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oceansssblue · 7 days

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Hello, I hope that you are having an amazing day. If requests are still open, I have a funny Star Wars prompt/or/oneshot if you want. You know how in Top Gun, after Maverick flirts with a lady at a bar, only to find out the next day that she is his superior officer. What about a similar situation in the Clone Wars era, in which one of the members of the Bad Batch, or one of the 501st like Fives, flirts with a female Jedi reader (who's probably in her early twenties) at the 79s, not knowing that she is a Jedi General. Only to find out the next day that she is the Jedi General assigned to them for their next mission.

Her appearance in the bar makes her look nothing like a Jedi. She just looks like a civilian until she is in her jedi robes the next day. She doesn't deliberately deceive them or anything. She just wanted to unwind after an undercover mission. She just didn't think bringing up that she is a Jedi was important, she assumed they already knew. The only hint she gave on their "date" night was a happy and playful "see you tomorrow" as they part ways to get to their respective homes/barracks. She is happy to see them the next day.

Cool fun little oneshot! Decided to go with Crosshair, seems more like his thing.

Hope you like it!

Xx,

Sky.

"SEE YOU TOMORROW"

CROSSHAIR/F REDADER 📩💖

WARNINGS: ALCOHOL, FLIRTING&TEASING.

Your muscles still ache after a two year undercover mision in Alcaz. Spending long hours of running and hiding in the capital will do that to anyone; even a Jedi. Your first mision with the Order started years ago; even if you're still young right now. Everyone starts early these days; you went from youngling to padawan and Jedi Knight in just a blink of an eye. The war makes you feel older than what you really are.

It's weird being back in Coruscant. Back in a normal setting were you don't need to constantly be aware of your surroundings –even if it's instinctual, now–; where you're not constantly in danger. Entering 79's, your eyes quickly flickering over the crowd of tipsy clones and the dance floor, a tiny smile makes it up to your face. You feel inmediately relieved, somehow. You don't need to pretend here. You don't need to be a soldier, a Jedi Knight, a General. You don't have responsabilities and lifes dangling from your shoulders. Here, right now, you can just be you, a simple girl in her twenty-two's.

Happy smile still in your face, you make your way towards the bar. You order a sweet drink light on the alcohol side to start with; turning around and taking small sips while you scan the bar distractedly. There's a few eyes on you already. Not because you're necesarily pretty –though you believe yourself to look alright–; but simply necause you're one of the few natives around here, and more so a woman. Clones will always be ever the gentleman, it's ingrained in their discipline, their sense of honor; but they're still men, real humans, and they have urges like everyone else. Like Jedis do, too, no matter what many people think.

You're not really in the mood for sex, though. You're too tired for that; your plan is to spend a few hours drinking and chatting and then return to the Temple. You've got a meeting tomorrow, and you should make sure you get your well deserved, comfortable sleep. You're almost drooling thinking of a bed already, but you'd like to unwind a bit first; even though your body is tired, you feel your mind too active to surrender to dreamland yet. Plus, you need to disconect from your previous mision and adapt to your new situation; to the new changes.

A few troopers that you had the chance to meet before starting your jump around the galaxy to serve to the Jedi and the Republic recognises you, and you quickly find yourself chatting amicably in a booth with them. They're kind, and perfectly respectful; they speak to you as if you were a normal person, though –not a general, not a Jedi–, and you soon fall into a relaxed posture and a lazy smile. None of you speak about war, about their fears and worries; but of hopes and desires, jokes and secret lovers that await for them patiently all over Coruscant. Some look flustered after realising they've confessed such things in front of you; but you just shake your head and smile. You're glad they're finding some happiness wherever they can.

On your third drink in –and probably the last one, judging by your flushed cheeks and the low hum of carefree excitement & arousal spreading inside of you– you feel another stare on you. It's heavy, it's intent so clear it's almost screaming at you; and you listen to your Jedi instincts, eyes slowly flickering around the bar to find it's owner.

You come up with a pair of dark brown eyes. They're the exact same shade of most of the clones in the GAR; and yet, it's stare so much more intense. It could almost cut through you and hit someone on the other side.

You study him curiously in the same way he has been observing you before. Even sitting down in a booth with some other soldiers, you can tell he's taller than most; the shape of his body and muscles long and thin, agile, though still strong. It's impossible not to notice the tattoo around his right eye; it fits him well, really. What surprises you most about him –besides his stare– is his hair, though; a mix of greys so pretty it almost shines under the lights of the 79's.

He's still dressed up on armour, like a lot of other soldiers on the bar. His is black and grey with a few stripes of dark red; a white skull with a "99" underneath it on his right pauldron. It's right then and there when you understand who he is, who they are; and your eyes twinkle in amusement, your smile widening. This is Clone Force 99, the squad that will be under your command. The Council told you they were different, that they had special abilities very useful for battles; but they fail to mention you they were literally, physically different as well.

You understand... Crosshair's –he must be– cautious and curious study then; he might be wanting to find out who exactly their new General is, and how does she behave when she's not on duty like everyone else.

You shoot him a grin and Crosshair's neutral, almost uniterested face turns into a smirk. He arches an eyebrow, and makes a gesture with his head; a welcome for you to join them in their table. You nod and say your goodbyes to the troopers; smiling and shooting one or two more playful comments before making your way across the room, walking confidently to this squad of extraordinary men.

"Hey there, boys" you greet them, deciding for informality in order to not spoil their night of fun from the start. "Care if I join?"

There's various reactions around the table. Crosshair looks amused. Echo and Tech are purely surprised –the later one quickly scanning you almost as if trying to find information about you with just his eyes–; while Hunter looks hesitant. Wrecker is openly excited and happy.

"Yeah, take a sit!" He pushes his brothers to one side, making room for you in the circular booth their sitting in, ignoring the other's quiet, pained grunts.

They all look a little tipsy too.

You chuckle and take the offer, letting down your drink on top of the table and sitting besides Wrecker. Crosshair arches his eyebrow again, still finding amusing how you seem confident enough in a table –a bar– surrounded by men. He likes confidence in a woman, but such levels are a bit more rare.

"Comfortable?" He asks, his voice deep and smooth, almost a lazy drawl, and you grin back at him.

"Very" you answer, emphasising your answer by taking a long sip of your alcohol and laying lazily against the booths backrest.

After holding his stare for a few seconds, you turn your attention back to the rest of the group; scanning them curiously. They do de same with you.

"So, didn't have time to do a change of clothes?" You point out. "Did you come back from a mission today, or is this just an night outfit choice?"

Wrecker laughs, will Echo and Hunter show a tiny smile. Tech is completely serious still, lost in his thoughts without tearing his eyes from you. Crosshair also stares at you.

"We came back from a mission a pair of hours ago, yeah" Hunter finally answers, relaxing slowly. "Thought we should enjoy a bit of freedom before getting back to work tomorrow".

His voice is deep as well; a bit more soft yet raspy.

"Ah" you answer, smiling guiltily. "Got it. Well, I'm not going to cut out your fun, no worries. Feel free to drink and chat as much as you like. Also... This is still a good fit. Beautiful armour, guys".

This time Tech blushes, Echo clears his throat in silence and Wrecker, Hunter, and Crosshair, all smile widely. Ah, yes, you forgot; armours are precious to all Mandalorians, including clones, and you could have very well call them...

"So you think we're hot? That it?" Crosshair drawls, eyes interested.

You laugh shrugging your shoulders. Yeah, well, you might be a little too tipsy. This is definitely your last drink if you want to keep things professional. Force knows if you weren't a Jedi and this weren't your men you'd have had already tried to take one of them home. Huh, it seems you're not as tired as you thought.

"Pretty" you correct him, if only to mock him a bit and play with him.

Crosshair's stare darkens and you can feel his arousal and want calling you through the Force.

You smile down playing with the rim of your glass distractedly, and feeling a sudden wave of shyness. Alcohol is a dangerous thing.

The thought makes you giggle a bit.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The night goes on, and you switch to a non-alcohol drink as promised to yourself. The conversation turns normal and more easy as the clock ticks by; all of them being very interesting, fun people to chat with. Crosshair and Echo are more reserved than the rest; different types of quiet observing and thoughtfullness. You suspect the second one isn't as comfortable with your presence as the rest –while you have no doubt that that wouldn't suppose a problem in battlefield, you know he's an excellent soldier–; while Crosshair... Crosshair's intentions are still quite clear.

He's bold, you have to say. Most troopers wouldn't want to risk being reported for misconduct even if they know most Jedis would just gently shut their intentions down if it were the case. Clones usually don't want to risk it; though it's evident that Crosshair doesn't think you will or plainly, doesn't care.

It doesn't bother you. He's attractive, and it feels good to be desired; you're a Jedi, but you're also just twenty-two, and you can't help it yourself. Still, you're nothing but polite to him, if only a bit of playfullness here and there. You're not going to go to bed with him, not before your oficial meeting; not while you can still resist.

You sigh with a smile.

"Well, boys, it has been a pleasure" you start, standing up and patting Wrecker's shoulder besides you. "But I think I'm gonna go and try to shut an eye. Have your fun without me, see you tomorrow!"

Tech eyes widen slightly, observing your retreating figure while Crosshair makes a move to follow you out of 79's.

Tech grabs his brother's shoulder and pulls him back down, ignoring Crosshair's almost snarl.

"She expressed her desire to go to sleep, Crosshair. Let her be" he opted to say, still not 100% sure of his theory before proving it with a quick search on his datapad.

Crosshair sighed and gulped down the remaining of his drink.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

No matter that the Batch had left 79's pretty late in the night, they were all rised and prepared to meet their new General at 0600 puntually. Their faces carried nag under their eyes and various degrees of tiredness; but they weren't being shipped anywhere, so there was no real problem with that. It was just a formal meeting so they could put a face to the name and greet each other; then they'll be left alone to enjoy the rest of their shore-leave day.

"I hope she's nice!" commented Wrecker while they waited up in a line in front of the Marauder.

Hunter hummed.

"I just hope she lets us do our thing" he muttered, clearly not very happy about the new placement.

None of them were particularly enthusiastic; they had never had a personal Jedi General before, and it would be a big change for everyone involved.

"I am confident she will" answered Tech, perhaps the only one holding positive thoughts about it. "I have thoroughly researched our General in the early hours of the morning and she has an impressive record on undercover missions and other side tasks. It seems she is usually sent on unusual requests as well, just like us. In adition, she is fairly easy going. I am positive we would all be able to adapt to each other well".

Right when Wrecker was going to ask with a deep frown etched on his face how did he know she was as "easy-going" as Tech affirmed, a female figure crossed the doors of the hangar walking towards them with wide confident steps.

Wrecker's, Echo's and Hunter's faces stared back in shock; while Tech nodded firmly as if he were explaining something to them, and Crosshair followed the young Jedi's movement full of intrigue and a masked surprise.

"Morning, troopers!" She greeted them, still a few meters away from them.

Her smile was radiant in the greyness of the hangar bay.

Crosshair leaned towards the smartest of his brothers, subtle.

"Punishment for fucking your Jedi General?" he asked in a distracted whispered, eyes never leaving the woman aproaching them.

Tech answered completely unbothered by his antics; posture firm.

"From an informal reprimand to proper decomissioning".

Crosshair smirked.

"I'll risk it".

He arched an eyebrow in amused defiance when she looked straight at him.

THE END.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Taraaa! Here it is love, hope you like it! It was a little fun cheeky thing to write :)

Not checked after finishing writing it cause I have exam tomorrow and still got a few finals left, but I hope I didn't make a lot of mistakes!

Only two more requests left before I jump onto another tbb Mermaid fic. Don't worry, yall, I will reopen requests the future, just let me survive my exams first ;)

Stay tunned!

Xx,

Sky.

Back to masterlist here:

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vizslasaber · 10 days

Text

FRIENDLY FIRE ──── ii.

SUMMARY | The mission continues, and with it, your growing suspicion of Krell’s authoritarian methods. But the troopers relying on you—including Rex—lead you in the right direction: one of unyielding kindness, even when it’s hard.

PAIRING | Captain Rex x female Jedi!reader

WORD COUNT | 3.7k

WARNINGS | Combat/action, mentions of injury & death, Krell being a bitch as usual, gender neutral use of the term “sir,” gratuitous use of Mando’a, and one (1) curse word. Also, a Shakespeare reference because I’m a historian & couldn’t help myself.

A/N | Yay, chapter 2! As you'll probably notice, I changed the reader's story a little bit, and I like it better now as it adds more tension to the plot. Enjoy!

< PREVIOUS CHAPTER

SERIES MASTERLIST | TAGLIST | NAVIGATION | AO3

For once, you’re glad to have woken up early. It gives you time to get in a pep talk you know will motivate the men rather than bring their morale down, as you know Krell’s speech—which he gave upon arrival—would have done.

“Alright, men,” you call briskly, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face as you pace back and forth in front of the battalion. “You would all do well to remember that it’s not just the safety of the Republic relying on our success—the other battalions have placed their trust in us. Generals Kenobi and Tiin will stop approximately two kilometers outside the capital city, waiting for us to get close enough to begin our initial assault.”

You glance at Rex, who’s standing beside you, and nod for him to continue.

The Captain steps forward. “We’re about elevens klick behind them right now, and fifteen klicks from the capital,” he says. “We’ve got to make good time—and it’s going to be hard, what with the enemies we’re sure to meet along the way. The native population doesn’t play around, and neither do their weapons capabilities. Is that understood?”

“Sir, yes, sir!” comes a unanimous shout from the rest of the troopers. They start to disperse, packing up camp faster than your eyes can follow, and you nod to yourself in satisfaction.

“Rex,” you start, then hesitate as he turns to you with a raised eyebrow. “Is it… are you alright with forgoing titles? I always seem to forget to use them.”

Rex looks almost torn—likely between protocol and what you’re asking—but eventually nods. “Of course, sir,” he says, then blanches. “I mean…”

“It’s okay,” you assure him. “I just don’t want to feel bad if I slip up.” He smiles slightly, one corner of his mouth quirked upwards. “As I was saying—do you have a chief medical officer that I can talk to?”

“Yeah, that would be Kix,” Rex tells you, then frowns. “Is… everything alright?”

“Yes, don’t worry.” You adjust one vambrace, looking out at the men, then at General Krell on the far side of camp, who’s been surveying the battalion tempestuously since you began to speak. “I just… wanted to ask him something. About battlefield medicine.”

“Are you a medic?” Rex asks, shifting his helmet to one hand.

You grimace at the clinical, militaristic term. “Something like that.”

Rex looks doubtful, but motions to a trooper with an intricately buzzed haircut who's putting supplies into a pack. "Kix—get over here!" he calls, before nodding to you and leaving as he puts on his helmet.

"General," the trooper greets with a crisp salute, and you notice that his pauldrons have the universal sign for medic painted on them in a bright, obvious red. "How can I help you?"

"Actually," you say with what you hope is a courteous smile, "I was hoping to ask you the same question. You're the battalion's CMO right?"

Kix tilts his head. "Yeah..." he says. "I'm not the only medic, though. Got a whole team of 'em. We specialize in what we do, sir, train for it our whole lives, so I don't want to be rude, but—"

"Don't worry about that," you cut in, shaking your head. "I'm not a medic—I haven't been trained in combative tactics—but I am a healer."

"So, like," Kix pauses, searching for the right word as he does so, "a Jedi doctor?"

You snort. "That's... one term for it, yes." You watch as Kix moves the weight of his medpack from one shoulder to the other. "Force healing is an ability that a Jedi is born with. Not every Jedi can become a healer—using the Force to reverse the effects of an injury is not something that can be learned."

There's a pause as Kix nods slowly. "Reversing the effects," he echoes, fascinated. "Even bacta can't do that—it just speeds up the healing process. Sounds like we could use your help."

"Yes," you say. "That's why I wanted to speak with you." You let out a sigh, remembering one of the first things your master told you as a Padawan. "But it's not all-powerful. Just like bacta can only heal what is able to be healed, Force healing cannot create a life force where there isn't one. If someone is near-death, trying to bring them back would render me unable to defend myself from exhaustion."

"Right," Kix replies. "So no resurrection."

