room, caff and a few ration bars in hand. Speaking of reunions...
"Was your visit with Representative Nield... enjoyable, sir?"
"I did not expect to see him again. The last time I saw him he was quite adamant about how much he hated me."
He looks at the Jedi with surprise. "I wouldn't have guessed, sir."
"We were young. Headstrong and passionate about what we believed in."
"You met him on Melidaan?"
"In a way," General Kenobi's pleasant disposition clouds. "Back then it was called Melida/Daan, though. I assume you heard him marvel at how I ended up in another war?"
Cody nods, suddenly feeling as though he is impeding on the privacy of General Kenobi's past. He opens his mouth to assure him he has nothing to explain and it is none of his business, but then the Jedi is talking.
"The Melida and the Daan were two groups on this planet stuck in a bloody civil war. They hated one another so vehemently they couldn't decide on a name for their planet, so the Republic eventually gave up and hyphenated. A Jedi was sent there to try and facilitate peace, but she was captured. Qui-Gon and I were sent to extract her."
General Kenobi stops outside the briefing room, leaning his back against the wall. "The Master was taken by a third group-- the children of the Melida and the Daan who were fed up with the fighting. They called themselves the Young. Nield was one of the Young, which is how we met."
"So the Jedi stayed to help?"
He tucks his arms into the billowing sleeves of his cloak, exhaling deeply "Not the Jedi, no. Qui-Gon had to get the injured Master back to the Temple, and we had no jurisdiction to fight their war. I was given a choice, and I felt my place was to help the Young."
There's a tightness to his words that doesn't go over Cody's head. His time in the war is obviously not something he has talked much about-- he's never even heard it referred to, and they are certainly in the context in which it would come up. Cody has learned General Kenobi isn't usually keen on talking about himself. He seldom mentions his master, and talks even less about his apprenticeship. He doesn't want to push the subject, but something is nagging at him...
"How old were you, sir?"
General Kenobi looks from the spot he fixated on behind Cody's shoulder to making eye contact. He doesn't say anything for a moment, and Cody has a horrible feeling about the answer.
"Thirteen," he mutters. Were the corridor not empty, he may not have heard it at all.
"Thirteen? They left a kid alone to fight a war?"
"I was one of the oldest among the Young, actually."
He says this as though that doesn't make things all the more horrifying. Cody feels bad enough when the shinies come through, barely ten standard years, but at least they have the bodies of grown men. But true kids? An army of children younger than Commander Tano?
"Pardon me for speaking freely, sir, but the Jedi allowed this? Your master let you stay in a war zone?"
"Well I..." he looks at Cody in a way he has never seen General Kenobi look before. There is this deep sadness behind his bright eyes that reminds him that he is not just a High General and a Jedi Master. "Cody, the choice I made was between going back with Qui-Gon, or leaving the Jedi Order."
Cody's throat goes dry. Suddenly his vague references to choices and the Jedi not being involved make sense, and dammit, he shouldn't have been so dense to make him spell it out. "I'm sorry. I didn't know..."
"Cody," General Kenobi says with a kind smile that Cody doesn't feel he deserves. "You couldn't have known. To be honest, and I'm not proud of it, not even Anakin or Ahsoka know."
"Sir, then why tell me?"
He shrugs. "I trust you with my life, commander, why not with my teenage war stories, too."
Cody is relieved to see a glimpse of the usual dry-humored General Kenobi coming back through, but he still is at a loss of words from all of this.
"In all seriousness," General Kenobi continues, "I don't often think about my apprenticeship. Anakin has me to remind him about all his embarrassing moments, but I usually don't have to face my past like I did today," he pauses. "Can I ask your advice, Cody?"
"I'm not sure what help I could be, sir, but sure."
"Should I tell Anakin about Melida/Daan?"
Cody is certainly not qualified to give padawan parenting advice, but the general doesn't seem to care. He tries to consider if he has any relatable experiences in his short life, but clones were not raised with such individualized instruction. But he does remember nights spent with his batchmates, talking about anything and everything to pass the time. And when he sees Rex again they will try to find a time to sit down with glasses of brew, talking about every dumb plan Skywalker implemented and how it somehow worked out for the best and continuing their count of stupidly self-sacrificing things Kenobi does that threatens to give the entire 212th a heart attack.
He always considered the Jedi to be like little families-- families that train each other to be excellent warriors, but families nonetheless. In a way, the clones have adopted that familial mindset as well. With the galaxy unsure of what to do with them, they at least have one another to get through it all.
So maybe he does know a thing or two.
"It can't hurt, sir. It's probably something Skywalker would want to know about."
"Oh yes," the Jedi Master muses. "He was outraged when he found out about the time got to ride a varactyl for a royal a hunting party."
Cody raises an eyebrow. "Sir?"
He smiles, shaking his head. "A story for another time, Cody."
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newswcanonprompts · 4 years
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prompt #37 - Jedi are like Magpies and love their clones
sorry we haven’t posted in forever! to make up for it, i’m posting one of our longest and detailed prompts (maybe even the longest)- this came from a LONG discussion a few weeks back, and it was a lot of fun. this idea morphed a ton, and it became this huge thing. this is personally my favorite one, so hope you enjoy!