"No resurrection," you affirm, smiling. "But I can help. And I know triage."

"Oh, that's even better!" Kix exclaims, then holds out his wrist comm. "Here—we've got a medic frequency—" he waits for you to scan his comm to yours, and when the happy little chime sounds, he pulls away. "Thank you, General."

"Of course," you say as he turns to leave. "And thank you, Kix."

The battalion falls silent and prepares to move out—but just as you’re double checking your armour, a cold, sharp presence casts a shadow over you. Turning around, you make eye contact with General Krell, who's now standing just a short ways from where you and Kix were talking—like he was listening.

“Conspiring with the soldiers, General?” Krell sneers, putting a mocking emphasis on the last word. You raise an irritated eyebrow.

“Conspiring?” you repeat, glancing at the hastily assembling troopers. “They're hardly the enemy, Master Krell. I only want us to win this campaign as quickly and smoothly as possible." Before you can reign in your impulse control, you add, "And continuing to let the troopers rest will get us there faster."

“Rest is a luxury we cannot afford!” Krell snaps, and you jump in surprise at his excessive volume. He leans forward, acrid breath forcing you to resist the urge to cough. “The other battalions are far ahead of us, and you think we have time.”

“We do,” you reply calmly, despite your quickening heartbeat. “The men are keeping a good pace, especially with this difficult terrain. Fifteen clicks isn't far, especially with the supplies we have.” You purse your lips. “Now, I suggest we set off. Talking will slow us down as well, Master—and as you so wisely pointed out, luxuries are not something we can ask for.”

You walk away, then, and feel a rush of satisfaction enveloped in a Force signature that you’re almost positive belongs to Rex. Resisting a pleased smile, you let your hands drift to where your lightsabers are clipped to your belt before moving to walk beside Rex.

“Captain,” you greet, taking notice of the way Rex’s shoulders tense just slightly. “Shall we?”

“Yes, General,” Rex replies, voice clipped. He motions for the battalion to follow, and soon the two of you, along with a still angry General Krell, are leading the troopers through the unwelcoming terrain of Umbara.

The journey is precarious and—as much as you hate to admit it—tiring. Hours pass, and soon you’re almost to the checkpoint Rex had pointed out on the map, situated just outside the city’s heavily fortified border.

You stop for a moment, leaning against the glowing trunk of a colossal tree, and fidget anxiously with the tabards of your tunic.

“Sir,” Rex says, and you turn around. “We’re ready to bring our forward platoons in. What do you suggest?”

“We should continue with Anakin’s original plan,” you say quietly. “A surgical strike on the outer defenses—we must take great care not to needlessly damage any of the city’s buildings. I'd prefer minimal collateral damage when we’re done.”

It is a plan you’ve been turning over in your head since you’d landed on the Umbaran surface. Hopefully—and assuming there were no hindrances—it would succeed. Despite being overly idealistic, and sometimes a little too impulsive, Anakin is nothing if not a strategist—when he wants to be.

“If I may,” sneers Krell from behind you, and you set your jaw. “I do not think that General Skywalker’s futile plan will be necessary.”

In spite of yourself, you clench your fists at your sides. “And why not?” you grit out, not bothering to turn around as Krell comes to stand at your side, towering over your figure.

“Captain Rex and his insolent men have already brought it up with me, and I explained this to them as well. I hold the authority here, and I am ordering all platoons to execute a full-frontal assault,” Krell continues, seemingly unfazed by your irritated expression. “We will travel along the main route to the city and force them to yield.”

“Force them to—” you cut yourself off and draw in a deep, calming breath. There is no emotion, you remind yourself vehemently. There is only peace. “Master Krell. With all due respect, we can't just storm in there with no plan. Casualties will rocket if we try something that impulsive. I just don't think—”

“Need I remind you, General Neridian,” Krell interrupts scathingly, “that you are only one week into Knighthood? We may be of equal military rank, but I am a Master, and therefore hold precedence over your commands.”

“This isn’t about me or you,” you hiss, swiveling to face Krell as your patience is finally pulled taut. Ignoring the shocked stares you know the troopers have fixed on you, you cross your arms. “It’s about this campaign. It's about our mission, and it's bigger than us. So I suggest we agree to disagree, and carry on with General Skywalker’s plan—”

Krell clicks his tongue. “Losing your temper already?" He asks, and you could swear he's taunting you, waiting to see when you'll do something mortifying like raise your voice (but then again, he's done it several times already and it's only been a day). "How unfortunate. Perhaps the Council should not have been so adamant that you face the Trials so early."

You blink and take a step back. He's right, and you know it. You're one of the youngest Padawans to face the Trials in generations, as are all your peers, thrust into a rushed end to your training at the beginning of the war. So many of your friends—Darra, Galene, Ferus, and of course, Anakin, the most tenacious of them all—seem to have risen to this unique challenge with their heads held high. But all you can seem to do is flinch away from the ugly parts, the parts that remind you of just how unprepared you are for these new and daunting responsibilities.

Unclenching your fists, you swallow the bile in your throat and try to stop your hands from trembling. “The Council,” you say, voice tight, "made their choice. And so must I make mine." You turn to Rex, who's standing just behind you and gripping his helmet with both hands. “Captain—prepare the troops. We’re going with General Skywalker’s plan.”

“I…” Rex’s knuckles have gone white with how hard he’s clutching his helmet, and he looks strangely helpless. “I’m sorry, General, but—the regs state that General Krell outranks you due to his status as a Jedi Master.” He presses his lips together and averts his gaze from yours, cheeks red with what you know is anger. “I’m afraid that General Krell’s orders do indeed… take precedence over yours.”

Beside you, Krell looks more satisfied than you’ve ever seen him. The Besalisk turns to the battalion and crosses his upper set of arms over his chest.

“Troopers!” he barks, and the soldiers stand at attention simultaneously. “Prepare to move out!” He presses a button on his wrist comm, and a holomap flickers to life. “You will take the main road straight to the capital. You will not stop and you will not turn back, regardless of the resistance you meet. We will attack them with all our troops—not some sneak attack with a few men.”

You close your eyes and clasp your hands behind your back. There is no emotion, there is peace.

It feels less like a mantra and more like a meaningless, empty chant. Peace, you think despairingly, looks to be farther than ever.

"Sir." Rex clears his throat, making you look up to see him watching Krell like one might survey a blown fuse at risk of setting fire to a building. "Sir, General Neridian is right. This is practically a suicide mission. I don't think—"

“What you think, Captain, is irrelevent. You have my orders, and you will follow them explicitly,” Krell growls, then leans forward, turning to the Captain. “Do I make myself clear, CT-7567?”

Your eyes widen in shock and you glare at Krell, crossing your own arms over your chest to mimic Krell’s stance. “It’s Rex, General,” you snap. “Captain Rex. That’s how he introduced himself, if you've forgotten?”

Many troopers turn to you, and you can tell—even under their helmets—that they’re clearly surprised at your derisive tone. You ignore them, turn on your heel, and storm away, but not before you hear Rex mutter, “Crystal, General Krell.”

The path is lit with some form of concentrated bioluminescent light, making it easier for you to see where you’re going. The clones have the advantage of night vision built into their visors, which makes it hard not to envy them. That alone, that feeling so unbecoming of a Jedi is enough to make you feel a sting of shame, not unlike the feeling that so often came with a scolding from Master Venn when you were still a Padawan.

You wonder for the millionth time if you’ve been forced into Knighthood too soon. Of course, there is nothing to do about that now—every war needs warrior, after all—just like there was nothing you could do when Master Venn told you the news just one week years ago.

She was grim when she told you, and your stomach goes cold with the memory of how she delivered the news, like she was handing you your own death sentence. Now, you know why.

And some have greatness thrust upon them, you think bitterly, remembering how often Master Venn made you read ancient poetry as a Padawan, the kind so old it's still stored on dusty books instead of firmware.

“General.”

You turn to find that Rex has fallen into step with you and smile. “Captain,” you acknowledge. “Forgive me. I was just…” you clear your throat. “Lost in thought.”

Rex—now wearing his helmet—nods and turns his gaze to the path ahead. “Thinking about the plan?”

“No,” you admit sheepishly. “Just about—” you gesture vaguely to your surroundings “—all of this. This war, this strife.” Shaking your head, you fidget with the one of the lightsaber hooks on your belt, clasping and unclasping it. “How fast I've been thrown in, and whether or not it’s necessary.”

“Hm.” You can hear the frown in Rex’s voice. “If it’s any consolation, we clones have mixed feelings about the war, too.”

You raise an eyebrow and turn to look at him. “How so?”

He gives a one-shouldered shrug and turns his head away. “Just that… well, I’d rather do without all the lives lost, but... without it, we wouldn’t exist, would we?”

Frowning, you consider this. “I suppose you’re right,” you concede. “But it is the will of the Force that you came to be. And,” you add, shooting Rex a sly smile, “the galaxy would be very different if you hadn’t, hm?”

There’s a moment of silence, during which you get the feeling that the troopers behind you are listening to your conversation. Rex seems lost for words, until he clears his throat. “Me specifically, sir?” You nod, and Rex adjusts his helmet. “I—I don’t know. I’m just one man, aren’t I?”

“That may be so, Captain, but you’ve made more of a difference than you think,” you inform him. “I think I’m correct in assuming that you’ve saved General Skywalker’s arse more times than he alone can count.”

Behind you, someone lets out a surprised laugh, then tries to cover it up as a cough. You smile at Rex and continue.

“And even without that, you’re responsible for many of the Republic’s victories in this war.” You shake your head. “The smallest insect feeding off of a single flower’s nectar has an impact on the entire garden. In the Force, we are all an entire world, a whole galaxy. Never assume that you do not make a difference.”

You feel a ripple of shock, gratitude, and something else—something you can’t quite place—flow through the Force. It’s a refreshing change from the tension and stress of the mission, and you’re just about to open your mouth to thank Rex when—

A white-hot warning flashes in the Force, and there’s a split-second warning as you scan your surroundings for the threat. Then—

“Get back!” you shout, and the troopers in your immediate vicinity immediately scramble off of the path.

They’re just in time—the sheer force of the explosion is enough to knock you off your feet and send you flying backwards. You land on something hard and feel all of the air get knocked out of you.

“Mines!” someone shouts. “Nobody on the path move!”

You freeze as you realize that the surface you landed on is, in fact, Rex—specifically, his armour. Your back is pressed to his chest plate, and you can feel his nervousness as though it is your own, but neither of you move for fear of setting off another mine.

Your cheeks burn when Rex finally leans forward, void of his helmet—it must have been knocked off it the blast. He's close enough to your ear to whisper, “Left. Slowly.”

It sends chills down your spine, but you shake them off. Drawing in a deep breath, you oblige, easing left and onto your knees, so you’re kneeling beside a disoriented-looking Rex. He looks shaken, but quickly gathers himself and cautiously stands up as he scans the area for his helmet.

“Oz is down,” you hear one of the medics say grimly. “So is Ringo.”

Rex spares you one last glance before swooping down to pick up his helmet, brushing the dirt off the visor. He moves to inspect the dead troopers. “Can you sweep ‘em?”

For a long moment, there’s silence as the medics gently move the bodies aside—you respectfully avert your eyes, feeling the sting of grief from the other troopers—and set them down on the side of the path. You hear Kix declare happily that there are no injured despite the two casualties and smile to yourself.

There’s no time to bury the dead troopers, so you settle for approaching Rex and placing a hand on his tense shoulder, over his pauldron with fading and scratched blue paint. “Nu kyr'adyc,” you murmur. “Shi taab'echaaj'la."

Not gone, merely marching far away.

Rex turns his head, and this close, you can see his wide eyes through the visor of his helmet. He takes a deep, shuddering breath, then raises his hand and places it over yours. It lasts for a split-second; the next thing you know, he’s pulling away, talking quietly to Fives and Kix.

“Come on, men,” you call to the rest of the battalion. “We need to—”

Chills fly up your spine and you stiffen, just as a loud, shrieking sound engulfs the path and—BOOM! More troopers go flying into the air. There are shouts of Basic, Mando’a, and Umbaran, and the firefight begins, during which you realize—

An ambush. You draw one lightsaber to deflect an oncoming barrage of blasterfire, but it's not enough, and there's no cover afforded to the terrain.

“Shit," you mutter under your breath as you switch on your shoto saber, calling on your knowledge of Jar'Kai to deflect the bolts with both blades. You raise your voice and call over your shoulder. "We’re fully exposed! Retreat to the forest!”

“We can’t, General!” shouts a voice, and you turn to see a blue-painted helmet accented with a small red arrow: Fives. “They’re coming from all directions—” he grunts and fires another blast “—we don’t have any cover!”

You feel your blood run cold. There’s no way for you to retreat—and it’s all Krell’s fault.

“We need them to follow us!” Rex answers, standing with his back to yours as he fires his blasters rapidly. “If we can draw them out, we can see them—and if we can see them, we can hit them!”

“Good idea,” you breathe, even though you know it’s too loud for Rex to hear you. Raising your voice, you lift one lightsaber so the other troopers can see the path. “All squads, pull back now!” You close your eyes for a moment to call on the Force, then propel yourself upwards and leap through the air so you’re at the back of the group. “I’ll take the rear! Cover me—sword and shield maneuver!”

The troopers obey, and soon you find yourself at the center of a tight semicircle formed by clones, all firing mercilessly on the Umbaran soldiers. You bite your lip and shift to Soresu to parallel the blasterfire more easily, deflecting the barrage as quickly and efficiently as you possibly can.

Just behind you is an AT-RT walker, defending your flank. Beside you is a trooper with intricately painted markings on his helmet, firing a rotary cannon and shouting, “Ha-ha! Where you goin’? Get back here, you wimps!”

You grin at his sheer audacity. “Careful there, trooper,” you admonish playfully, deflecting another blaster shot.

“They’re falling back!” Fives shouts, then, and you can hear the smile in his voice. The troopers all holster their blasters while you hook your lightsaber onto your belt.

“CT-7567, do you have a malfunction in your design?” You turn around and raise your eyebrows as Krell approaches Rex, looking furious. “You’ve pulled your forces back from taking the capital city. The enemy now has control of this route. This entire operation has been compromised because of your failure!”

You feel your hands start to shake. “Master Krell,” you say, trying your best to remain calm, “I gave the order to pull back, not Rex. We were completely surrounded and couldn’t risk losing any more men.”

Krell, looking furious at worst and disgruntled at best, saying nothng. Seizing the opportunity to walk away, you turn on your heel and breathe through the anger, urging yourself to keep going, trying to find a quiet place to rest and meditate for just a few minutes.

And you do. Closing your eyes, you lean against the firm trunk of a glowing tree, wiping sweat from your brow. It’s quiet, and you can hear the steady chirping of crickets (or something else) in the phosphorescent grass.

“General Krell,” says a trooper’s voice. It’s more firmthan Rex’s—Fives, you're pretty sure. “In case you haven’t noticed, Captain Rex just saved this platoon. Surely you won’t fail to recognize that.”

Blinking in surprise, you start to return to the group, wondering if this is an argument you’ll be able to break up—but the hum of a lightsaber being drawn makes you stop in your tracks.

“ARC-5555,” Krell growls. “Stand down.”

You feel your mouth go dry and approach the other troopers. Krell is standing with his back to you, but you can clearly see the green blade of his lightsaber from where you stand, hovering next to Fives's neck. If only Esya could see this, you think, horrified.

Don’t make any sudden moves, your Master’s teachings remind you. He could strike, and then you’d be responsible for the death of yet another man.

Just after the tense conversation between Fives and Krell, the Umbarans returned, sparking yet another firefight—this one with more casualties than the last. You were forced to retreat with the platoons, exhausted and spent.

Now, you sit on the ground, leaning against a fallen tree trunk in a brief moment of rest while the troopers drive away a small squad of Umbarans. In your hand is a pocket holotransmitter, refracting a cluster of blue light in the form of Esya Venn.

“I feel your discomfort from here, young one,” the older Theelin Master is saying, one eyebrow raised skeptically.