Jedi collect trinkets and wear them!!! Hand them to others as a very important gift
The Clones dont really get it, but they are happy
The jedi make them things like jewelry, keychains, little beaded things, colored strings, they’ll give them feathers, you name it 
Its another way to show that they are individuals, and that the jedi know them specifically 
The veteran clones have long keychain type things and the shiny clones want them very much and it’s something they look forward to 
The padawans hand the commanders things and being sad when the CC’s tell them they can’t take them into battle 
Krell gets found out earlier.
“Okay, look, i know krell is… well, he is *something* and i don’t want to accuse a master of the order but have you looked at his men?! where the hell are their keychains?!”
The padawans stage a protest at the senate because how else are they going to make sure that their troops know they are loved and get their trinkets 
This idea can get angsty really quickly (finding trinkets after battles, in ship crashes, or post-order 66), but we won’t do that because of how angsty this server already is, we need some fluff sometimes
Palaptine can commit self delete 
Clones will paint armor for padawans cause that is how they show honor and stuff 
The clones, upon figuring out what they mean, give their jedi trinkets also
Mirialan padawan holding armor they got: “ITS GREEN LIKE ME!” 
There are little figurines, some painted rocks, some little shiny things found on the battlefield
The clones who aren’t as good with their hands singing songs or telling stories
The jedi record them and keep them on little datachips that they keep on them at all times
Barriss doesn’t go bad because this is happy time
The jedi padawans start a riot / protest outside the senate building because some clones got their trinkets taken away by asshole civilians because they’re “not human”, just copies
The (now very pissed off) jedi sprung into action
If a snooty senator(s) takes away a clone’s trinket, the jedi just sit back and grind to a halt. Because if the clones, the PEOPLE WHO PROTECT THE REPUBLIC, are gonna get treated like that, the war can wait 
The jedi knights and masters just meditate wherever the padawans are protesting
This is done to ‘keep the peace’
If anakin hears a snooty senator degrade the clones, he starts ranting and shouting about their individuality and accomplishments, while pointing at each trinket.
Someone live streams this
Luminara joins in (barriss is right behind) 
Aayla too 
Luminara, anakin, aayla, tag teamed shouted speech 
Ahsoka and barriss are being held back by the CC’s (ahsoka is making some very crude hand gestures and barriss is like “i can name every bone in your body as i break it” - cause barriss has all that healer knowledge) 
Once these three are done, mace windu comes along with the council. They think mace is going to scold the three of them until mace starts shouting at the senators too. The council just lets mace do all the talking. 
This is the most watched live stream this year. It’s very funny and starts a ton of memes (obi wans face, yoda meditating, the look of “oh shit” on the original snooty senator’s face, the look of surprise on everyone when mace starts shouting too - there is also a gif made of the council looking at the situation, looking at themselves (mostly mace) and then they all step back to let mace do the talking, the clones faces when they see that three jedi and then the jedi high council are defending them)
Mace, rolling up his sleeves: “okay let’s do this” 
The senators: backing away in fear 
Obi wan might commit a war crime right now because no way people can talk about his troops like that
Obi wan: “am i allowed to kill a senator?”
Cody: “General, do not-”
This whole thing leads to a massive debate and overwhelmingly good PR for the jedi and clones
Shady sheev doesn’t like that. Good PR for the jedi? No thank you. But since this is a fixit he gets his ass kicked later on so everything’s fine (skeevy sheev has to scramble to try to fix his plans though) 
All the padawans from that one lightsaber episode (the one on ilum where the younglings got their kyber crystals) are there and SHIT’S GOING DOWN
Petro in particular is very close to kicking someone’s ass 
Caleb dume is there also.
“Master depa said we should never raise our blades in revenge or anger. But this is not revenge.” this is war, this is justice, this is defense of a defenseless group 
Padme also joins in all of this (but much more calmly)
She also might make some passive aggressive comments about the snooty senators trash outfit 
She and all her senator friends are gonna blacklist the original culprit 
Padme and bail organa (they also got help from many jedi) put in the clone rights bill the next day
In the halls outside the debate chamber, padme threatens to gut people with her hair pins if they don’t vote in her favor
sure, it’s *technically* extortion, but come on, who’s gonna stop her? those pins are pointy y’all
Anakin tried to help draft / present the bill but he spent most of his time ranting about the injustices the clones have to face (leia had to get it from someone)
Anakin, out of breath: “AND ALL YOU SENATORS JUST SIT HERE, DOING NOTHING, WHEN THEY’RE OUT THERE DYING FOR YOU-” 
Padme: “okay ani i got this, drink some water please” 
Ahsoka also jumps in 
Plo, who’s watching the debate: “little ‘soka, please don’t hurt anyone” (but he’s not about to stop her, after all these are his sons we’re talking about) 
If someone said “well they’re not slaves?” anakin would go OFF. if you thought he was angry before… you got another thing coming.
“I AM A FREED SLAVE! I KNOW WHAT IT IS LIKE! THESE MEN HAVE LESS RIGHTS THAN I DID AS A SLAVE!” 
If the public doesn’t know about his childhood before, they do now
Imagine the shock 
Padme: “Ani, deep breaths, it’s gonna be okay.” 
Also padme, to the other senators: “well i mean he’s not wrong you assholes”
Padme is also making very well timed comments and suggestions. It’s the most successful day she’s had since she became senator
She’s also revealing all the senators’ dirty secrets
Padme: “oh, senator so-and-so, i released all your finances and your voting history on the holonet. I’m sure your supporters will love that you’re embezzling funds. Oh, you lost your support? Tragic.” 