“Impossible,” you scoff. “You’re all the way on Coruscant, there’s no way.” There’s a moment of silence, during which the hologram flickers. You add, “And I’m not so young anymore, you know.”

Esya smiles wanly—you notice the shadows under her normally bright eyes with a pang of sadness—and shakes her head, her long colorful hair swishing lightly.

“You're still young to me,” she says softly, gently. "And you're avoiding the subject."

“I’m fine, Master,” you sigh. “Really.”

"You must not know me as well as I thought," Esya replies primly, a hint of a smile showing through her stern expression, "if you think you can lie to me like that."

You sigh again, frowning down at the flickering hologram. "It's just..." you shake your head, staring off into the foggy distance. "I'm concerned about Master Krell's tactics. They're aggressive, nothing like what you taught me of strategy, and they don't take into account the fact that we need to strive for as little casualties as possible—on both sides."

"Hm." Esya crosses her arms. "I have heard of Master Krell's... unconventional style. Is there anything else that concerns you about him?"

"I mean—everything, really," you admit, lowering your voice. "He has a blatant disregard for life that I haven't seen in a Jedi in, well... ever. He refers to the clones by their birth numbers, not their names, and he sees the native fauna as just—objects. Nuisances." You place the holotransmitter on the ground in front of you and shift your sitting position. "I fear that, to him, no life is sacred."

"If that were the case, I do not think the Council would have granted him the rank of Master," Esya says, but she looks thoughtful, like there's something she isn't saying. "Who is the commanding officer?"

"His name is Captain Rex," you say. "He's Anakin's first-in-command. I think he's just as worried by Master Krell as I am, and..." you trail off, unsure how to voice your next thought.

"What is it?" Esya prompts, light eyebrows raised.

"There's something about him—about Rex," you say finally, reluctant. "It's like the Force is trying to tell me something. That—that he's important. But I can't figure out why." You huff, fighting back a frustrated scowl. "I wish the Force would just tell me. But the answer is so—so elusive."

"As is everything since the start of this war," Esya replies, shaking her thorned head. She fixes you with a fond expression. "But, Padawan... you must remember that the Force is not your enemy, but your ally. If you open your eyes, it will show you the way."

"Yes," you murmur, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. The sounds of talking from the group's position behind you make you frown. "I have to go. May the Force be with you, Master."

“And with you. Always,” Esya replies before cutting off the connection seconds later.

You stand, tucking the transmitter into your pocket, then make for the rest of the group and move to stand beside Captain Rex. He's observing General Krell talk to General Kenobi via comlink.

“The capital city’s too fortified,” General Kenobi is saying grimly. “We still need your battalion to help us take it.”

“Resistance from the Umbarans has been greater than anticipated,” Krell replies. “We’re holding our ground at the moment.”

You swallow, averting your gaze to your boots. Holding our ground… what does Krell think is happening? Surely he hasn’t failed to notice the heavy casualties your battalion is sustaining.

“We’ve gathered intel on an airbase to the west,” General Kenobi replies. “It is resupplying the capital’s defenses.”

Taking a step forward, you cross your arms over your chest. “Should we attempt to take control of the airbase, then?”

Turning to you, General Kenobi nods. “Yes,” he answers. “Doing so will sever the capital’s supply lines, allowing the rest of our forces to move in.”

“I’ll see to it that the airbase is placed under our control,” Krell says decisively. It sends a wave of nausea through your stomach.

“Remember, Master Krell; Knight Neridian,” Kenobi says, mouth pulling into a tight frown, “The entire invasion depends on your battalion.”

Krell nods and severs the connection, then turns to you. “Neridian, have those coordinates mapped when you’re finished here, and make sure all troops are ready to move out immediately.” He walks away, leaving you alone with Captain Rex.

You watch Krell retreat with a feeling of incessant dread. “Right, then,” you say to Rex. “What do you say the odds are that we finish this thing his way?”

“Good question, General,” Rex says, and you can hear the smile in his voice as he watches the Umbaran sky darken with more eerie purple clouds. "I guess there's only one way to find out."

NEXT CHAPTER >

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vodika-vibes · 4 months

Note

Hi. First I wanted to congratulate you on your follower eveny. Second, I being a request for your event.

Can I get acacia: secret love with Dogma x female reader. The reader is Dogma's best kept secret and maybe his brothers find out when they spot the two of them together and when they bring it up to Dogma he tries to deny it but he's a bad liar. His brothers are really happy that he finally has someone and at the end maybe they meet the reader?

You're Late

Summary: You've been dating Dogma for 6 months, and you know that you love him and you know that he loves you, but you're starting to wonder why he's not willing to introduce you to his brothers.

Pairing: Clone Trooper Dogma x F!Reader

Word Count: 1310

Warnings: Some minor angst in the beginning due to a misunderstanding

Prompt: Acacia - Secret love

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @clonethirstingisreal (I remember that you love Dogma, so I tagged you, I hope you don't mind.)

“Hey, Dogma?” You ask, your voice soft as you watch him pull his armor on to get ready for another day at work. He really shouldn’t spend the night with you, he has to wake up so early to make it back to the barracks before anyone notices that he’s gone.

He says that the nights he spends with you are worth the early mornings.

But you worry.

“What’s wrong, cyare?” He asks, stopping what he’s doing to turn his concerned gaze over to you.

You shift in the bed and lean your head on his pillow, “You know you don’t have to spend the night with me, right?”

He laughs quietly, “Oh, ner cyare,” Dogma leans over to you and presses a feather light kiss against the corner of your lips, “I love spending the nights with you.”

“I know you do,” You reassure, “But you have to wake up so early to get back in time-”

“-and you worry about me. I know, cyare, I know.” He presses several more feather light kisses across your face, “But really, I’m more than happy with how we are right now.”

Dogma tenderly pushes some of your hair out of your face, and you lean your head into his touch with a happy sigh.

You’ve been dating Dogma for almost half a year now, and you’ve never been happier in your life, even if, sometimes, you worry that you’re just making his life more difficult.

Especially since he doesn’t take you places.

In half a year, you’ve never gone out on a date with him. And you know that part of it is because he doesn’t have any money and he’s embarrassed about it. But even when you offer to pay, he still doesn’t take you out places.

You’ve known from the first time you invited him to your place that you’re not good enough for him, but it still kind of hurts to know that he agrees.

“Cyar’ika?” Dogma’s voice is soft, and you look up at him, he has a look of worry on his handsome face, “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Cyare.”

You frown at him, and then sigh, “It’s not important, Dogma. Really.”

“I don’t believe you,” He glances at the chrono quickly, and then settles in the bed next to you, his arms strong around you, “Come on, cyar’ika, what’s wrong?”

You hesitate for a long moment, but Dogma’s gaze is steady and you wilt under his expectant gaze, “Are you ashamed to be seen with me?”

Dogma pulls back, “What.”

You drop your gaze, your eyes tracing the Republic cog on his shirt, “I know I’m not exactly the type of person that anyone would ever suspect that you’d be interested in-” You start as you likely flick a strand of your pastel dyed hair, “And-”

“Wait, wait. Cyare.” He presses his finger against your lips, “Why would you think I’m ashamed?”

You curl your fingers into his shirt, “...you don’t take me places. And you don’t come with me to places. So-”

Dogma exhales slowly before he presses his forehead against yours, “That’s not it at all.” He says quietly, “I’m not, and have never been, ashamed of being seen with you.”

“Then why?”

He flashes a crooked smile, “I’m greedy.” Dogma admits, “At the end of the day, I just want it to be you and me.” He lightly brushes his fingers against your cheek, “I didn’t know you were unhappy, cyare. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not unhappy.” You reply, “I was just a little…hurt.”

“That’s so much worse.” He says with a sigh, before he lightly kisses you. And then he kisses you again, and again.

“You’re going to be late,” You whisper to him before he can continue kissing you. Dogma pauses and he looks down at you, and then over at the chrono, and then back at you.

“Rex is just going to have to yell at me,” Dogma says finally, before he strips his shirt off, and crashes his lips against yours. “And,” He says between heavy kisses, “When I get back tonight, we’re going out.”

“A-are we?” You ask.

“Yeah. We are.”

Dogma doesn’t leave for work for another hour, making him very, very late.

Dogma slips into the barracks, over an hour late, hoping beyond all hope, that Rex didn’t notice that he was gone.

A fool’s hope, maybe, but he’s okay playing the fool for the day. Especially since it meant that he was able to make his pretty cyare smile at him and forget all of her hurt.

“Dogma!”

Kriff.

He immediately snaps to attention as Rex storms over, looking about as cheerful as a Rancor with a thorn in it’s foot, “Good Morning, Captain.”

“Formation was an hour ago, Dogma.”

“Yes sir.”

“You’re late.”

“Yes sir.”

Rex’s eyes narrow, “Where have you been?”

Dogma flounders for a moment. It’s not exactly like he can say that he hurt his girlfriend’s feelings and spent the last hour making up for it. “Respectfully, sir, I don’t want to answer that.” He finally says with a resigned sigh.

There’s a muffled laugh, and Dogma catches Fives looking very amused, while Jesse just looks stunned. Rex, however, looks thunderous. “You don’t want to answer.”

“No sir, I don’t.” Dogma replies.

For a moment, Dogma’s a little worried that his brother is going to actually explode, and he’s relieved when Fives interjects on his behalf, right up until he hears what Fives has to say, “Come on, vod. Don’t be too hard on him. He was obviously with his girl.”

Rex pauses, genuinely thrown, “His girl?”

“Yeah.” Fives grins and walks over to Dogma to tug down the collar of his neck, revealing the red mark on his neck, “See.”

Dogma smacks his brother’s hand away, “Do you mind?”

“You have a girlfriend and didn’t tell us?” Tup asks from another door, “What’s her name?”

“I don’t want to answer that either.” Dogma says dryly.

“Alright!” Rex grins, it's not a nice grin, “You have two options. Option one, you run until I get tired of watching you run. Option 2, you call your girl and invite her to meet the boys.”

Dogma stares at him, consideringly, for a moment, and then he sighs and digs his comm out of his pouch before dialing a comm code that he knows by heart.

The comm chimes once, twice, and then-

“Hey Dogma! Did you forget something?” She appears on the holo, a bright smile on her face, and a smear of paint on her face.

“Have I ever?” Dogma asks with an easy grin, “You have some paint on your cheek, gorgeous.”

She blinks at him, and then sniffs dramatically, “I have to become one with the paint before I can use it.” She grins at him fondly, “Were you late?”

“By an hour.”

“I told you~” She counters in a sing-song voice.

“Yeah, yeah. Worth it though,” Dogma replies.

“Stars, you’re such a man sometimes.” She says with a shake of her head, and then she turns away from the holo, “Anyway, what’s up?”

“My brothers want to meet you.”

“Like. Tonight?”

“Like now. How do you feel about hopping a taxi and coming and spending the day with me?”

She tosses her paintbrush to the side where it lands with a clatter on the floor, “Yes! But I’m coming as is.”

“Doesn’t matter, you’re prettier than all of us combined.” Dogma replies.

She laughs, “Charmer. I’ll be there in 15.” And then the comm cuts off and Dogma looks up at his brothers.

“She’s cute, vod.” Fives says with a grin.

“I’m happy for you, vod.” Rex says quietly, “Don’t ever be late again.” And then he rounds on his other brothers, “Oi! We have company coming! Do you want her to think we live in a sty! Get cleaning!”

#star wars #tcw #vodika-vibes follower celebration #clone trooper dogma x reader #dogma x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

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techhasmjolnir · 4 months

Text

Rites of the Covenant

Plot A: You're out on an extended scientific mission with Clone Force 99, assessing a planet for possible threats before the Republic moves ahead with plans for colonization. Damaged equipment leaves you and the squad stuck on the planet until replacements arrive.

Plot B: Hunter fulfills an intensely private mission of his own.

Author's Notes:

This is another one-shot story with a hefty word count (10,696). It features subject matter that is not intended for squeamish readers. The latter half of the story is roughly based on personal experience, although for the sake of entertainment, there is some embellishment. Please proceed with caution, and if you like what you read, please feel free to reblog!

Important Notes:

This content is strictly for audiences 18+. The roles in this story assume female readers and Hunter. Concepts introduced include: biting, blood, blood play, dirty talk, F oral (receiving), M & F masturbation, menstrual cycle, pain, PiV, and voyeurism (accidental).

The assignment was a relatively straightforward one – you, one of the Republic's leading scientists in the highly specialized field of bioacoustics, were to head to the planet of Eyyhá to record data and assess the feasibility of possible human colonization. Normally, a squad of regs would have been assigned to you for security detail and general assistance out in the field. However, this time around, you were left with questions when the word came down that a squad of specialist clone troopers – Clone Force 99 – would be accompanying you.

You found out that General Skywalker and Captain Rex were the ones who pitched the idea of giving you this assignment after your assistance helped the 501st locate a deeply hidden Separatist base that previously, no one was able to detect. You received the proper clearance, and the day you first met the squad still sticks out in your mind. Memories of Rex walking you up to the guys, who were casually waiting outside the Marauder for you to arrive... Remembering the looks each one of them gave you, particularly the tall silver-haired one, and the one with the facial tattooing; you assumed him to be the squad leader before he even spoke.

“Men, I'd like to introduce you to Dr. Y/N. She will be accompanying you on this mission to gather critical bioacoustic data that will ultimately lead to a decision as to whether Eyyhá can be colonized. You are to provide round the clock security and assist with any help she needs out in the field.”

The silver-haired one looked at you, an expression of contempt riddled upon his lips. “Just great...our talents being underutilized yet again for a civilian. If anyone needs me, I'll be in my bunk.” He picked up the large rifle at his side and walked into the ship. “Hunter, why are we even doing this?!” he said loudly, before disappearing.

“I'm really sorry about that,” the tattooed one spoke, his voice low and smooth. “That's Crosshair, by the way. Resident sniper, and usually a completely insufferable asshole. I'm Sergeant Hunter. I'm glad to meet you.”

“No offense taken, Sergeant. I've worked with regs before and gotten my share of snide remarks, but his was a bit much,” you reply, a little curtly.

“Please, call me Hunter. Everyone else does,” he said with a genuine smile. “Let me introduce you to the rest of my squad. The behemoth next to me is Wrecker, our demolitions expert. The one with the cybernetics and wearing the kama is Echo, who's new to the squad. The one who can't seem to be pulled away from his datapad for a split second, is Tech. Both Tech and Echo's electronics and engineering skills should be invaluable in the field.”

You smiled at the one called Wrecker, who caught your gaze and returned it with a light wave. “Glad to have you aboard, Y/N! If you need anything blown up, I'm your man!”

Hunter put his face into his hand, shaking lightly. You laughed heartily and winked. “I don't think there will be any real need for explosives on this mission, but you never know!”

Both Echo and Tech looked over at you. Echo smiled and gave you a salute with his scomp-link arm. “Welcome, Y/N. I'm looking forward to assisting you in any way possible.”

Tech looked up from his datapad and nudged his lenses up with a finger, nodding a few times in what you considered to be approval. “I have heard a great deal about you, Dr. Y/N. Your work as a bioacoustician is unparalleled. I read your last published journal...remarkable observations, I must say. I look forward to working with you, as well.” He glanced down at his datapad once more, tapping away at it absentmindedly.

Rex clapped his hands together once. “Excellent! You're in good hands with these men. You'd better be on your way. Intel we received indicates it will be best to land on the day side of the planet and establish a base camp. We know the planet is teeming with life, but the last thing you need are any unwanted surprises in the dark.”

“Then we'll take our leave, Rex. Let me take those cases from you, Y/N,” Hunter offered, picking up both the heavy black cases like they were nothing. “Good luck, everyone. May the Force be with you,” Rex called as Hunter took your belongings into the Marauder, Echo and Tech entering behind him, with you and Wrecker bringing up the rear.

Wrecker clapped you on the back a little too cordially, causing you to stumble with your overloaded backpack full of personal effects. He caught you just before you fell face first onto the entrance ramp, laughing loudly. “Sorry about that! Guess I don't know my own strength! I'm happy you're joining us. I don't know what bio... Uhh, bioac-- What is it that you do, again?”