The jedi also have dirt on everyone and they just casually let everything slip like they weren’t secrets 
Shady sheev Palpacreep is in his little podium thing during the debate, and he is very pissed, because his plan is getting ruined, but he can’t let it show or else people will discover the truth about him
Anakin: “isn’t it great that we’re finally doing something about it?” 
Sheev, pained: “Of course-” 
This whole debate is still live streamed - and it’s very popular
The senate who made the original comment and started all of this is #cancelled 
This is the greatest thing the galaxy has ever seen / watched because drama 
If a jedi dies, and they aren’t brought back to the temple, they are burned with the other dead on the battlefield. Young padawans take their master’s trinkets in remembrance, wanting to follow their path and have tangible proof that the master passed into the force but that they left their mark in the world
You do not burn the trinkets. Krell tried once. It almost started a jedi civil war (maybe that’s how he gets found out) 
Or maybe krell was found out because he gives zero trinkets to his men, and everyone caught on and were like “hey wtf man” 
But if you wanna make it angsty ( cough cough umbara ) then krell tells the 501st to remove / burn / throw out their trinkets or he’d do it for them 
He gives them an example by slicing a very special one that anakin and ahsoka both gave to rex 
Krell also slices one of dogma’s. It was the only one dogma had because  he was newish to the battalion at the time and wasn’t sure if accepting the trinkets was against regs or not. Krell slashes it and dogma doesn’t say anything but there were tears in his eyes 
All the jedi who find out what happened replace all the trinkets so fast. They also give krell’s men a shit ton of presents.
Krell’s men have no idea what to do with them, but they are so touched a few shed tears when they get them 
The clones get small tattoos of patterns that the little padawans drew for the men
The tattoos are small because some of them *might* just be random squiggles but the padawans looked so happy the clones just had to get them tattooed
Anakin orders japor wood with padme's bank account to make snippets for the clones because it’s not only a jedi thing, it’s from anakin's homeworld - and that’s like the highest praise you can get from him
The clones might not know exactly what it means but they know its super special 
Padme figures out a way to buy japor wood in bulk. Anakin is very touched by this 
When snooty senators start badmouthing clones, yoda just sits there and meditates to drive the senators nuts
“Sitting, i am, because stand you bitches, i cannot” 
Padme gets many trinkets from the 501st because they all *know* about her and anakin
Any trinkets that she gets she likes to incorporate into her outfits (like the warrior fashionista that she is) 
She embroiders some of them into her dresses and hairpieces 
They both get a TON of trinkets when the twins are born
Padme also gives trinkets to the 501st, some of the 212th, and all of the coruscant guard. Especially fox cause she sees all the work he does and the senators he has to deal with 
She’s besties with the coruscant guard. Like yeah, she knows the 501st and they know about her and anakin (and she’s one of them because of it) but the guard is who she’s always with
She probably wore red on debate day to represent them
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danger-xylophones · 4 years
Text
The Ice General Part 3
{masterlist}
Words: 3270
Warnings: Rex continues to be a dumbass but y’know, this is necessary for progress. Rex might seem kind of OOC but I would like to defend it by saying, this is early-war “Regs” Rex and that I’ve got a plan
Taglist: @tararuthven // @questforgalas // @000ayfh // @pinkiemme
<- Previous 
……………………………………
“I can’t believe you punched him.” A muffled voice filtered into Rex’s foggy mind, cutting through the haze the cool bite of a wintery breeze. 
“What? You were about to yourself!” A different voice lower and less controlled answered back. The owner sounded incredibly offended. 
“Yes but I stopped!” The first voice hissed back. “You can’t just go about bashing peoples’ skulls in whenever you feel like it! What if one of his men saw?”
A scoff followed the question and Rex fought to peel his eyes open. He was on a cot, that much was for certain. Above him was the ‘ceiling’ of a tent and to his left was a roll-away cart that looked to be stocked with all sorts of medical equipment. He was in the med tent. Great. But how the hell had he gotten there? “I will bash in whoever’s skull whenever I feel necessary. He made you uncomfortable, kih’vod, he got what he deserved.” A clone. The second voice belonged to a clone.
A low sigh barely filtered through the heavy tarp material of the tent. Stifling a groan, Rex propped himself up on his elbows. Backlit by firelight and lamps were the outlines of two figures outside the entrance of the tent. The shorter of the two looked a bit strange so Rex had to wager a guess that they had their head in their hands. “Rex didn’t know, vod. It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t deserve having his lights knocked out for that!” There was so much frustration encapsulated in the first speaker’s voice that it took Rex a while to piece together that the one speaking was Y/n. When had he made her uncomfortable? 
As if attempting to answer for him, Rex’s attention was brought to the dull pain in the side of his head. Slowly, he touched his fingers to the epicenter only to find a small piece of fabric had been stuck to it. All at once, everything came back to him and the captain was confronted with a swirling mix of anger, confusion, and guilt. He should’ve known better than to grab at her like that. But, that didn’t quite match up with how violent her reaction had been. And why had Hyde punched him? Jjannex 1. He brought up Jjannex 1...Ice’s face appeared in his mind’s eye. Her e/c eyes were clouded and distant, shimmering with some long-suppressed memory that threatened to overwhelm her. Her mouth had twitched downward in a fraction of a second, a slight wobble of her bottom lip had accompanied it. Her eyebrows creased, her posture stiffened. She had looked devastated...he hated that the first emotion he got her to show was such a destructive one. 
“I still think he deserved it, if not for that then for sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong. Nosey ol’ captain, ain’t he?” Hyde’s tone was abrasive and ignited something within Rex’s chest. 
“Watch it.” Ice barked back, her silhouette adjusting to accommodate the finger she jabbed into Hyde’s chest. “He still outranks you.” The duo lapsed into silence for a moment though it was tense and unpleasant even from Rex’s position inside the tent. While Rex was left to stew on his earlier actions that led him to this predicament, two more figures emerged outside the tent. 
Ice’s tone lightened considerably as she spoke though there was still the undercurrent of bitter frustration. “Ah, good, Bolt…” 
“What’s the damage?” The voice of Bolt was not what Rex was expecting. There was the twinge of an accent hiding within the low timbre of every clone’s voice. But his lilted on certain words, making him sound like he was singing. 
“Minimal. I did what I could for him.” Rex’s brow quirked at Ice’s words. She had done what she could? Rex’s fingertips danced over the bandage once more. “The skin was broken where Hyde made contact on his temple, that’s what knocked him out. His bottom lip’s split where he macked off Hyde’s cuirass and he’s got some bruising under his eyes from the impact as well, his nose took most of the weight.” Ice explained briskly and Rex had two seconds to fall back and pretend to be asleep upon realizing the general was on the move. “His temple wasn’t bad enough to warrant a patch,” The woman’s voice continued, unwavering, as she flicked the flap of the tent out of the way and began to approach. Three sets of footsteps followed her own. “So, I stuck with a classic plaster. I applied some ointment to his lip but wasn’t sure what to do for the bruises. Checked his nose, didn’t seem broken.” Her voice grew louder and louder as she drew closer. The Ice General was standing at the head of his cot, just out of reach. There was the familiar sound of plastoid shifting and Rex felt a hovering presence over his face like he was being analyzed. 
“Huh,” the presence backed off. “See what you mean. Well, he’s been mildly concussed and his bone is bruised but other than that, he should be fine. I’ll give him a bactashot when he wakes up, general, and he’ll be good as new come mornin’.” It was Bolt who had hovered over him, the field medic. “How long’s he been out?” 
“We just passed the eight-minute mark.” Her reply was immediate. He’d been passed out for eight minutes? Maybe he should let them know he’s awake...But, then Ice would fall back into her emotionless drawl and hearing her like this-so emotionally free?-it was surreal. Rex wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t want her to stop. 
A low whistle came from somewhere farther in the tent. “Damn, you sure did a number on him, Hyde.” The specific cadence in the man’s voice alerted Rex that Fritz was the fifth person in the tent. 
“He touched her!” 
A dead silence followed his reply. 
“He grabbed my arm.” Till Ice jumped in to rectify it. The captain heard a soft ‘oh’ fall from Bolt. 
A rustling came from the roll away and Rex would wager a guess that Bolt was digging for the aforementioned bactashot. 
“Y’know, I can’t say I blame you, Hyde. Pretty sure I would have done the same.” Fritz piped up, sounding as though he was deep in thought. 
A snort came from Bolt. “You almost did! When Skywalker clapped her on the back-thought we’d be finishing our mission alone.” 
“Lay a hand on my wife and I’ll end your life, that’s all I’m saying.” 
Rex’s heart plummeted as a chill seemed to creep through him. Wife? Rex thought. That, that would make sense. Fritz and Ice were awfully close. But Ice was a Jedi. They couldn’t…
“Awee, Fritzy!” Ice cooed in a high voice, “You’re an idiot!” 
Fritz chuckled, loud and boisterous.“Your idiot.” 
Someone retched close to his feet. “Gross. Take your grossness elsewhere please.” 
“Why? You jealous that I’m the only one that can get away with flirting with the general, Hyde?” 
“No, I don’t want your abhorrent flirting throwing me off my game when I see Kacrobe again.” 
“’Abhorrent’, that’s a big word for you, Hyde.” 
“Sadly, it still dwarfs when compared to your ego, Fritz.” 
“Can it, you two.” Ice cut in. “Did you ask him out yet?” Silence met her question till it was broken with a high pitched squeal that made Rex flinch. “Hyde! Ner ori’vod is all grown up!”
“Hey, vod, you woke him up.” Bolt’s lilting voice commented dully. Rex stifled a defeated sigh and fluttered his eyes open as if he had been asleep so he had just enough time to see Ice retracting from the hug she had wrapped Hyde in. 
“Ah,” her voice had returned to the emotionless drawl as she folded her hands in front of her and smoothed her face out till no emotion was present. “Good evening, Captain.” And Rex had never felt more defeated. 
…………………………………………………..
Ice had been avoiding him ever since and Captain Rex was more upset by that then he thought he’d be. It was odd because it wasn’t like he and the General had interacted frequently before but at least if she had a matter to discuss with him, she would do it in person but now she’d just send someone to tell him. This also didn’t prove helpful in his quest to understand what had happened to the Veterans as now he had to understand her. The story of the Battle of Jjannex 1 was apparently as intricately intertwined with the Ice general as it was with her men. 