You paused a moment, turning around to look at Rex, with his always handsome, stoic face. Raising your arm, you waved to him. He nodded once, then turned and walked off. Turning back, you looked up at Wrecker, feeling supremely tiny next to him. “I'm a bioacoustician, Wrecker. It means I study the sounds of nature, put simply.”

He nodded thoughtfully, and you knew he was trying to figure out exactly what you meant. “Well, I don't know what you'll do with all that, but it sounds kind of boring, if I'm being honest.” His remark caught you just the right way, making you laugh long and hard. “You're not the first one to say that to me, Wrecker. It's definitely not for everyone...”

His infectious laughter joined yours. “Come on, let's get you a bunk so you can settle in.”

*****

The mission was doomed from the very start. You quickly realized the intel was missing critical information that didn't prepare you or the squad for the horrific storms Eyyhá often has, and not long after you had set up base camp, some of the equipment had been struck by lightning. Cases of precious sensor arrays and receivers were mangled beyond repair, although you had Tech and Echo look at the blackened parts to see if anything was salvageable. They looked at you, and didn't even say anything...they just shrugged and gave you the look that clearly said, “sorry, you're shit out of luck.”

Thankfully you still had a few spares to at least get some work started, but without everything in place, it was rather pointless to start data collection. Your request to the Senate to return to Coruscant was denied after being told that despite how little functional equipment you had left, you needed to begin research immediately; a transport with replacement equipment would be sent as soon as you submitted a request with your needs.

Much to your chagrin, most attempts at field work have been rained out thus far, so you've spent more time hanging out with the guys in the Marauder than you have doing any actual research. They've certainly turned out to be a lot different than the regs you've worked with in the past. Very distinct personalities, senses of humor, personal habits... Hunter and Wrecker warmed up to you very quickly. Wrecker took to you so much, he affectionately started calling you ad'íka, while Echo and Tech took a little longer to come around, and Crosshair... You're still unsure of Crosshair.

Initially, you were afraid that being a woman, the risk of awkwardness or sexual tension would be quite high, especially since you were spending a lot of time in close quarters with them. Quite the opposite, actually...you get along with them very well, tolerating the light flirtation and off-color remarks better than you thought you would. You discovered just the level of respect they had for you the week you went through your period for the first time while on the mission.

You pulled Hunter aside just before you were due to start, and cautiously explained what was about to happen. At the time, you couldn't have known that he already knew, because the changes of your pheromones in the days prior, along with subtle behavioral changes, told him so. He was empathetic, offering to make up a makeshift bunk for you away from the others, if that's what made you feel most comfortable.

He explained that women worked alongside them on other assignments in the past, so he wasn't uncomfortable with the subject. Little did you know that those days leading up to and including you bleeding, would be some of the most arousing and tempting for Hunter. That was four weeks ago...

*****

Early this morning, you wanted to go exploring, extending the invite for the entire squad to join you. It finally stopped raining, and you wonder if this is just a temporary reprieve from what you believe to be Eyyhá's rainy season. Echo declined, offering to stay back at the Marauder, trying to think of ways to modify equipment to help you until the new parts come. The rest of the men were more than happy to come with you, grateful for fresh air and a change of scenery.

Here you are now, sitting in a field of tall prairie grass, swaying gently with the warm summer breeze. There's not much of anything you can do right now except scribble notes in your field journal about meteorologic observations and visible flora and fauna. After finding out replacements may take up to six weeks to arrive because your parts requisition request had been mishandled, you resigned yourself to the fact you might have to chalk up this mission as a failure. Looking up at the clear blue sky, you put your field journal in your backpack and lie back in the grass, hands cradling your head.

Unbidden thoughts of Hunter flit through your mind – some savory, some not so much. You've discovered through casual observation, coupled with confirmation from Tech, that Hunter's genetic enhancements shine through in his senses of hearing, and especially scent; his exceptionally keen tracking skills are merely another perk. A thought races through your mind now, thinking back several weeks to when you had last gone through your cycle – was he able to SMELL all that?

Oh, Maker, I hope not... Then you realize how much time has actually passed, and that you're due for your next cycle within the next day or two. That would explain why you haven't been sleeping well for the past several days, despite the fact you've been feeling quite fatigued.

“Oh...shit...” you say, thinking that no one is within earshot.

“Y/N, what's the matter? Is everything all right?” Hunter asks, emerging over the top of the grass, very close to you.

You let out a startled gasp, then cover your eyes with a hand. “No, Hunter, not really. I need to make use of the spare bunk...I just realized that now,” you say a little sheepishly.

He looks at you with those expressive brown eyes of his, concerned, but caring all at the same time. “No worries, I'll make sure it's fixed up for you.” “I'm sorry this is so much of a hassle,” you blurt out. “I can't help it, and I'm sure it doesn't make things any easier for any of you. ”

“Hey now, what kind of talk is that?” Hunter replies, coming to sit down next to you. “This isn't a hassle at all. Sure, the rest of us have to make some minor adjustments, but it really is no trouble, I assure you. When I get back to the Marauder, I can set it up for you, okay?”

Out of nowhere, his finger comes to your face, pulling a lock of stray hair back into place. He smiles gently at you, then gets up and starts walking back to the ship. You touch the place on your face where his finger had been, shivering a little. You have no idea what that's about, but the slow heat beginning to build between your legs is trying to tell you otherwise.

The warmth of the sunshine feels quite comforting today, so you close your eyes and exhale deeply. The rest of the guys are somewhere nearby and won't leave without you, so now seems like a perfectly acceptable time to catch a little loth cat nap. Maybe in dreams, Hunter's actions will become more apparent. You already think he's the most attractive of the squad, and you'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't fantasize about him fucking you hard at least a couple of times, especially the last time you went through your cycle...

*****

Hunter's strong, warm hands slide their way up your legs, parting them when he comes to your knees. Running his hands along your thighs, he lets one of his thumbs rest on the hood of your clit, the other lying on one of your outer lips. Slowly, he begins to retract your hood, exposing the smooth pearl within. The other thumb begins to pull you open, exposing your glistening wet entrance. He moans softly as he traces his thumb through your wetness, smearing some on your clit. Gently, he begins to swirl the flat of his thumb over it, making you moan and arch up into him.

He chuckles as he slowly slips his index finger inside you, marveling at how tight, hot and wet you are. “Someone's needy, isn't she?” he teases. “I think you like it when I've got my fingers buried in your pussy...isn't that right?”

“Y...yes, Hunter...” you moan softly, grinding your hips up against his hand in an attempt to get him to start stroking your insides.

“That's my girl,” he whispers, pushing his middle finger inside you, your deep-seated groan of satisfaction bringing a broad grin to his face. He starts to move his fingers in and out, hooking them upward a little so he can touch that beautiful little sensitive spot that always makes you come so hard for him. “You want to come all over my fingers, mésh'la? Or do you want my cock, instead?”

You don't answer him right away, for the feeling of his fingers touching your sweet spot make you moan out his name. Hunter takes one of your breasts in his hand, squeezing gently, before his thumb swirls over your hardened nipple. He leans down and his tongue flicks over it, sending chills down your spine and a pulse of heat in your core. You contract your walls around his fingers, breath catching in his throat.

His mouth latches onto your nipple, suckling lightly on it, causing involuntary contractions that to Hunter, feel like delicate kisses on his fingers. He moans against you, swirling his tongue madly before his teeth close down on you, pulling gently. Your hand runs through his hair and down the back of his neck, cradling him as he releases you and his ravenous mouth searches for yours.

Hunter takes your lower lip gently between his teeth, pulling just a little before licking at it and letting his tongue slip into your mouth, letting it glide over yours. You moan deeply into his mouth as he gives your insides a few loving strokes before pulling them out. As he breaks the kiss, he looks at his fingers that are coated with your creamy juices. Your eyes meet his and he smiles, tracing his wet fingers over your lips.

“I want to watch you suck my fingers clean, cyar'ika. Do it like you're sucking my cock,” he tells you, his voice dropping into a husky whisper.

You comply, opening your mouth slowly as his fingers slip into your mouth. Your hand closes around his wrist as your tongue swirls around them, tasting the salt and tang of your secretions. Hunter moans softly and reaches down to adjust himself through his sleep shorts; he's almost painfully hard right now and wants nothing more than to sink himself balls deep inside you.

Suckling more firmly on his fingers, you start to mimic the motions of giving him a blowjob, your head moving to and fro with vigor. Hunter smirks as you fight to suppress your gag reflex once his fingers are fully in your mouth. With his open hand, he begins to free himself from his shorts, the elegant curvature of his thick length aching for the sanctuary of your pussy. He pulls his fingers out, then leans down to kiss you deeply, the taste of your juices still there.

“That's my good girl,” he whispers into your ear, making you shiver and moan his name once more. “Open up for me, cyaré, and take my cock...you're such a greedy little slut. Isn't that right?”

Hunter aligns himself with your entrance, slowly gliding the head of his cock through your outer lips to pick up your wetness, then lets it slip effortlessly over your swollen clit. A heated cry escapes you and you close your legs around his waist, pulling him forward and coaxing him to enter you. He plants his hands on either side of your shoulders, breathing heavily in anticipation as he parks himself firmly at your entrance.

“Fuck me, Hunter... I'm your greedy little slut,” you plead.

“That's all I wanted to hear, mésh'la.”

His lips press against yours for a heated kiss, tongue easing into your mouth as he begins to slowly push inside you, moving slowly so you can stretch around him. You let out a lusty moan of unbridled pleasure as he seats himself fully inside you. Instinctively, you flex your walls around him, squeezing his cock with everything you can muster. Hunter's head snaps up as you do this, with a primal growl. He closes his hands around your hips as he withdraws his cock until he's almost out of you, and with no warning, he surges forward –

*****

“Ad'íka? Ad'íka, where are you?” Wrecker yells, looking over the sea of grass, trying to spot you. “We're gonna catch hell from Hunter if we can't find her,” he groans. “Oi, Tech! Help me find Y/N. I know she's here somewhere.”

“Wrecker, please calm down. The likelihood of her going far without at least one of us accompanying her is statistically speaking, quite low. I saw Hunter heading back to the Marauder awhile ago, so I assume he likely spoke to her before doing so. I believe I can make an educated guess as to where she may be,” Tech replied.

Tech begins to move off in the direction where he last spotted Hunter, walking slowly and parting the grass as he goes, careful not to make a misstep – or accidentally step on you. He looks around cautiously, trying to look for telltale signs such as places where grass looks unnaturally flattened. The wind picks up and the skies are beginning to cloud over again, threatening to bring more rain, or worse, another storm.

“Wrecker, pack it in and move to my location. The weather is becoming inclement and we need to make it back to the Marauder with haste,” Tech calls.

He's still looking around and finds a patch of the grass that doesn't look quite like the others. Striding with a little more purpose, he's almost to where you're lying, but since he can't get a good visual of what's just beyond the grass, he stops and looks up at the grove of trees that marks the division between the forested area and the field.

“Crosshair, can you give me visual confirmation that I'm close to Y/N?” Thunder booms in the distance and Tech looks to the tree line.

When you and the squad exited the grove, Crosshair stayed back and got himself up into one of the taller trees, closely keeping an eye on all of you. He sighs and looks out upon the field, seeing Tech and Wrecker waving. Luckily, he's up high enough and can easily see that they're right at the edge of where you are, still blissfully wrapped up in your dream about Hunter. He laughs and then they hear him rasp, “she's down there all right, fast asleep. Watch your step. If I were you, I'd wake her gently...looks like she's having one hell of a dream!”

Wrecker looks at Tech with a quizzical look on his face. “How does he know that?”

“I do not know. Maybe by her body language?” Tech postulates.

“Wrap it up, you two. I'm heading back to the ship. Last place I need to be is up in a tree when it starts storming,” Crosshair warns as he starts making his way back to ground level.

Tech plows through the grass once more, and finally comes to a stop where his suspicion is confirmed. Sweeping the grass aside with one arm, he sees you lying on the ground, head resting on your backpack. You're still asleep, and Tech's eyes go wide when he realizes that you have slipped a hand down your pants and are slowly rubbing your clit.

“Did you find her? Is she okay?” Wrecker says lowly as he stands beside Tech. “I...I...yes, I found her all right,” Tech mumbles, feeling his face grow hot. This is something new for him, and he's distinctly uncomfortable, feeling like he's somehow violating your consent by seeing you in such a vulnerable state. “She's...well, I...how do I put this,” Tech stammers.

“Tech, what's the matter with you? What's she doing? Crosshair said she was sleeping, so what's got you all jumpy?” He looks down and sees you touching yourself and his eyes get just as big as Tech's, and he clears his throat, trying not to stare and desperately trying to ignore the fact he feels himself starting to grow hard. “Oh, I see, now. She's, uh...she's...” He's embarrassed, not wanting to say the word.

“Yes, that,” Tech replies, not wanting to say it either. “I am not sure how to approach waking her up. But we have no choice. It is going to start raining shortly and I do not wish to get caught out here if it decides to storm.”

“Let me do it, Tech,” Wrecker offers. He kneels down next to you and very carefully places his hand on your arm. “Ad'íka, he says quietly. “Ad'íka, I need you to wake up, honey, please?”

You groan softly and remove your hand from your pants. Tech coughs nervously and also kneels down at your side. “Y/N, it's time to wake up. A storm is coming and we have to get back to the Marauder quickly.”

“Come on, ad'íka, we'll get you out of here. I just need you to wake up first,” Wrecker tries again.

You slowly open your eyes and blink a few times, trying to focus. You have no idea how long you've been out, but you do know that your dream of Hunter fucking you mercilessly is now hopelessly irretrievable. “Tech? Wrecker? What time is it?” you murmur sleepily, rubbing at your eyes.

“Time to go, honey,” Wrecker says, slipping his huge arm under your back, pulling you up into a sitting position gently. “It's getting ready to storm, and this could be a bad one. Come on, let me help you up. Tech, grab her backpack, would you?”

Wrecker helps you get to your feet, and you let out a mighty yawn. “I'm so sorry, guys... That sunshine felt so good, and you know I haven't been sleeping well lately.” You grimace a little as you feel your lower abdomen beginning to seize up a little. You swear under your breath and Tech's eyes narrow as he studies your features.

“Are you quite all right, Y/N? You look like you're in pain.”

“I'll be all right, Tech. Don't worry about it.” You glance up at the sky and black clouds are building in behind you. Glancing at your chrono, you curse again and take your backpack from Tech. “Yeah, we need to get out of here. I can't believe how late it's gotten, and those thunderheads are looking nasty.”

You begin to feel a few raindrops hit your face, and you shoulder your backpack, wincing as pain shoots through your lower abdomen. What you don't see is Tech's look of deep concern as you start back toward the grove, with Wrecker quickly blazing a trail for you and Tech to follow. The three of you end up making it back to the Marauder in record time, sprinting through a deluge as you leave the relative protection of the grove into the clearing where the ship lies.

“What the hell happened?” Hunter calls from the cockpit. “I thought you would have all been back a few hours ago!”

“I'm sorry, Hunter, it's my fault,” you reply. “I ended up falling asleep and it took Tech and Wrecker awhile to find me.”

“Maybe you need to start carrying a homing beacon with you,” Crosshair interjects, coming around the corner as the three of you get inside the ship. “Wouldn't want you getting lost, or anything,” he says, looking at you with that smug expression you wish you could slap off his face. He lets his gaze linger as he looks you over, and you feel like he's boring holes into you.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” you fire back at him.

“Oh...no reason,” he says, and then he winks at you before walking into the cockpit to join Hunter. You look at Tech and Wrecker in disbelief, shaking your head. “What's his problem, anyway?”

“He's always like that, ad'íka. Try not to take it personally,” Wrecker says, frowning.

“I must agree with Wrecker, Y/N. We are used to him always trying to get under our skin. Do not let it get to you.”

Hunter emerges from the cockpit, a little smile on his face as he looks the three of you over. “You all look like drowned womp rats. Go get yourselves cleaned up and then come get something to eat. I managed to trap and kill some kind of larger foraging animal, so we've got some fresh meat, for once. Tech, I might ask you to keep an eye on the radar later. We might be in for a long night with this storm... If it looks like something dangerous is brewing, we'll need to get out of here as fast as possible.”