There was also another issue that had arisen-the commander and the general’s...relationship. Rex hoped that it was just some elaborate joke he was misinterpreting but the alternate reality had to be examined as well because it was treasonous. It was so against both regulations and codes that Rex was almost flabbergasted that he had to consider it. What made it worse? If it was true, he had to be the one to call them out on it. He had to go against the Ice general and her commander and her devoted men. If he got this wrong, he’d never hear the end of it, if he got this right-the grand army was out a general and his vod would be court-martialed, and if he did nothing? It was unlikely anyone would find out given the perpetual stoic general and the rather fun commander. Most people would just assume that it was a joke. But he had heard him call the general his wife. He had heard it straight from the source. But who would believe him?
“Hey, vod, you haven’t touched your food.” Fives’s voice was accompanied by a rough nudge of his arm that caused it to slide off his thigh. The captain scrambled to right himself as he turned to look at his newest recruit. 
“Sorry, got something on my mind.” The captain hurriedly coughed out and resumed aimlessly poking at his food to get Fives off his back. It didn’t work.
“Yeah, I could tell. Wanna talk about it?” Fives asked, evidently not willing to drop the conversation. 
Rex sighed through his nose. “No, Fives, I don’t.” 
“Really? Does it have to do with the fight you got into yesterday?” 
Rex couldn’t help but roll his eyes. After he had woken up, he had been engulfed in a largely one-sided conversation between himself in Hyde that basically boiled down to they would tell the truth about what happened to his men and then they would never bring it up again. “The truth” they had decided to tell them though was boiled down to he had brought up a sensitive issue and things had escalated. True? Yes. The truth? Not to him. The truth was that the Ice general and her men were hiding something and he was trying to get to the bottom of it. “I said I don’t want to talk about it, Fives.” Rex was trying to keep his voice under control, he had no right to yell at the private when his foul mood was in no way Fives’s fault. 
“Does it have to do with Ice? You haven’t been able to take your eyes off of her since yesterday.” He persisted and Rex let out a disappointed sigh. He liked Fives but his stubbornness that proved helpful in battle could easily turn annoying. 
“Would you please not phrase it like that?” The captain groaned, finally setting his ignored meal to the side. “I’ve been trying to keep an eye on her because I need to talk to her. She’s hiding something-her and the Veterans.” 
“Ah, yes, because that makes it any less creepy, alor’ad.” The younger man huffed. “Sir, with all due respect, maybe you should let it go? I’m sure that whatever it is, the Vets took care of it and it’s just a sore topic now.” 
Rex’s eyes grew wide as he was struck speechless. “I...I’m surprised to hear you say that, Fives.” The captain fought to keep his face from going slack as he struggled to articulate what he was thinking. “Normally, you’re the first to question stuff like this.” 
The private shrugged and finished up his meal before setting it to the side. “‘Been talkin’ to her men an’ they all love her. They trust her, captain, why can’t you?” Fives turned away when one of the younger 205th boys called his name and asked if he’d lend him a hand with something which left the captain time to mull over his question. Why didn’t he trust her? Part of him wanted to say that it was because she was possibly committing treason with one of her men. But Rex knew deep down that he hadn’t trusted her from the beginning. Why though? Because she was mysterious? Because he didn’t know why she acted the way she did? Because he didn’t understand why her men all had the same tattoo? Because he couldn’t figure out what made her so different from the other Jedi? 
That had to be it. He hadn’t worked with many Jedi but he had seen how they interacted with their troops and generally, it was always the same. They were respectfully distant-it was clear that most of them were concerned for their well-being but none of them were really close. None of them were named vod (except maybe Plo Koon). But Y/n L/n was. She adored her men and had even been called kih’vod. That was a big deal. That showed that their loyalty was to her. That showed that they trusted her: so why couldn’t he?  
“Captain Rex.” a clone cleared his throat to his left and Rex finally looked away from where Fives had disappeared off to. Hyde, of all people, was standing at attention beside him. 
“Uh, at ease…” Rex ordered out of habit though his heart wasn’t in it. “What did you need?” 
Hyde took a low breath as though he was preparing to do something he’d regret for the rest of his life. “General L/n was wondering if you would like to join us for a sparring match.” 
The captain’s eyebrows shot up. She was…? Why? Hadn’t he horribly offended her not even 24 hours ago? “Um, sure. I guess.” He agreed hesitantly, not entirely sure that this was real. Hyde dipped his head and beckoned for him to follow. Hyde led him farther and farther away from where he had stopped to have his breakfast until he found himself in a makeshift enclosure made from a cliff and several tents. It was still early morning so it was relatively dark and cool, making it the perfect time for a quick match but what Rex didn’t understand was why only he had been invited.
“Hyde,” So, he decided to ask, “Why just me?” 
“Sparring is...personal for the general. And, since she knows you don’t trust her, she was hoping to make up for last night.” Hyde explained almost solemnly, as he came to a stop on the edge of the ring. What did that mean? ‘Sparring is personal’. Why? Once again, the captain found his already innumerable questions perpetually multiplying. “Wait here, I’ll go get her.” Before Rex could stop him, Hyde had swept away and disappeared into a tent the captain had come to recognize as L/n’s. 
As Rex waited in the blissful coolness of morning on the desert planet, he found himself distracted by the Ice general once again. She was looking to make up for last night, that much he could wrap his head around but what he didn’t understand was what possessed her to want to. Did she know he had overheard Fritz call her his riduur? Was this her way of keeping him quiet? Or was this her way of distracting him from Jjannex 1? By offering to let him in on a personal tradition, was she hoping to stop him from further investigating the matching tattoos? If it was, then she would be disappointed to learn that she would fail. If anything, it made Rex want to keep digging.  