“Certainly, Hunter. I shall keep you updated.”

“Come on, ad'íka, I'll take your backpack,” Wrecker says quietly, pulling it away from you as he starts walking back to the bunks.

Tech gently touches your shoulder, startling you. “Are you quite all right, Y/N? You do not look well. Would you like assistance returning to your bunk?”

You look up at him, his large, golden brown eyes clearly showing signs of worry. “I'll be honest with you,” you say quietly. “No, I'm not feeling well at all, and yes, I think I'll accept the help, if you don't mind.”

A small smile briefly crosses his face, and he offers his arm to you. You happily accept as more cramping strikes, trying not to audibly groan, but you can't help it. As you get back to the bunks, you can see that Wrecker has carefully put your backpack by your bed. He sees you holding onto Tech's arm and immediately looks concerned.

“Hey, ad'íka, you don't look so good. Is there anything you need?” “Could you take my backpack to the spare bunk, please? Hunter said it would be ready for me by the time I got back. I'm...not feeling well, Wrecker.”

As you mention the term “spare bunk,” Tech turns to look at you, and then it all makes sense to him. “Ah...now I understand. You are not feeling well because you are...” He hesitates to finish his sentence, and he coughs awkwardly.

“It's all right, Tech. You don't need to say it. I think I'm going to grab a quick shower before coming to join you all for dinner. Thank you for helping me today...both of you. I appreciate it.”

As you let go of Tech's arm, he turns to look at Wrecker. “I think we should leave Y/N alone for awhile, Wrecker. Why don't you go see if Hunter needs any help with dinner preparation? I need to speak with Echo and see if he came up with any workarounds we can use for Y/N's research until the new parts arrive.” As Tech turns to leave, he stops and looks over his shoulder at you, concern still etched across his face. You give him a little smile, then nod. He accepts that as the sign to leave, and heads out.

Wrecker picks up your heavy backpack and walks it back to the small room just off the main sleeping area, separated by a floor to ceiling curtain fashioned from an extra blanket. He pushes aside the curtain and gently puts your backpack on the floor. On the way back, you stop him and put your hand on his upper arm. As terrible as you currently feel, you still feel the need to thank him again.

“Thank you again, Wrecker. Both you and Tech have been very kind. I'll come eat after I'm done in the refresher, okay? Maybe a shower might help me feel better.”

“It's nothing, ad'íka. As far as I'm concerned, you're a member of our little family now. We've got your back.”

You chuckle quietly. “Even Crosshair?” you ask, with a hint of suspicion in your voice.

Wrecker stops to think about that for a moment, and with great amusement gives you an honest response. “Yep, even Crosshair.”

*****

The pain in your pelvic floor is steadily growing more intense. As you strip off all your wet gear, you check your panties to see if you've started bleeding yet, and sure enough, there's a few spots of blood. Sighing in annoyance, you throw them on top of the pile of wet clothing, mentally reminding yourself to ask Tech later if there's any kind of good stain removing solvent on board. You see that Hunter was kind enough to leave a stack of clean towels for you, and you suddenly feel irrationally guilty, but then you can't help but smile when you see Wrecker's beloved Lula tucked in the corner of your bunk.

You pick up a towel and wrap it around yourself, grabbing your bag of toiletries as you peek your head around the curtain, making absolutely sure the bunks are cleared out. You don't particularly want most of the guys seeing you like this, and thankfully the path to the refresher is clear. You step in, and crank the hot water. As you wash your hair, you start feeling marginally better, although you're worried about how the rest of the night is going to play out. You finish the rest of your bathing routine quickly, not wanting to make the guys wait too long to have dinner.

When you get back to your bunk, you only want to be as comfortable as possible for the rest of the night, yet still be presentable. Fishing through your clothes to find the special black panties you have specifically for absorbing blood, you slip those on, along with a clean bra and one of your oversized t-shirts that you use for sleeping in. You catch a glimpse of your reflection in a small mirror as you comb out your hair, and you can clearly see you're not well. Dark circles under your eyes, and paler than usual.

“Could be worse,” you say softly as you dig through one of your bags for a small bottle containing painkillers. Tapping two pills into your palm, you down them with a swig of water from your canteen. You look back at the mirror and sigh. “Could be a hell of a lot worse.”

You make your way to the common area where you know you will find the guys waiting for you. They will not eat unless you're present, which you've told them repeatedly they don't need to do, but they still insist upon it. You remember the last time you went through your cycle, there was one night you were too sick to eat anything, and you had spent the entire night in your bunk. Now you truly feel guilty, because that means they all went hungry that night.

You stop in the doorway and see them sitting around the table, laughing and having an animated conversation. This brings a smile to your face, seeing that they're content and happy, despite being stuck on what has truly been a horrible mission. The others don't notice that Hunter turns to look at you standing there. He knew you were coming; he picked up your scent after you left your bunk, the smell of blood teasing his senses.

As your eyes lock on his, you see his expression change from one of acknowledgment to one of definite interest. His dark eyes began to take on a hooded appearance, and you realize what you see there – it's sheer lust. Then it hits you that he knows you've started bleeding, and a twinge of arousal begins to form in the pit of your chest. Hunter raises an eyebrow at you and a sly grin forms, because you've betrayed that you're more than interested, too.

Conversation stops when the rest of the guys notice that Hunter falls silent, and they turn to follow his gaze. You walk slowly toward them, one hand clutching the material of your shirt between your breasts. Glancing over at them, you can see that Wrecker's mouth is hanging open, a look of surprise on his face. You catch Tech's gaze, and he immediately blushes and looks away. Echo, always the gentleman, looks away immediately. Crosshair's usual stony faced visage is replaced by something resembling a combination of surprise and the same kind of interest you saw in Hunter's eyes.

“I'm sorry, guys, I just need to be as comfortable as I can tonight, so please forgive the way I'm dressed,” you say quietly.

“There's nothing to forgive, Y/N. We understand,” Hunter replies, gesturing for you to come and sit. “Hopefully after you eat a little something, it will help take your mind off your discomfort.” Your eyes widen as he says this, because he didn't see you grimacing earlier...how does he know? “Tech and Wrecker told me you were exhibiting clear signs of being in pain. It's nothing to be ashamed of,” he says reassuringly.

“Please, ad'íka, have something to eat,” Wrecker says as he nudges a plate of roasted something at you. “Take whatever you want.”

You look around at the others and they look at you expectantly. It certainly smells good, whatever it is, and you haven't eaten much other than a measly ration bar early this morning. As you pick slices that have the brownest, crispiest skin, you can hear Echo next to you letting out his breath in a large sigh of relief. You pat his arm gently as you start to eat. Whatever this animal is, it's surprisingly tasty.

“This is really good, you guys. It reminds me of boar-wolf meat.” Tech turns to you with a look of rapt interest. “When did you get the opportunity to have boar-wolf? They're supposedly endemic only to Endor.”

You swallow a mouthful of food and grin. “I was part of an expedition to the forest moon of Endor. We were tasked with locating any sentient life with the goal of establishing contact, but ultimately we found nothing. Some of the men decided they wanted fresh food instead of the rations, so they went out hunting and managed to bring down a boar-wolf. That was some fine dining, I tell you. The expedition was a total failure, but spit-roasted boar-wolf was the highlight of that entire trip.”

“Fascinating... Y/N, when you feel up to it, I would like to talk with you further about your trip to Endor, if you don't mind. So little is known about the planet itself, let alone the forest moon.”

“I'd be more than happy to share that information with you, Tech. I have all of my findings backed up on one of my datapads.”

You turn to look at Hunter, and his eyes still have that sultry look to them. You pause a moment before speaking again, because you feel the familiar heat of arousal creeping back between your legs. Your face starts to grow hot just looking at him, as juicier bits of your dream come back to flood your mind. Hunter notes that your scent has drastically changed, your pheromones intermingling with the thick smell of rich blood. He's glad he still has his codpiece on, because it's hiding the fact he's hard as steel underneath it.

“Truly, this is outstanding, Hunter...thank you for all of this.” You look around at the others, and do your best to not betray the fact your insides feel like they're being squeezed half to death. “Dig in, everyone. There's no guarantee we'll get an offering like this again while we're here.”

“You heard Y/N, boys! Let's eat!” Wrecker booms enthusiastically.

The rest of dinner is a rather noisy affair, with a great deal of spirited conversation, bad jokes from Wrecker, a few dirty ones from Crosshair, and plenty of raucous laughter. The others don't see that you and Hunter are constantly exchanging glances, looking at each other progressively longer each time your eyes meet. You can feel yourself beginning to bleed a little more, the intoxicating scent of it starting to dominate his keen senses. Hunter's earlier assumption is correct – it's going to be a long night.

*****

As you lie in your bunk, the screaming of the wind and driving rain against the Marauder's hull does nothing to ease your shattered nerves. The spasms in your pelvic floor escalated during the course of dinner, after which you quickly excused yourself to retreat to the privacy and confines of your bed. You've attempted to distract yourself with one of the many books you brought, but nothing can take your mind off your body tearing itself apart.

The painkillers you took did nothing to abate your misery, and the only thing you wish is to be released from this punishment. You cradle Lula in your arms and curl up into the fetal position; it's not long before you feel the tears slowly roll down your face.

“Make it stop,” you whisper. “For the love of the Maker, just let this be over...”

Time loses all meaning as more waves of acute tightness pass through you. Clutching Lula tighter, you start rolling back and forth as the tears flow faster, and you try to cry as quietly as possible. The intermittent roaring of thunder combined with Wrecker's snoring provides adequate cover, but you're afraid that at some point, you're going to wake someone up. You've shown no weakness to these men the entire time you've been with them, and not about to start by admitting you're crying from pain.

Hunter lies awake in his bunk, restless and overstimulated with the scent of you assailing him. Visions of lying with his head buried between your legs, tongue slipping into you to rapaciously lap up blood dominates his every thought. He shifts uncomfortably as he feels himself starting to grow hard again, and his hand drifts down between his legs to start touching himself through his sleep shorts.

In the dim, cool white glow of the bunks' overhead lights, Hunter looks around the room at his brothers. Confident that they're all sound asleep, he sits up, swinging his feet to the floor. Lifting his head a little, he closes his eyes and inhales deeply. Though the room is filled with natural scents of the others, the one that permeates the air the most is yours – the metallic, iron-rich tang of blood commingled with the unmistakable perfume of female pheromones. He groans quietly as his cock swells, hand sliding into his shorts to start stroking himself.

Hunter stops as he picks up the sound of your distress, feeling compelled to go and check on you. Rising slowly, he makes his way from the bunks down the small hallway to where you lie, sobbing quietly. He stops just outside the doorway, hand on the curtain, rooted to the spot as he listens to you, trying to ignore the incredible redolence of blood emanating from your room.

Pulling the curtain aside, he cautiously enters, seeing you sitting up, arms wrapped around your middle and hunched over as pain wracks your body. He sees that you laid a towel down over your bed, now tinged with deep crimson. So this is why she wanted to be sequestered from the rest of us the last time... You look up at him with blurry, red-rimmed eyes and at first you have no idea who it actually is that's come to check on you.

“Y/N, are you all right?” Hunter says quietly, coming closer. You don't answer, but the slow shaking of your head and the heavy trembling speak volumes. “Mésh'la, talk to me. How bad is it?”

You let go of yourself and rest your hands on the edge of your bed before exhaling sharply, pushing yourself up and onto your feet. Your knees wobble as you take a few steps toward Hunter. As you stop, a fresh wave of cramping tears at your midsection; you let out a cry and bare your teeth at him. Locking your eyes on his, your fingers close around the hem of your nightshirt, not caring if he sees you like this. Hunter's eyes go wide, breath catching in his throat as you begin to pull it up.

“You...want to see? Look at this and...f-f-feel my pain,” you choke out.

As you lift your nightshirt up past your waist, his eyes gravitate lower to see that you're wearing nothing underneath, having shed your panties earlier in the night when you knew they would be useless at being able to catch the flow that was to come. Parting your legs just a little, he sees that your inner thighs are covered in blood, a fresh trail quickly coursing its way down your leg onto the floor. He continues to watch transfixed as a large, thick blood clot oozes out from between your legs, followed by another, unable to fathom how you're tolerating this.

Swallowing hard, Hunter stares as you bring a hand down and run your fingers through your outer lips, coating them before bringing them back to your mouth, where you slip them inside to suck them clean. He can see that blood is smeared under your lower lip, and the urge to taste you is overwhelming. Stepping forward, he reaches out and slowly takes you by your upper arms. You don't flinch as his head dips down, mouth hovering just above yours.

“Mésh'la, is it all right if I taste you?” Hunter whispers, his rapid, shallow breathing hot on your face.

You close your eyes and moan softly as his lips trail across your cheek, stopping short of the patch of coagulating blood. “Yes, Hunter...don't be afraid.”

His tongue trails delicately over you, passing over several times until the blood is gone. The concentrated taste of iron combines with the salt from your skin and tears, creating a potent aphrodisiac for his already overtaxed senses. Hunter releases your arms, then slips one of his around your waist, and the other around your shoulders to pull you close.

As you do the same, you feel his lips brush against yours, and you moan deeply into his mouth as he kisses you, his tongue ardently sparring with yours. He breaks the kiss and your eyes meet his. All you can see is a fierce hunger, and you gasp as he takes one of your hands and plants it on his cock, yearning to break out of his shorts. Without thinking, you begin to massage him through the material, feeling him twitch underneath.

“Let me help you,” Hunter says, before gritting his teeth and moaning quietly as you fondle him. “Do you trust me, ad'íka? You can't go on through the night like this.”

“I'm willing to try anything at this point... I just want it to stop,” you whimper.

“You didn't answer me. Do you trust me? I won't do anything unless I'm absolutely sure you're okay with it.”

You hook your free hand around the back of his neck and pull his head down, pressing your lips to his and slipping your tongue into his mouth. Hunter moans deeply against you and bucks his hips into your hand. You squeeze his cock hard, and this time he lets out a loud groan.

“You're here, aren't you? That means I trust you.”

Letting go of him, you turn around and step back to your bed, pulling off the heavily stained towel. Thankfully, there's plenty of towels, so you grab a few more and lay down a thicker barrier. You turn back to him, and see that he's got a thumb hooked in the waistband of his shorts. The head of his cock peeps out above it, slick with pre-cum. Eyes laden with desire bore into yours as he slides off his shorts, the graceful curvature of his thick length just as remarkable as it had been in your dream.

“Take your nightshirt off, mésh'la,” Hunter commands. “You've already shown me that delicious bloody pussy of yours. Now I want to see the rest.”

Heart beating wildly, you obey, pulling your nightshirt off and casting it to the side. You scarcely have time to breathe before Hunter rushes you, hooking an arm around your waist and slipping the other under one of your legs, not caring he's being painted with blood as he lifts you. He sets you down gently on your bed, spreading your legs with hands that feel like they're wreathed in flame. The flat of one thumb trails lightly through your outer lips before it gently flicks over your clit, eliciting a gasp from you.

“I've never seen anything more beautiful,” Hunter murmurs, trailing a fingertip from your bottom lip in a straight line from your chin down to your pubic mound. “...and I have waited so long to do this.” He looks at you with a wanton grin spreading across his face. “But before I do anything, I need to know that you want this. Trusting me is one thing, but wanting me to do this are two different things.”

You press yourself back against your pillows, stretching out a hand that Hunter readily accepts. “I want this, Hunter... You said you could help me. So help me through this...please...” you implore.

He lets go of your hand and leans over you, bringing his head down just above yours. You moan deeply into his mouth as your lips reconnect with his, feeling your clit pulse as his tongue slips across yours. One of his hands closes around a breast, squeezing tenderly as you begin to arch your body up into him in the silent plea to take you. Hunter breaks away and moves his attention to your neck, alternating between light kisses and gentle licking. As he reaches your pulse point, he nips at your flesh, making you cry out in surprise.

“Shhhh, ad'íka, you want to wake everyone up?” Hunter laughs quietly as he moves to position himself between your legs. “Just relax, Y/N, and remember, if it's too much or something hurts, tell me and I'll stop right away.”

You nod and let out a shaky breath as you look down and see how much blood is already on your lower extremities. Hunter looks up at you with fire in his eyes, and you don't look away when he turns to one of your legs, using the flat of his tongue to lick a wide path through the newest trail of blood from your knee all the way up your thigh. Lifting his head, he lets his tongue hang out of his mouth just a little, and you moan when a single drop of fresh blood drips off the tip.

“You taste so fucking good,” Hunter growls. “I want to find out how luscious that pussy is, mésh'la... Are you ready for me?”

“It's all yours, Hunter,” you moan softly.

He slides his arms under your legs, resting his hands on your hips as his face closes in on his quarry. His eyes close as he breathes you in; blood obfuscates nearly everything, but the essence of your fluctuating pheromones is the undercurrent driving him mad. In a flash, his tongue is slipping between your scarlet folds, licking at the fresh trickle of blood slowly seeping out. A large blood clot finds its way into his mouth, and Hunter moans deeply against you, the vibrations sending chills down your spine.

He lifts his head to look at you, and your eyes widen as you see not a man now, but a beast. Blood is on his nose, lips, and chin – macabre tattooing that complements what he already possesses. Hunter turns his attention to your clit, now sticky with drying blood. Out snakes his tongue, swirling over that tiny seat of all your pleasure, cleaning you off and making you moan his name deeply. Closing his lips around it, he suckles gently, letting the tip of his tongue glide along the underside effortlessly.

“Oh, Maker,” you sigh, “don't stop, Hunter...don't you fucking stop...”

He pulls away briefly, looking up at you with a devilish grin. “I have no intentions of doing so, ad'íka. I'm just getting started...” He shifts positions and sits up, bringing one finger to your entrance, which is already leaking once more. “That's what I want to see,” he says, voice dangerously low. “You're so nice and open now...play with your clit for me while you take my fingers.”

Hunter begins to sink his finger inside you slowly, letting you acclimate to him. As you squeeze your walls around him, his brow furrows and he closes his eyes, groaning as his cock flexes.

He starts to glide his finger in and out, watching as it's coated with hot, fresh blood. Watching as you deftly lick your fingertips, he waits for you to slip your hand down between your legs to start rubbing your clit.

“That's my girl,” he croons softly. “Come undone for me...”

He slides his middle finger in, stifling a moan of his own as reflexively, you constrict your walls down around him. Biting your lip, you close your eyes and let your fingers dance over your clit in tight, concentric circles, a low and perpetual moan pouring out of you. Hunter begins to move his fingers in and out gently, watching you closely for any signs of discomfort. Seeing none, he picks up the pace a little, this time hooking his fingertips up to catch your sweet spot.

Your eyes snap open and meet his as you feel that familiar tingle inside you, breath catching in your throat as Hunter's tender stroking draws you closer to the edge. Faster your fingers swirl around your clit, feeling that delicious heat and pulsation build. He grins at you as he slowly trails his free hand down his body until he closes it around his cock, stroking it in time with the rhythm of his fingers. Your walls tighten around him little by little, and he knows you're not far from your climax.

“So close, Hunter...let me come,” you moan lustily.

“Not just yet, mésh'la,” he chuckles, pulling his fingers out of you abruptly, watching a splatter of blood follow them. He holds his hand up for you to see, blood quickly flowing down his palm and onto his wrist. “On your hands and knees, baby. There's no hiding how much you want my cock... So let me show you what I've been waiting to do to you.”

Slowly, you bring your legs down, stiff from being spread apart for so long. As you get on all fours, you purposely tilt your ass up a little bit in a clear sign you're presenting for him. Hunter licks the dried blood from his mouth and shifts until he's up against you, his cock lying between your outer lips. He begins to rock his hips lightly, slipping through your wet cleft, guiding the head of his cock over your clit, relishing at the sound of a deep moan from you.

Hunter plants his bloodied hand on the back of your neck, dragging a wide maroon path down your spine before leaning down and biting into your shoulder, making you curse in both shock and pain. He curls an arm around your waist as you writhe underneath him, still latched onto your shoulder. After what seems like an eternity, he pulls his mouth off you, smirking as he sees the mark he's left behind. As he straightens up, his strong hands fall upon your ass, kneading the flesh gently.

“Now this is a view I could get used to,” Hunter murmurs as he looks down to see blood beginning to drip out of you again. “Such a messy wet cunt, waiting to take my cock...”

You push your ass back against him, and he closes a hand on one of your hips, the other hand on his cock. He slips once more through your hot, slick folds, running the head of his cock over your clit slowly, sighing happily as you moan his name. Finally, he aligns himself flush against your entrance, his other hand closing around your other hip.

“Here we go, mésh'la,” Hunter says quietly. “I want to savor every moment of this.”

He closes his eyes and exhales slowly as he eases his way inside you, relishing at how tight and wet you are for him. You moan deeply at the intrusion, feeling just how thick his cock is, stretching your walls tightly. Bringing a hand down between your legs, you start to stroke your clit again, letting out a sigh of relief as your fingers glide across it, slick with new blood. Hunter takes this as the sign to continue, inching the rest of his cock inside until you gasp as he presses up against your cervix.

“Shhhh, don't worry, baby, I'll be gentle. That's it...work your clit for me. Such a good girl...”

“Fuck me, Hunter...make me come...I need you,” you reply with a heated whisper.

Slowly, he begins to withdraw from you, stopping just before the head of his cock slips out. Looking down, he sees he's fully veiled with blood, thick droplets of it dotting the towels underneath. He runs his tongue over his upper lip and one of his canines, grinning as he threads himself back into you. Your breath comes hard and fast, and you have to stifle a scream as he fills you back up. Fingers swirl over your clit a little faster, and Hunter can feel your pussy fluttering against him; he flexes hard in return and now begins canting his hips into you.

He relaxes the grip on your waist, moving his hands to rest on your ass, his thumbs gently spreading your cheeks apart. You begin to bear down a little as you stroke your clit, relaxing your pelvic floor to accommodate Hunter's meaty girth. Exhaling sharply, you feel his thumb press lightly on your hole – almost curiously – giving pause before he pushes down carefully on it, massaging it as his hips collide with you noisily.

“That's the way, Y/N...” his voice dropping into a husky whisper. “You're doing so well...is this okay?”

“Keep going...I'm all right,” you reassure him. “Don't stop...”

He pulls his cock out just enough for him to wipe blood on his fingers, before pushing back deeply into you, making you gasp and squirm underneath him. Bracing himself with one hand, he leans over you and brings the other to your mouth, running the tips of his fingers over your bottom lip and chin before pushing them into your mouth. You let out a muffled cry, but quickly take to sucking his fingers clean.

“That's it, ad'íka, take my fingers like you are my cock,” Hunter groans.

You contract your walls around him hard as you feel his breath on the back of your neck, then his lips as he kisses your neck and your shoulder, moaning loudly as you give his fingers one last hard suck before he pulls them out. As he straightens once more, his hands return to rest on your ass, and now you feel him withdraw enough to feel the thick, swollen head of his cock spreading your entrance wide.

“Hunter...”

“Breathe, mésh'la...”

A tremendous rush of heat radiates through your pussy as Hunter presses forward and starts to fuck you, this time with no more teasing. His hands move from your ass back to your waist, gripping firmly as each forward surge is replete with a singular purpose. He closes his eyes and lets his head fall back as he bucks his hips up harder into you, smacking against your ass at a progressively accelerated pace.

The moans from you both grow unchecked, not caring that you're getting increasingly loud. You start to throw back against him, Hunter letting out a deep growl and loosening his hands from your hips to let you be in control. You move back and forth effortlessly along his cock, feeling him beginning to swell each time your ass claps back against his body, relishing at the way he massages your sweet spot.

He lets out a low moan as you connect with him again, this time stopping to swirl your hips as he bottoms out within you. You lower yourself onto your bed, guiding your hand back down between your legs. Your clit pulses heavily, screaming at you to bring forth the relief you desperately seek. Once more, you swirl your fingers over the hard little nub of flesh, quickly feeling that magical electricity returning.

Blinded by instinct and utterly blood-drunk, Hunter grasps your hips and retakes control. He fucks you hard and fast, hips slamming into your ass and thighs, spurred on by your cries of ecstasy. His cock drives relentlessly into you, slipping past your sweet spot, magnifying the quivering of your walls around him. Stroking your clit in time with each thrust, every nerve ending is alight as you're nearly at your peak.

“Come for me, Y/N,” Hunter groans deeply. “I know you're so close...”

Your moaning crescendos as Hunter slows his pace down, his cock swelling to its maximum. A heaving cry flies out of you as your orgasm breaks, your walls contracting around him wildly. Hunter can't believe the strength of your pussy as you bear down and start to push his cock out. He pulls out of you fully, agape as a gush of blood drenches his hand. Undeterred, he strokes himself hard a few times and doesn't hold back a roar of pleasure as he spills his seed all over your ass and onto your back.

Trembling from exertion and still coasting the waves of your orgasm, you collapse onto your side. Hunter shifts forward and slips his hands under your legs, moving you onto your back. You hold up your hand, marveling at the velvety crimson rolling down your fingers, down your palm, and back onto your wrist. He looks at you and smiles, both of you still breathing heavily and bathed in sweat. Leaning down over you, he reaches for your hand and brings it to his face, pulling it across his cheek, mouth, and chin to mark himself once more.

“Ad'íka, that was incredible,” Hunter murmurs against your palm. “So much more than I ever thought it would be. I need to ask...do you feel any better?”

Thinking for a moment, you realize you long since forgot your pain, as you now bask in the pleasant warmth spreading through your entire body. “I feel like a million Republic credits, Hunter. That was...beyond intense.”

He chuckles softly. “May I ask you for one more thing, Y/N?” He lets go of your hand and moves down to your thighs, trailing his fingertips down them gently, making you shiver. “Can I have one more taste of you? We probably won't get to do this again while we're here, so I'd like to have something to remember this night.”

You smile and nod, slipping your hand down between your legs to spread your folds apart for him. “Take all you want, Hunter. I know I'll never forget this.”

A little sigh of contentment is heard as he dips back between your legs, tongue licking every last bit of flesh, sucking on your outer lips to clean them off. Gently, he licks your still-sensitive clit, making your legs twitch involuntarily. You can't help but moan softly as his tongue probes at your entrance, before slipping in and gathering what he can. As he pulls away, he slips two fingers inside you to glaze them, then draws parallel lines on each of your cheeks and down your chin.

His lips seek out yours and you meet him halfway for a deep, passionate kiss, moaning into his mouth as he lets you have the remainder of the blood he took from you. Hunter pulls away from you and moves your hair out of your face, his dark eyes now full of tender care. He smiles and shifts you over so he can lie next to you, his hand resting on your chest, head next to yours. Putting your hand over his, you close your eyes and exhale deeply.

“Y/N,” Hunter begins, “there's something you should know.” You turn your head to look at him with a quizzical expression. “It's no secret that blood consumption is practiced by many cultures throughout the galaxy. But there's one thing that's considered universally sacred, and that's getting to taste the precious lifeblood from a woman during her cycle. Something to do with honoring women as the ones who bring forth life, and the bonds of family, I guess. Unlike my brothers, I've never gotten to go through the ritual...until now. For that, I'll always be grateful to you.” “Hunter, you don't need to...”

“There's more, ad'íka. Since you have given me the intimate honor of being the one to have you during your time, I want to offer you something, if you would accept it.”

“What would that be?”

“A place here with us... I heard what Wrecker said to you earlier today, about being part of the family. My brothers and I pledged to take care of each other in all circumstances, and I want to extend that covenant to you. What do you say?”

You shift onto your side, reaching to touch his face, your thumb gently caressing the corner of his mouth. His eyes search yours hopefully as he slings his arm around you and pulls you against his chest. “I think I'm going to the be most well-protected scientist in the Republic,” you tell him softly. “Yes, Hunter, I accept... I know you don't offer this to me lightly. I need to thank you for everything...you and the others have made this entire ordeal so much easier to bear.”

Hunter's mouth joins with yours in a surprisingly soft, delicate kiss. You chuckle quietly and curl your arm around his waist as you return the favor, slipping your tongue into his mouth and letting it tussle with his. As he presses his forehead to yours, cradling your head gently in his hand, he whispers, “No, cyar'íka...thank you. Welcome to our family.”

“What are you going to tell the others? Are they going to be okay with this? I'm not concerned about Wrecker, obviously, but –”

“Shhhhh, Y/N, there's no need to worry about anything. They'll understand why. Hell, they've been waiting long enough for me to even do this. There won't be any waiting to tell them, either.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, sounding slightly alarmed. Hunter starts laughing, covering his face with his hands. “We woke everyone up, cyar'íka. They heard everything. There's no point in hiding what we've done.” Your face grows hot with embarrassment as he sits up and moves to the edge of the bed, looking down at you. “I think you and I both need a trip to the refresher...we look like we came from a slaughterhouse. Get up, and I'll lay more clean towels down.”

You rise slowly and look back at the mess you two made, and then you look at Hunter, who looks like something out of a horror film. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, and you see the tattooing on your face that he gave you – grisly marks of initiation. Dried blood coats your inner thighs, but it looks like the worst of the bleeding is over. Glancing back at Hunter, he's gathered up all the soiled towels, along with his sleep shorts.

“Come on, Y/N, let's get cleaned up.” You look at your nightshirt that's crumpled up on the floor and move to go put it back on. “Leave it,” Hunter remarks as he peeks out of the doorway and down the short hallway. “If we're lucky, we can make it to the refresher before anyone spots us. If not, then...”

“Then someone's getting an eyeful,” you chuckle dryly. “It's not exactly the end of the world if the others see me naked. I guess in time, it's bound to happen, anyway.”

Hunter steps out into the dimly lit hall with you close behind him. Quietly, you approach the junction leading to the refresher, catching a shadow of someone coming toward you. Crosshair stops and leans up against the wall, arms crossed with a distinctly irked expression on his lean face.

“Pfffft....couldn't even be bothered to put your damn clothes back on, could you? Nice job waking us up!” he gripes. “You were going at it like two banthas on glitterstim and I didn't think it was possible, but you even managed to wake up Wrecker!”

“Crosshair, shut the fuck up and keep your voice down,” Hunter snarls. “Cyar'íka, with me. It's all right.”

“Cyar'íka? Hunter, what are you talking about?”

You gather your courage and step out from behind Hunter, his hand closing on your shoulder protectively. Crosshair gets a good look at you and Hunter now, eyes wide, his sleep-addled mind not entirely comprehending what he's seeing. His face grows hot as he stares at you first, dried blood caked on much of your body, your hair disheveled. Seeing all the blood smeared on Hunter's face, he covers his mouth with his hand and starts laughing quietly.

“What's so goddamn funny, you smug prick?” you snap angrily.

“Y/N, don't. I think I know what this is about. There's no need to get upset,” Hunter says, squeezing your shoulder gently.

Crosshair composes himself and coughs before looking at Hunter with soft amusement. “So, you finally went through with it, Hunter. Congratulations... We took bets ages ago as to how long it would take you to get the job done...if I'm not mistaken, I believe Tech has now earned himself quite a few credits. Jokes aside, I can see you took things to a far higher level than the rest of us ever did, but for what it's worth, ner vod, I'm proud of you, truly. I have to ask, though...what's with calling Y/N cyar'íka? I'm missing something, here.”

Hunter's hand leaves your shoulder, trailing down your spine before his arm comes around your waist loosely, holding you close to him. “She gave me something incredibly sacred, and in return I offered her something just as sacrosanct – a place in this family. You know what that means, Crosshair, and you know I didn't offer this lightly.”

Crosshair turns to you, this time his expression changing from amusement to one of solemnity. You could swear he almost looks guilty, as if he's feeling remorse for being rude to you on numerous occasions. “If he's offered that to you, Y/N, then...” He trails off, looking down at the floor, resting a hand on the back of his head.

“Then what?” you ask gently.