“Ah, Captain Rex, it is good to hear that you decided to join us.” The blond man was pulled from his ponderings by the voice of the woman he was so troubled by. Her voice was still, as ever, betraying neither elation nor distaste for his agreement. She came around his left, clad in her light tan tunic that seemed to be the uniform of the Jedi. Her cloak had been done away with, presumably, so it wouldn’t get in the way while she fought and that left the captain with a clear view of the two lightsabers that hung on her belt. “I hope you were not busy when Hyde found you?” 
It took the captain a moment to realize that it was a question. “Oh, uh, no, no. I wasn’t.” Rex’s eyes fell away from hers, cold, calculating, frozen, and to the lightsabers once more. “Are you gonna keep those on ya?” He nodded to the weapons. 
Y/n’s head tilted to the side as she processed his question. She looked like a curious loth-cat. “They are my defenses, aren’t they?” 
“Your defenses?” Rex didn’t like the sound of that. Why would she need her lightsabers to defend her during a sparring match with a clone? 
“Indeed…” She dragged out before turning to Hyde who was busily fidgeting with one of his vambraces. “Did you not explain what sparring for us entails?” 
The red-head looked up for a moment, disinterested. “No, was I supposed to?” 
Ice took a moment to sigh, her face was still unfaltering. “Yes, Hyde, you were supposed to.” She shook her head before turning her unimpassioned gaze back to Rex. “I suppose you will just have to learn through observation, Captain.” Y/n moved on swiftly, spotting something behind the captain that had her enraptured in a moment. “Fritz! Who have you got?” She projected as she moved past the blond who turned to see what she was talking about. Commander Fritz was quickly approaching with Jekyll, Bolt, Empio, Codex, Boom, and two others the captain didn’t recognize. “Ah, Codex, I see you’ve returned. And we have Boom, Phantom, and Nexus as our three other newcomers? Welcome, boys.” The three men who were apparently new to sparring just like him quickly saluted Ice till she made a gesture for them to relax. “Alright, Phantom, Nexus you two take that corner. Jekyll, Empio, Codex, over there. Hyde, Fritz, beside the tent and finally, Bolt and-” 
“Sorry to interrupt, Ice, but I’m gonna sit this one out-prefer not to get my ass whooped today.” Bolt chirped from the seat he had taken atop three crates off to Rex’s left. 
...what? Rex couldn’t help but think. Ice blinked at the medic before shrugging. “Alright then, hand Rex your blaster.” ...what? He thought again as the dark haired man pressed his blaster into his hand. “And your helmet since he didn’t bring his.” ...WHAT? “Captain, I suggest you take up a position there.” Ice ordered softly and pointed to where she meant. Still perplexed beyond all measure, the captain complied. A few seconds passed as Ice observed the gathered men and how she had placed them and Rex couldn’t help but shift on his feet, his nerves getting the better of him. With a nod, Ice grabbed her lightsabers and moved to be equidistant from each man. “Gentlemen, set your blasters to stun.” ...W H A T? 
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123 notes · View notes
basura2319 · 4 years
Text
Who lives, who dies
Tumblr media
Pairing: Rex x reader (gender neutral)
Anonymous said:
“Hey! I’ve recently gotten back into the clone wars and Rex has stolen my heart 😂 would you be willing to do a Rex x Jedi!Reader but with a bit of angst where it’s older Rex in the Rebels series and he talks about the reader to Ezra? I hope that made sense 😂”
WC: 2.5K
Warnings: Takes place in Rebels, Ezra being nosy, angst, character death, blood, *S7 spoilers for tcw finale*, and things in italics are flashbacks.
A/N: I hope I did this fic some justice and sorry for making you wait so long. I had to force myself to rewatch the last episode a second time because that episode really messed me up, anyone else feel that way?
Rex never thought that he would be serving again since the Clone Wars. But times were changing and ever since the Ghost Crew came to him for help, he thought long and hard about joining a cause like the Rebellion. And when he did, it made him feel almost happy that he was doing something purposeful again. Something he’s choosing to be a part of. But at the same time, whenever he went on missions and saw rebels dying, ones he grew newly acquainted with, it brought back tons of memories he spent so much time on Seelos trying to repress.
Memories of his dying brothers, of Anakin and Ahsoka, and especially of you. Which was why he was outside of Chopper Base. Sleep eluded him right now and on those days when couldn’t sleep, he went outside to sit underneath Atollon’s night sky to think.
He sat on one of the crates by the shooting range and pulled out a hologram. With shaky hands, he turns it on and a tentative smile falls onto his lips at the image he sees.
It was a hologram of him—his younger self—and you, smiling at each other. Judging by the clothes you both wore, someone could look at the hologram and never guess that he was a soldier and you were a Jedi knight. But you were more than just a Jedi; you were his love. His everything. And this hologram, Rex thought, was his most prized possession. Because showed it a time in his life when he was in utter bliss. A feeling he would never have again.
Rex felt tears begin to build up as he gazes over your face again for the thousandth time. The light in your (e/c) eyes as you look to Rex and the crinkle on the edges of your eyes as you smiled. He remembered the day this hologram was taken. You convinced Rex to join you on a night around Coruscant. You had been the one to take the image without his knowing and you gave him a copy of it to keep. Since then, he has kept it with him at all times, as it is the only thing he has to remember you by.