He looks back at you and exhales sharply. “Then I accept you too...ad'íka. Is it too late to apologize for not being exactly kind to you? For that, I was wrong. Forgive me.”

“No, Crosshair, it isn't too late. And...thank you. It's an honor to be welcomed into this family...an honor that will never be forgotten.”

“Good. Now do us all a favor and get your asses in the refresher. You reek of blood and sex, and frankly, it's a little insulting,” Crosshair laughs just as Hunter steps forward and shoves the blood stained towels into his arms.

“Just for that, you go ask Tech for that special enzymatic cleaner he has,” Hunter growls, taking your hand gently in his, turning in the direction of the refresher.

You wait until you're out of Crosshair's earshot before finding your voice. “Is it always going to be like that with him?” you ask curiously.

Hunter sighs as he opens the door to the refresher, then laughs quietly. “I'm afraid so. I did enjoy seeing you rip into him, however. He needs to learn a little humility, anyway.” As the door closes behind you, Hunter cranks on the shower. He turns toward you with a seductive grin, beckoning for you to join him. “Let me test a theory, mésh'la, that it's going be just as much fun getting you clean as it was getting you absolutely filthy.”

As you step under the blissfully hot water, Hunter's arms close around you, one hand wandering down to squeeze your ass as his lips touch yours for a particularly deep, sensuous kiss. You feel his cock stirring to life once more, twitching against your stomach.

Welcome to the family, indeed...

*****

"The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb."

#star wars #the bad batch #clone force 99 #the bad batch smut #tbb hunter #tbb crosshair #tbb tech #tbb wrecker #tbb echo #captain rex #general skywalker #cw blood #period sex

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jonberry555 · 3 months

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Clones of the Republic: Sister | Clone Profiles Season 1 - Female Clones of the Republic - Episode 3

#Clones of the Republic: Sister | Clone Profiles Season 1 - Female Clones of the Republic - Episode 3 #star wars #star wars explained #clone profiles #clones of the republic #sister #clone trooper sister #youtube shorts #jonberry555

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jb-nonsense · 1 year

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"Well that was...Productive. Very relaxing. I'll have to schedule more R&R time for the squad. A lot more."

#swtor #star wars: the old republic #star wars the old republic #aric jorgan #aric jorgan romance #female trooper x aric jorgan #character: Solvi Itera #Media: Gifs #Fandom: SWTOR #JB's Gifs #JB gifs #do I just enjoy the animation of the little 'we're gonna bang' animation in the last gif?? yes #also pls ignore the text mistake. the struggle of doing dialogue across gifs

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momojedi · 2 months

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— KILLER MACHINE

bad batch x gn! imp! reader

chapter one. the division

“Clones?”

My face falls at the sight in front of me. There, on the opposite side of the mirrored glass, my future division is properly lined up in full, black gear; armour I’ve never seen on a clone before. Doctor Hemlock chuckles before moving away from the window and pacing down the hallway. “Not just any clones,” he hums, clasping his hands behind his back as I follow him under the watchful eye of the clone commando accompanying us. “A reconditioned kind. Specialised for the kill.”

“Sir,” I pipe up, trying to keep up with his fast strides, “Clones are a loyal specimen and possibly even the best soldiers we could’ve asked for during the war, yes, but I’m not sure they’re fit to be assassins—“ He cuts me off.

“Oh, they are.” His voice is laced with confidence, leaving little room for doubt and I hesitate before shaking my head and letting my stubbornness slip.

“With all due respect, being an assassin requires far more than just killing. It’s about precision and stealth, both things clone soldiers aren’t exactly known for,” I fight back, motioning toward the soldiers with a wave, “I’ve looked over the Cuy’val Dar’s records from Kamino before, there’s a reason I never worked with them during the wars; most of the troopers performed weakly in those areas, mediocre at best!”

With a sigh, Hemlock stops and turns to face me. “This division underwent extensive reconditioning and rigorous training to ensure full success in the field. Every operative within this elite unit possesses unparalleled expertise, from precision marksmanship to covert infiltration,” he then towers over me, cold eyes penetrating my soul in a judgemental manner, “You have been selected to lead these specimens to success and the Empire expects no less of you. Have I made myself clear?” A chill runs down my spine at his tone and suddenly my mouth goes dry.

I have never been a people person, always working alone and always triumphing alone. Even during the days of the Republic, the Jedi knew better than to pair me up with their people after requesting my help for a mission. Putting me in a position of leadership and responsibility for an entire division is … scary to say the least. But when the Empire wants something from you, it’s better to comply than to step back and so, I swallow the fearful lump in my throat and nod slowly.

“Yes sir.”

Hemlock smiles, a sickeningly sweet smile as he breathes out. “Wonderful.”

Suddenly, the piercing ring of a commlink catches our attention and he raises the small cylinder. “Sir,” a female voice pipes up at the other end of the line, “the Kaminoan scientist is requesting your assistance.” Without responding, Hemlock the commlink back in his pocket and then faces me again. “It appears I am needed elsewhere. RC-1262 will meet you here tomorrow at 0600 sharp for briefing.” He fiddles with the black glove draping one of his hands, ready to turn his back on me but not before giving me one last warning glance. “Remember,” he starts with a dangerous glint in his eyes, “failure is not an option. The Empire demands excellence, and I expect nothing less." His words hang in the air, heavy with the weight of expectation and consequence. As he strides away, followed by his clone commando, I'm left with a sinking feeling in my chest.

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lonewolfel · 2 years

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Fictober 2022 Day 11

Prompt: 6 - "Adaptable, I like that."

Fandom: SWTOR

Rating: Gen

Relationships: N/A

Characters: Arcann, Major Jaqee Soti (Republic Trooper), Jorgan, Ciece Kal (Bounty Hunter), Mentioned Thexan, Mentioned Onorshash Haly (Jedi Consular), Mentioned Vaylin

As Arcann boarded the ship a feeling of dread washed over him. He knew that no one wanted anything to do with him in the Alliance, and it wasn't like he could blame them. He had tried to kill everyone here multiple times including his own family.

Now Arcann was on a ship full of them going on a mission to help defeat Vaylin. His own sister. He really couldn't blame Thexan for wanting to leave him. He truly was awful.

The Alliance itself was interesting. At first, he had thought that it was simply a ragtag group of unorganized rebels. Then when the Alliance began to gain more victories he suspected that it was an organized machine. In some ways both of those were correct.

The Alliance was organized with leaders that ran the show, but it wasn't like Zakuul. Everyone got a say there were discussions that often led to chaos. It made Arcann wonder how anything is ever done. Not that he has really seen them. He only has what Thexan and Onorshash would tell him.

Arcann was very much the pariah of the Alliance and it was as clear as day. The second that he entered the room all the people would go silent and glare at him. If looks could kill they would have killed him a thousand times over just in a day.

Now he was on a mission with those very people. Arcann had a feeling that they needed a sacrifice or were going to kill him, but Thexan trusted them not to so Arcann was going to go along. After all, he owed his twin that much at least.

The ship was bustling. The various crew members were going about their business trying to get everything for the mission prepared. They were so busy that they didn't even glare or notice him. Arcann continued to move forward to ensure that he was not blocking anyone's way. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do.

"Arcann." Major Soti said from behind him. He turned around and looked at the small Mirilian woman. She was wearing her usual armor but it did nothing to stop Arcann from wondering how a small breeze doesn't knock her over. "Follow me."

With that, the alien bobbed and weaved through the mass of working bodies with an ease that Arcann couldn't in his wildest dream replicate. Finally, they reached the meeting area. There, there were a variety of people some of whom Arcann has never seen before.

"Now that everyone is here we can get started." Major Soti said

"According to our informant, the ship will be in a position in 2 standard republic hours." A male Cathar said. Major Soti nodded her head. Arcann tried to calculate how many hours and minutes it would be in Zakuulan time, but he quickly gave up. He had droids that had done it for him before so he never bothered to actually learn. Now he wished he had at the very least he could known when they will arrive.

"Correct, the area is pretty much dead space. No one but Zakuul uses this area making it pretty much unknown to the rest of the galaxy." Major Soti said. Arcann looked at the area. The info was right this was only used by Zakuul.

"And the Republic and Empire are too cowardly to explore." A cyborg said. Arcann looked them over and saw that most of the cybernetics were made using beskar. This likely meant they were a Mandalorian.

"Something like that." Major Soti agreed reluctantly. "So we will be splitting up in groups of three. Jorgan you and your group will be attacking the lower deck and sabotaging as we go along. Ciece you and the rest of the Mandalorians are going to be attacking the upper level of the ship. You'll be hitting the armory. Make as much of a mess as possible. Me and Arcann will handle the bridge."

"Adaptable, I like that." The cyborg said. They grabbed their gun as if prepared to fire.

"Major..." The Cathar started. Major Soti gave him a look.

"We've been over this Jorgan. I know what I am doing." Major Soti said. Jorgan looked as if he disagreed still but he backed down. "Now everyone get ready. We all need to be in position 30 standard minutes before we arrive. May the Force be with you."

#fictober22 #swtor #Star Wars The Old Republic #arcann #female trooper #aric jorgan #swtor bounty hunter #swtor trooper #fanfic #fan fiction

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wackyart · 2 years

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Thunderclap Chronicles, Part 1

Cena: Rue, darling, where's your brother ? Rue *calmly, with protection glasses and moving beschers with fluorescent substances*: Elara took him to Coruscant to buy some explosives mom. But only in the underground ! We needed more for some new grenades we've been making recently. Cena: She did what-... Jorgan I think we need to talk about Elara teaching our kids arson-

#swtor romance #swtor stuff #sw art #swtor fanfiction #sw ocs #swtor brainrot #my swtor #swtor trooper #aric jorgan #togruta #togruta oc #swtor republic trooper #aric jorgan x female republic trooper #I love them

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doublesunsets · 9 months

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Wild Nights

Crosshair x female!reader PWP - NSFW Word Count: 2k

Request from @freesia-writes

(...) either Crosshair or Hunter taking their time absolutely tantalising a fem reader until she’s nearly feral… You can “finish” or not.

Note: Hopefully it gets close to what you had in mind, Free! I'm not so sure about the tantalising part, but there's definitely some teasing 😁.

I have no idea what happened here, Crosshair wanted that, don't ask me. It went a little bit out of hand, so I turned it into a proper one-shot. First time writing Crosshair, please be kind, he is hard (no pun intended). Extremely indulgent. Training room fantasies, am I right? Timeline is before Order 66, in case anyone wants to know.

This was so much fun, thank you again for the request! 💜 -Sunset

✩Ao3 Link

The drops of sweat fell down your neck as you tried to stabilise your heart. You knew what to do, deep breath, one, two, let it out, and your heart slowly went back to its normal rhythm. The rain threw itself to the floor to ceiling window of the training room, while the waves crashed as well, making it impossible to distinguish which way was the water coming from. You hated being stationed in Kamino, it was like being trapped inside a gigantic washing cycle. Only storms and sleepless nights spent alone in a training room.

“Odd hours for a training session.”

The deep voice startled you, and you turned around quickly. Its owner was watching you, lounging at the door like a wave just brought him there. He was… strange for a clone, was he even a clone? Maybe he was a bounty hunter like you, but then why would he be wearing the black glove of the Republic? He had to be. Those muscles were too perfect to not be engineered, and those legs looked good enough to—

“Are you done?”

You spluttered, embarrassed at being caught ogling him, and put your hands on your hips in an attempt to command some respect. “Identify yourself, trooper.”

“Crosshair.” He squared his shoulders and entered the room, letting the door slide close after him. “I know who you are, I’ve seen you training regs.”

“Is that what you want? Some training?”

“There’s nothing you could teach me.” He took a studiously slow step towards you and you repressed the urge to take one back. Something about the way he moved made him look dangerous, even if he was unarmed. “But there is something that I want. You.”

“Is that so?”

“Let’s say, I have you in my scope.” The mirth in his eyes told you there was a joke there that you were not getting, but the tone of his voice didn’t let any doubt about what he was actually saying.

“Please, you wouldn’t even know what to do with me,” your tone of voice matched his sassy one to your surprise. Why were you enabling him? Oh, Maker, were you flirting? Were overconfident clones your type tonight?

He stopped in front of you, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him, a high contrast with the cold room. “We could make it a game. We could see how long it takes until I turn you into a whimpering mess.”

While he spoke, he started circling around you, a brief touch to your arm, his fingers drawing the curve of your hip. When he reached your other side, you looked over your shoulder to his warm eyes. By the suns, he was smoking hot. His white hair fell down on his forehead, and it was blinding under the neon lights of the facility. Blast it, if he wanted to play, you could play. What he was offering was definitely better than training by yourself, there was nothing wrong in taking it. You raised your chin and turned to face him, and he took it as the permission it was. He half-smiled, the corner of his lip barely pulling up, and circled your wrist with his fingers.

“Good choice.”

“You sure think highly of yourself, don’t you?”

He didn’t respond, just let his fingers travel up, through the back of your arm, with enough pressure that the contact felt oddly grounding. From your shoulder, he followed then the angle of your collarbone to the hollow of your neck and rested his palm flat there, on top of your breastbone, his fingertips just grazing your neck.

It made you feel conscious about your heart, which was thundering against his palm. Deep breath, one, two, let it out. He made a non-committal noise, and his hand slid up your neck until his nails grazed the hair of your nape, his thumb resting under your jawbone. He put some pressure into it and you allowed him to lift your head.

Meticulously, he bowed his head to you and his breath fanned over your neck. You waited for lips that never came.

“Are you not going to do anything?” You told him, tone annoyed despite yourself. He was getting under your skin too fast for your liking.

“I am.” His lips were still not touching you, but for a second you felt the tip of his nose trace the skin under your ear.

“A conversationalist.”

Crosshair huffed and before you could make another sarcastic comment about it, he grabbed your shoulder and spun you around, making your back collide with his chest. His hand was grabbing now the front of your neck, still forcing your head up, which rested on his shoulder. You closed your eyes and felt his strong body at your back, a solid wall that burned like the scorching sand of Tatooine. His chest was still, almost like he wasn’t breathing, barely moving, and while he was not choking you, the strength and precision of those fingers was clear to you. A thrill went down your spine at the thought.

“You are a sniper.”

He actually chuckled at that, and got closer to your ear, brushing his lips softly against its shell, lowering his sibilant voice. “Clever girl.”

You reached back and clawed at his thighs, but he clearly wasn’t planning on rushing. He started tracing down your figure with his free hand, the curve of your breast, down your stomach, and over your hipbone. One finger sneaked itself under the waistband of your leggings, and stayed there. As a promise.

He barely had touched you but you felt your knees weak already, and refused to let him know that. Trying to break your resolution, his lips dropped to your pulse point, delicately, and a whimper struggled to escape your throat. You swallowed it down in a harsh breath, but your nails sank down harder into the firm muscle. He didn’t flinch, though, Crosshair carried on down your neck, turning them into wet kisses and leaving a trail that quickly cooled down on your skin. The goosebumps were because of that, you lied to yourself.

“I’ve been thinking about this for so long,” he hissed, almost like he was talking to himself. “Seeing those regs poor attempts at flirting with you was painful to watch. Someone as extraordinary as yourself deserves only extraordinary things.”

“And are you?” You breathed, wetting your lips. “Extraordinary?”

“You have no idea.”

A thunder reverberated in the room and you gasped, pushing yourself harder against him. His hand took advantage of it and abandoned your neck, travelling down to your breast, and started kneading it over your clothes.

The solid presence of his body behind you exuded power and confidence, he had you in his hands, quite literally, and he hadn’t needed to do anything. The most intoxicating feeling was the delicacy of his movement and what hid behind it. Because you could feel the restraint, the tension in his body. You realised, then. This man could wreck you, take you with the same violence as the storm outside, but instead he was waiting, like a snake coiled, ready to strike.

He knew what he was doing, he was waiting, looking through his scope. Waiting until you put yourself in front of his crosshair so he had a clean shot.

The bastard wanted you to beg.

You tried to breathe. One, two. Your legs were trembling. One, two. He bit your earlobe. One, two. He pinched your nipple. One, two. Dank Farrik.

“Crosshair, I need yo—“

You didn’t have to finish your sentence.