He blinks the wetness in his eyes away. How he wished things turned out different. If only he believed Fives. If only he didn’t answer that incoming call from the Chancellor. If only they got out of the blazing cruiser fast enough. If only—
CRASH!
Rex immediately clicked the hologram shut and reached for his blaster, aiming at whatever made the crates behind him, he noted, fall over.
“Whose there” He growled. “Show yourself.”
It was probably those Atollon spiders again. How did they get inside the base?
“Relax! It’s just me!” said a panicked voice behind the crates. “Ezra!”
Rex sighed in relief. It was just the kid.
“What are you doing here?” asked Rex in exasperation, giving the boy a stern glare.
“I would ask you the same thing,” Ezra replied with raised brow. “Seeing as how you’re just…sitting here, doing what exactly?”
“That is none of your business,” said Rex sternly.
“Okay then,” he said sheepishly. “Well I guess my being here is none of your business so—”
“Ezra.”
“Alright,” he groaned. “I came out here to practice my lightsaber forms, see.” He waved his lightsaber around as proof. “And well…”
Ezra stared at the ground in shame. “And then I saw you by yourself a-and I didn’t mean to spy on you. I was—”
“Kid,” sighed Rex, feeling a slight tingle of warmth reach his face. “It’s alright.”
Rex shouldn’t feel embarrassed. It’s not like he could in trouble for possessing the only image of you he had. And it’s not like Ezra understood the context of what he saw.
He opened his mouth to say something but stopped seeing the way Ezra looked at him. Something akin to concern? Pity? The young boy looked as if he had more to say.
“Something wrong?”
“No—it’s,” Ezra said hesitantly. “That person—in that hologram— I know them.”
Rex furrowed his brows in confusion. “How?” You died before Ezra was born.
“Kanan has these holo-recordings he’s been showing me,” Ezra began. “They’re mainly Jedi Knights teaching how to do a certain form. I saw them teaching a session on how to do the Soresu form, their name, I think, is—”
“Jedi Knight (Y/N) (L/N),” Rex finished hoarsely. The first time in a while since he had said your name out loud.
“You don’t have to answer this,” Ezra said with a curious tone in his voice. “But, did you work with them?”
Rex smiled, recalling all the adventures you both had. “I did, in fact (Y/N) was part of Torrent Company.”
He sat back down on the crate and so did Ezra. “I met them a little after I met Commander Tano.” He chuckled. “They came in to save our forces after the disastrous stunt we pulled off in Felucia. Had they not came in to rescue us, we would have died trying to fend off those clankers.”
Rex, in his mind, remembered it all. You coming out of nowhere with  gunships, screaming at Anakin to fall back. He recalled Skywalker being almost stunned at your presence.
“What are you doing all the way out here (Y/N),” Rex remembered Anakin asking you as they got inside the gunships.
“Here to save your ass,” you commented back. “Only this time from a battlefield instead of from Master Kenobi.”
Anakin chuckled. “Always with the quip remarks.”
“We both trained together since we were kids,” you stated with an arched brow. “Why are you surprised?”
“So you’re a general now?” he asked.
“No,” you answered with a knowing grin. “But I am assigned to one.”
“No way!”
You threw your head back and laughed. “You better believe it.”
“Well then, I should introduce to my second in command, other than you,” he said, smirking at the offended huff you made. “Meet Captain Rex.”
He remembered you reaching out to him as you hung to the straps of the gunship to shake his hand. “Hello Captain, I’m (Y/N) (L/N), but please call me (Y/N).”
He was so entranced by your smile that he almost forgot you were speaking to him.
“Nice to meet you (Y/N),” he said, silently thanking the force that he had his helmet on so you couldn’t see the tinge of red in his cheeks. “And please, call me Rex.”
Rex smiled at the memory. “(Y/N) was a very clever Jedi, but most importantly they were compassionate. They treated us clones like equals and was always there to listen and understand our grievances.”
“They sound amazing,” Ezra replied. “I would’ve loved to meet them.”
Rex paused. “I think (Y/N) would’ve loved to train you and certainly wouldn’t hesitate for a second to be apart of this rebellion if they knew what became of the Republic we both swore to protect.”
His smile disappeared. He really wished you were here to see this.
Ezra looked to Rex with sadness. He could feel the clone veteran’s grief so strongly and could also feel his love for you; just like how he could feel the love between his parents as a kid before the Empire took that all away.
“They didn’t make because if the order did they?”
“No…” said Rex hoarsely. “If it weren’t for them, I wouldn’t even be here…”
Everything fell apart after Mandalore.
He had no idea he was going to be forced to kill (Y/N) and Ahsoka by just one simple command that was enough to overpower his senses.
While Ahsoka managed to escape the blaster fire from him and his men, he was relieved to learn after his chip was removed that you were in your quarters when the order happen, giving you time to hide in the vents.
He was so afraid that his men might’ve gotten you. But he could see the fear and realization on your face when he woke up from his chip removal.
“Fives…” you said in a hushed voice as you three ran to open the hangar doors. “He was right about everything.”
Rex reached for your hand and gave a hard squeeze. “I know, but it weren’t for him, I would’ve killed…”
He couldn’t say it. The thought of you or Ahsoka being executed out of his own will, he—
He just didn’t want to imagine it.