In a smooth movement, his hand sneaked inside your clothes and grabbed firmly your whole cunt. A whine left your throat and you heard him snickering behind you.

“Still not moaning,” you told him, breathless, but steady.

“You speak with too much dignity for someone this wet for me.”

You felt his fingers slid between your labia, through that wetness that sure enough was there, probably since the moment those eyes pierced into yours. Finally, unhurriedly, he penetrated you with two fingers, finding no resistance, only a warm and drenched welcome. You wanted to scream at him to move faster, but refused to give him the satisfaction and grabbed his thighs, enveloping them completely this time, and squeezed hard.

“You are missing the show,” he rasped, while he started kissing your neck again.

It took you a moment to realise what he meant, his fingers were only barely intruding and his kisses were more a dragging of lips, but your mind was drunk with his presence. You opened your eyes and there, in front of you, you saw yourself. Reflected in the window, with the storm as a background, and Crosshair right behind you. One hand between your legs, while the other grabbed your breast desperately, he returned your gaze.

And he looked devastated.

The visual crumbled your resolve, without looking away you opened your mouth and the lewd sounds he wanted came out of it. He closed his eyes and buried his face in your hair, and you felt a sigh break loose. Crosshair dragged his fingers out of you, and dead on target went directly to your clit and circled it in tight motions almost violently. Your body jerked in his arms, after all the pent-up sensations the intensity hit you perfectly, and soon a fire began to concentrate in you, begging to spread out.

You were dimly aware of Crosshair humping your behind, panting heavily still with his face hidden in your hair, while the frantic pace of his fingers started to match the rhythm of his hips. Your moans were not the only sound in the room now and hearing him whimper against your skin was almost enough to take you over the edge. Almost.

Emboldened and a little bit desperate for your release, you lifted your arm and reached behind you, grabbing his hair and yanking until his face was next to yours. He hissed but it was silenced quickly by your bruising kiss, that he accepted enthusiastically. The moment your lips parted, his tongue invaded your mouth and you yanked at his hair again while a white heat spread like wildfire inside you. Crosshair swallowed your scream, and kept massaging you until you rode it out completely.

By the time you came back, he had stopped humping against you and was simply slumped over your shoulder, hugging you from behind, one hand still inside your clothes. You were still pulling at his hair, so you untangled your fingers gently and stroked the side of his head.

“I don’t know how this game of yours worked, but I feel like I won,” you whispered.

You heard a dry chuckle as his body vibrated slightly against yours.

Outside, the storm had subsided a little bit.

Your new assignment was supposed to meet you at Hangar-19 ten minutes ago. If you were lucky enough, they had left already and you could go back to bed, you thought to yourself, strolling leisurely through the halls of Tipoca City. You were not in the mood to start a several rotations mission with a new team.

The bastard, as you had started calling him, left shortly after your encounter with flimsy excuses about early calls. You had wanted to search for him in the database, only to realise that he never told you his number, so you had no way of finding him.

When you arrived at the hangar, an Omicron-class attack shuttle threw your hopes out into the ocean. Their owners, clad in black armour, were waiting for you at the ramp and one of them approached you while you tried to remember the rank and name they had given you. Maybe you should have read further than the two first lines.

“I’ve been told to meet with my new assignment here, Sergeant…”

“Hunter. We were expecting you, yes.” He turned and your eyes followed the direction of his hand to the rest of the team. “This is Clone Forc-“

“Crosshair!” You gasped as his white hair came into view when he removed his helmet. Crosshair smirked and puffed out his chest at your reaction.

“Ah! You know her? Nice!”

“This explains where you were last night.”

Your new assignment looked pretty interesting out of the sudden.

Tag list (reminder to let me know if you are not interested in being tagged or if you want to be included!)

@motte-the-goblin @fenharel-enaste @nahoney22

#crosshair x reader #tbb fanfiction #tbb crosshair #fic request #smut #star wars smut #sunset writes

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echoedcrosshairs · 10 months

Text

Unseen Scars

Summary: Female Jedi survived order 66 hides out in the underground of Ord Mantell. Hiding out in Cid's parlor keeping your head down you see Rex's face and get sent backward in time. (Gif by @dreamswithghosts)

Warning: Order 66 Jedi Trauma, Feeling Haunted, Soft Rex, Angsty and Love

Word count: 2.7

(part two)

Masterlist

The costs of war can never be truly accounted for, you spun the disgusting bottom shelf liquid around your glass pondering Master Yoda's saying noting how right it was. Your head swam back to when the order was given, feeling all the death and pain through the force. The betrayal on the deepest level, soldiers we fought beside for years trusted with our lives killing us like discarded bantha fodder. We never saw it coming, we speculated something was coming but we never dreamed that our dearest allies would turn on us. You wondered if anyone had made it and if they too lived like womp rats hiding in darkness.

One must let go of the past to hold on to the future. The saying twisted in your guts like a knife, how does one even move past something like that? How could I even think of the future? Your mind wandered to your closest... friend and confidant then the rage seethed like it normally did when you envision his face knowing it was one of countless who gunned down Jedi. You slammed the drink back. Looking up you saw another hooded stranger walking sitting in the other dark corner. Your mind went blank at this presence, body screaming at you to run... it didn't take long to find out why. Frozen to your seat like the ice of Hoth itself held you down forcing you to watch the scene unfolds. In the commotion your hood most have fallen back, the four men and him stared at you you didn't hear a word that was said before that your ears rang and your mind fell blank. Puzzled looks fell on the four men's faces as he softly said "Commander..." The title use to make your heart flutter everytime he called it out but now it just filled you with terror. Any minute now he was going to shoot, your heart pounded and your feet finally started moving.

Rex fell to unabashedly to his knees for a moment watching you flee from him, she's not dead, the relief flooded him followed by agonizing truth that you were horrified of him, why wouldn't you be? Why didn't you hear that his chip was gone? His hand wiped the revolution that trickled from his eyes. Rex's head was spinning but he pulled himself up one leg at a time. He looked at Echo who was staring at the door before turning to him gripping his shoulder, "We'll find her, Captain."

"Who was that, Rex?" Hunter asked.

"A Jedi," Echo whispered, "a very dear friend of ours."

Hunter waited staring at Rex knowing there was more to the story, "Found her," Tech said interrupting the silence.

"Where is she," Echo said taking the data pad from Tech, "She's on the move-" finally noticing the wetness he wiped from his face.

"Girlfriend, wasn't she?" Tech said filling in the unspoken blanks.

"Soldier's can't have relations with the Jedi-" Rex stated.

"The Republic is gone and to the Empire you are dead," Tech said flatly.

"We have to go, Captain," Echo urged, Rex nodded and the Five of them started running.

What is lost is often found. Ord Mantell had become your darkness, a sliver of peace and privacy in the blossoming chaos of the Empire spreading through out the galaxy. A chance to fade into the shadows as a relic of an era that was over. Now this home had to be abandon just like everything else. Your feet kept running and the hair on back of your neck stood up. You looked back, nearly tripping noticing the four's armor. Commando's, the deadliest troopers, designed differently and raised to endure. They probably have everything mapped out in their hands, it's like shooting a rancor in a cage. Not even with my saber do I stand a chance against four... Although one seems familiar... You looked back noticing the one with a stomp, "Echo... Clone Force 99," you ducked sideways into the nearest building. Crosshair has to be up above some where waiting for his trap to spring.

You cut through the building hopefully buying yourself time to think. Running out of breath you rested for a second against the wall. You mentally listed Hunter's, Tech's and Wrecker's enhancements. Anyone but Wrecker even with his strength I doubt it would be quick... Then again with Crosshairs temperament I doubt he would be either. You hit your head back against the wall before taking off again. Turning your head again you saw Hunter catching up, you stopped for a second using the force to rip a door and shoved it in his direction, but you knew it was to late his hunters sense of smell and hearing... If I could just get to the nightclub... I could use that against him- You're body collided with a solid mass and tumbled back, Echo. You scrambled back to your feet defensively reaching for the lightsaber that was no longer there.

"I'm putting down my blaster," Echo said eyeing you like a rapid animal waiting to lounge, "Commander, you're safe. None of us are going to hurt you nor to turn you in."

"The clones betrayed us," you gritted out slowly backing out of the room.

"Not all of us, Commander," Rex said behind you and his arms come around you. Feeling you thrash against him, "Mesh'la..." he got out pained softly whispering your name, "You're safe," he felt your legs buckle slowly took both of you to the ground holding you against him wrapping his arms around you tighter hearing the sobs start. He gave Echo a weary look as he sat looking at the two of you.

"Commander, I'm glad you made it. Both of you," Echo said taking off his helmet setting it off to the side, "The three of us together again," he added quietly with a small chuckle.

"Say something..." Rex whispered, "anything..."

"Let me go.." as you finished the sentence Rex's arm came off, always the loyal solider following orders. Pathetically you crawled away from both of them curling your knees to your body. You looked at them resting your head on your knee, "Is this some sick trick?" You whispered.

Rex's fingers went to the scar on the side of his head, "It's gone," he paused reaching out his hand, "Ask me again."

Anxiously you took his hand and asked again feeling the truth in the answer and Echo did the same, "The others need to get their chips out but they haven't activated, I promise."

Finally you genuinely looked at Rex, the fine buzzed blonde hair, the poncho hiding his 501st armor and earthy tones eyes staring back at you. You stared at him the red veins in his eyes, you wiped the tears from your own looking up out the windows. There was no imperial ships above waiting because they would have been here by now. Glancing down you found your hand visibly shaking you pulled your arms into your lap handing them. You looked back at Rex as much as you wanted to see him your mind kept slipping backwards seeing the troopers fire at you and the others fleeing. Shutting your eyes you buried your head in your lap.

"So... why are they just sitting there?" Wrecker asked.

"Given the last time she was around regs they tried to terminate her per Order 66," Tech offered, "If she around them when the order was given which I am assuming she was given her behavior."

"Shouldn't we be in there because we're not regs?"

"No, we still have our chips however deviant we are if what Captain Rex says to be true, the three of us are the dangerous ones. I would leave them be."

"Commander..." Rex said softly.

"The war is over, you don't need to call me that," you said lifting your head to your knees. Rex whispered your name softly and you forced yourself to look at him, "What?" you whispered.

"I'm glad you're still here."

You reminded silent for a moment, How do I even answer that? I'm not. "Thank you," you decided to be polite.

"Do you want me to give you two a couple minutes?" Echo asked softly.

No, "Yes," forced its way out through your strained vocals.

Echo looked at Rex hesitantly before prying himself off the hard ground heading outside to meet up with his squad, finding the anxious look on their faces discussing what had compelled Rex to cry given it was next to impossible for a clone. Everyone in the had 501st gossiped about what was going between them but neither of them had every winded any truth to it, Echo aired that curiosity to them which silenced them in understanding.

Rex moved closer to you watching you flinch moving his hands under his poncho watching you tense up as he took it off. He slowly took off his armor laying it to him revealing the plain civvies underneath, "Just me," he whispered watching you relax a bit. He cautiously scoot forward waiting to see if you would move away when you didn't he came a hands width away. He looked at the ponchow with an idea putting it over both of your heads surrounding both of you in completed darkness to keep the reminders of his face at bay but also privacy, "Just us."

"Why did you chase after me?"

"I always protect my Jedi, I'll always protect you."

"Why did you send 99 after me... it was horrifying."

"That wasn't my idea albeit it was a good plan to get around you sensing me if you were distracted," Rex admitted, "It worked in my favor, albeit to well." Weakly Rex let his finger tips touch your knee waiting to see if you'd jerk away but you didn't and he slide his palm on your knee resting it there. He gave it a gentle squeeze, "I'm sorry."

Shakily you put your hand on top of it and squeezed it back. The familiar warmth radiated off him, "Rex," the name rolled from your tongue like a distant pleasant memory, "it's getting hot under here." He laid one hand on top yours and used the other to cast aside the poncho to the ground, "Better" you whispered.

"Do you want me to leave you alone?" it pained him to think about finding you again and losing you again but it comforted him that you had survived. He smiled watching the emotions coast through your face, you'd always been so good at hiding them but now they were as plain to see as the stars in a clear night.

Your mind screamed yes but the familiar warmth in your heart said no. Staring at the scar on his head, you shook your head Rex isn't a threat, Rex isn't a threat, Rex isn't a threat. Your stomach turned but you allowed yourself to reach out to him through the force finding the familiar honesty, courage, loyalty, the secret in his heart that did his best to hide from the outside world was so blatantly on display with his touch. You watch pain on his face slowly relieving.

You felt him slowly weave his fingers through yours, "Is that okay?" he asked.

"I can feel Echo's contentment and laughter from here," you weakly laughed.

"They did speculate about what was going on between us," Rex smiled looking up at Echo laughing in the window giving him a thumbs up hearing him faintly say 'Called it'. Rex groaned still smiling, "Will you allow this humble man to walk you back to the parlor?"

"Yeah... I need a drink... or a dozen," you said prying yourself up with him still holding your hand as he stood up himself temporarily letting go to reaffix his armor and poncho.

"When did you take up drinking?" he asked arching an eyebrow relacing his fingers through yours noting you wouldn't look at him to long but the expression said enough as to why. His thumb traced the reminiscent intimate skin of his love, each swipe solidifying that you were alive and there not just some figment of his imagination holding him to the past, "I've missed you with each breath of life my soul expels."

Your face flames at his words, "When did you become a poet?" you jested.

"To many late nights wondering what happened to you."

Echo rejoined the two of you but everyone else gave you breathing room. Even with his fingers gripping to yours he still brought his other hand across his body holding onto your arm for dear life. You looked up at him almost crying again, even before all of this you never publicly got to walk down the street with him or show any interest in him.

"What is it?" he whispered, "My fabulous hair getting in your eye?" he attempted to crack a joke.

"That was horrible, Captain," Echo chuckled.

You squeezed his hand, "Never got to do this before... walk down the street just as me and you."

"It's a different time," he offered.

"So Comm-" Echo caught the title switching to your name instead, "How long," he said motioning his finger between the two of you."

Rex looked at you a bright scarlet sweeping his face, "Well... somewhere between the whole time and now," he offered.

Echo gave him a flabbergasted look, "What."

"Help?" Rex choked out taking his extra hand off your arm to rub his head awkwardly which got an even more expressive reaction from Echo,

"Tibrin," you offered back smirking at the unspoken about mission.

Echo groaned knowing the answer was going to get him no where. He looked at both of you smiling, "Everything in the galaxy has changed but I'm glad something stayed the same."

"I didn't think it would," Rex said flatly staring at the ground for a couple minutes before looking back up.

You stopped as much as the anxiety about the clones put you on edge, that comment stung worse, "Commander?" he asked staring at you. Even Echo had stopped.

"To love, is to trust. To trust is to believe. Do you believe I would so easily changeable?"

"We change everyday to adapt to this new world. Who we are now is not who we were when we met."

You dropped his hand continued walking, "Cyare," he groaned wrapping his arms around you pulling you to him, "You didn't let me finish. We as people change but in no galaxy, nor time apart nor in death will my heart ever beat for anyone else. Looks at me Mesh'la," Rex swallowed although his mouth and throat were parched, "Let me kiss you to prove it."

You looked up at him, Rex had never been one for public affection even so much as holding his hands behind his back and side stepping if he was even within a foot of you even in moments of privacy outside of a confined bedroom. He peeled his gloves off sticking them in his pocket, "It's only ever been you," he said lightly touching your face with one hand waiting before bringing the other to your face caressing you pull you close to him lowering himself to you waiting and when you didn't move he took your bottom lip between his.

It was like thrusters coming online, an inferno blazing between the both of you. Every feeling of love, pain, lost and aching of the soul. Somewhere in the distant you heard Echo laughing and calling the two of you cute. Your fingers shakily found the side of his feeling the familiar cut of his cheeks and strength of his jaw. Then up to the scar flinching you pulled away. There was a temporary look of disappointment on his face followed by understanding. He grilled your fingers tighter, “I’ll spend the rest of life protecting you from the unseen scars with my love.” Rex pulled you closed, “I love you.”

Maybe a part two?

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