But things worsened. The cruiser was beginning to break apart as they got out of hyperspace and the cruiser was on its way to crashing on a moon.
His men. His brothers who he loved so much, were all waiting for them at the main hangar. Willing to kill themselves trying to complete the mission.
Tears were streaming down his face as he argued this realization to you and Ahsoka.
You knew more than anyone how he felt. Removing his helmet, you pressed you forehead against his in affection. “Rex…it’s okay. I know your brothers. Ahsoka and I know that they are good soldiers and this isn’t their fault.”
He knew they might not have a chance in finding a ship and leaving, but he went with the plan of trying to reason with Jesse, his little vod, on not killing you or Ahsoka. But Rex already knew his brother was long gone, lost somewhere in his mind. He was desperate when it didn’t work and they kept firing at them.
To add to the ongoing mess of things, their chance of escape was taken away by Maul when he took the last remaining shuttle.
They were reaching the moon’s surface rapidly and running out of time.
“Wait,” you called out to Rex. “I see another unharmed ship. There!” You pointed to the Y-wing bomber.
You deflected the blaster shots away as you three ran towards it. Using the force, you wasted no time in pushing Rex towards the ship and jumping your way over.
“There’s only two seats!” exclaimed Rex in panic. “What do we do?”
Your heart seized at the problem. You looked over at Ahsoka who you realized didn’t make it over to the ship, still trying to hold the clones back. She wasn’t going to last long.
“Rex…” you called out, voice strained.
He looked to you, face contorted in anxiety. “What is it?”
You took his helmet off so you could stare at his face one last time. “You know that I love you, right?” you said breathlessly. “More than anything, more than life itself…”
“Y/N stop—“
You kissed him, one last time, savoring his lips as tears leaked from your eyes. “I’m so sorry.”  
You shut the cockpit canopy before he could stop you. “I hope one day you can forgive me.”
He was screaming your name and it broke your heart in two. Rex tried opening the canopy but it was too late.
“Ahsoka go!” You force pushed the clones out of the way and continued to deflect your lightsaber against their firing.
“No, I’m not—”
You didn’t let her finish. Using your remaining strength, you push your friend towards the ship. Rex felt the cruiser begin to tilt, watching how it made you lose your balance and fall towards the opening of the hangar. The cruisers billowing speed and harsh winds caused the Y-wing bomber to fly out before Rex and Ahsoka had a chance to help you.
As Rex gained control of the ship, he maneuvered through the rubble trying to see if you were alive, possibly hanging onto debris. He didn’t see you. Instead moments later, he found your mangled body in the debris along with his brothers.
He fell to his knees, gathering your body in his arms and wept. His watery eyes gazed at your form, noting the blood matted on your head that must’ve been from something blunt that collided with your head. The dried blood from your nose and mouth. And the most haunting thing of all was your (e/c) eyes, staring lifelessly at the sky.
It only made him cry out in anguish.
Ahsoka watched from afar as her friend mourn, silently crying at everything that went down. She felt the connection between her and her master die and now, you were gone too. To save her and Rex.
Rex reached a shaky hand over to close your eyes. He didn’t want to leave you here, but what choice did he have? Someone was going to come to evaluate the site soon. They had to leave.
Rex and Ahsoka took one last look at the burial site they made and left with a creeping feeling of numbness. When they went into orbit, Rex stared at the moon below while reaching for his necklace that held the hologram of you he hid under his shirt.
Pressing the device to his lips he whispered, “I love you… and I forgive you, my cyare”
They made the jump to hyperspace, uncertain of what their future would entail now.
***
“Did you ever go back to the crash site?” Ezra asked a little after Rex finished talking.
“No,” sighed Rex. “The place for all I know could be swarming with Imperial probe droids or they probably took whatever they deemed important.”
Ezra reached over to put a hand on his shoulder in a comforting gesture. “I might not know (Y/N), but from what you’ve told me, I think they would be proud of where you are now.”
Rex smiled at the young Jedi. “I’d like to think so too.”
***
All beings become one with the Force after death.
That’s what you’ve been told along with all Jedi.
Yet you didn’t feel like you were apart of the Force. Sure you could feel it binding you, but it was nothing like you’ve imagined. You thought that after death, you wouldn’t recall your past life, but you did. Or that you wouldn’t be aware of anything that’s happening in the universe.
You are able to see and acknowledge what’s become of this universe. And you're horrified of it. You’re horrified of what you know.
The only thing you’re thankful for is that the one’s you cared about made it out alive.
Ahsoka, you gathered, is following a path you knew suited her apart from the Jedi ways and you couldn’t be even more happy for her.
As for Rex, you never left his side after death, just not in the way you expected. He couldn’t see you. No one could unless they were Jedi. But that only happened when you wanted to be seen.
But you’ve watched over him after all this time and watched his struggle in adjusting to a new life as a free man. That didn’t mean you couldn’t feel his guilt though. His guilt that he lived whereas his brothers didn’t and lastly, his guilt over you.
You were filled with sadness whenever he grieved over you, like what he was doing now. Sitting by himself, staring at the hologram you gifted him.
You hated that you couldn’t talk to him or that you couldn’t give him some sort of comfort. There was so much you wanted to say to him, but oh how you couldn’t wait to speak to him to again. It’s only a matter of time.
For now, all you can do now is be in his presence, wishing he knew you were here.
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