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levi-venn · 2 months

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The First Toothpick

Chapter 3: A Fistful of Carrots

Gen Fic - Mentor/Protege

Characters: Cad Bane, Crosshair (the kid), Jango (flashbacks).

Summary: Cad Bane teaches Crosshair how to be a sniper. The kid picks up some other habits as a result.

Chapter Summary: The kid experiences dry land for the first time. His reaction surprises Cad...but it also gives him an idea.

Chapters: Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6

Available on AO3 here

“It’s just grass.”

“The hell it is,” Cad said, retreating back up the ramp of the Firespray.

“C’mon, Cad, have a little faith in me. Watch.” Jango hopped out of the ship, landing waist deep in the field of golden brown wheat…

…like a damn fool.

So much wheat…stretching for as far as his scarlet globular eyes could see.

And that much wheat meant that many more places to hide.

“There’s things in there,” Cad warned, pointing to something rustling near Jango’s leg.

“Just critters. Predators don’t come out until nightfall and they prefer Fabools to humanoids. You’re safe, I promise.”

“Uh huh…” Cad took another step backwards. “...I’ll just stay here.”

It wasn’t that he missed his homeworld - fuck Duro - but at least he knew and accepted it for what it was: A world that had traded its soul for industry long before Cad was born. Clouds weren’t supposed to be white and fluffy like this. They should be oily and black belched from rusty smokestacks. Even the sky here was wrong, too blue, too bright, missing the stains of putrid orange and green. He’d been on this planet for less than a minute and already had his fill of the buzzing insects and…where the hell was that croaking coming from anyway?

“We got work to do, Cad. Don’t make me throw you over my shoulder like a bag of meilooruns.”

Cad sighed and stood on the edge of the ramp, staring down the untamed wilderness of what was supposedly a very tame ranch. The wheat stalks swooned in the breeze, like long fingers coaxing Cad into unseen jaws.

He sank one boot into the grass.

Something shrieked and shot up into the air.

Cad stumbled backwards, drawing one blaster only to have it slip from his fingers, sliding noisily down the ramp and out of sight into the wheat field. He pulled the second blaster and fired at the monster.

The convor flew away, unscathed.

“Aaaand this is why we’re here,” Jango frowned, picking up fumbled blaster and handing it back to Cad. “You’re jumpy as hell and can’t shoot for shit. If you want to keep calling me boss, get your shit together, Cad.”

“Yeah, boss,” Cad mumbled, holstering both blasters, embarrassment warming his face.

“Alright, enough lollygagging. Let’s go check on the Fabools.”

“What the hell is a Fabool?”

Cad found the kid curled up asleep in Bossk’s chair, cheek pressed against the scope of his rifle and a half-eaten protein bar in his hand.

Beneath the chair was the kid’s duffle bag, half-open. Cad nudged it with his boot. Jumpsuits, protein bars, packs of water purifying tablets. No toys, no music discs, no personality. Not a single candy bar.

Jango loved caramel Starsbars; always kept one on him, in a pouch next to his thermal dets. He also loved fried eggs and bacon, nerf stew with extra carrots, peach-flavored tihaar cocktails (though he always claimed he drank tihaar straight), and he bobbed his head to Figrin D'an And The Modal Nodes when he thought no one was looking.

Did all his clones experience the same joys he did? Were they even given a chance?

He kicked Bossk’s chair. “Get up, kid. We’re here.”

The kid sat upright, eyes still closed, a long, textured red line from the scope denting his cheek. “Where are we?”

“That’s classified,” Cad smirked.

“Haha, funny,” the kid yawned and slithered out of the chair. He took another bite of the protein bar, then tucked it back into his jumpsuit’s pocket.

I told him to find somethin’ to eat, Cad thought. Does he prefer his own rations?

“This hideout was Jango’s before it was mine. He taught me all I knew here n’ I’m gonna impart some of that know-how onto you.”

“I know how to shoot."

“Yeah, slower than molasses on Vandor,” Cad sneered. “We’re gonna fix that, but for now…” Cad activated the ramp. “...let’s just start with gettin’ out of the ship.”

The kid’s expression didn’t change.

Not when the door slid open.

Not when seeing, probably for the first time, an ocean of golden brown wheat, a clear sky, and a world alive with natural wonders.

Except that wasn’t exactly true. The kid's expression did change, if you knew where to look. Cad watched the kid's glassy brown eyes dart around the narrow view of the scenery, not like a frightened kid like Cad was all those years ago, but with a curious feline studying his new territory.

The kid ventured forward, standing on the edge of the ramp scanning the wheat field. He didn’t move for a long moment.

Cad stood beside him, studying his face. The kid didn’t look scared, but something was holding him back.

Finally, he looked up at Cad, brow knitted slightly.

Cad tilted his head. “What?”

“...is it safe?”

“C’mon, Cad, have a little faith in me,”

“Yeah, kid,” Cad said, Jango’s exasperated sigh burned in his memory. “It’s safe.”

As the kid took that first step forward, Cad leaned against the ship and popped a toothpick between his teeth. He expected to be here a while as the kid grew accustomed to the planet.

But the kid jumped in with two feet. Literally. And then took off like a blaster bolt, running through the fields like a wild lothcat and twice as silent, maneuvered through the grass with practiced efficiency.

Huh…engineered for stealth…created for war…

The kid chased some unseen varmint for a while before stopping to catch a butterfly in mid-air. As he cupped it in his hands, peeking through the fingers, a frog leapt onto his leg. The kid gasped, but even that was subdued. He eyed the frog with round, emotional eyes, then lifted his leg to show Cad.

Created for war…but still just a kid.

The frog disappeared into the kid’s pocket only to leap back out again as soon as the kid’s attention turned to a flock of ducks flying overhead.

“Believe it or not, Cad,” Jango said, arm draped loosely over Cad’s shoulder as they walked through the grass together. “There are some planets in this galaxy that aren’t a kriffing nightmare to live on.”

“Pretty planets can be dangerous too,” Cad mumbled.

“Hey,” Jango stopped in his tracks and made the sulking duros look him in the eye. Human eyes were always too emotional for Cad's liking. Jango's eyes weren't bad to look at though. Still, he scowled stubbornly. “I promised you a quiet place to train you and I meant it. You’re safe here. You’re safe with me.”

As the kid stood transfixed over a grasshopper crawling along his arm, Cad slung the kid’s rifle over his own shoulder, grabbed a few more bags, and exited the ship. He was halfway to the house when he realized the kid was following him, silent as the grave and his arm still extended giving the grasshopper a proper runway.

“Just goin’ to the house. Go play, kid.”

“I’m not playing,” the kid denied. “I’m here to learn.”

Cad sneered. “Like a good little soldier, huh?”

“I’m not just a soldier. I’m an elite-”

“Just be a kriffin’ kid today, okay?”

The kid’s neutral expression melted into something teetering on panic. He looked around again as if searching for something or someone to explain “playing” to him.

Made for war...

“How about this,” Cad sighed. “Do some recon. Get familiar with the territory. The perimeter extends to the barbed wire fence and the border of the lake. Report back when yer done.”

Seemingly satisfied with this “mission” he nodded and bounded off, the grasshopper flying behind him.

Fuck you, Jango, for givin’ just one special little Boba a childhood and leavin’ the rest behind.

Cad headed to the house and hoped Todo 360 had ordered the extra carrots for the nerf stew.

***

Cad remembered being disappointed when he first arrived at the hideout.

The word “hideout” made him think of a beaten up shack filled with illegal artillery, chests full of credits, and a bunch of mean-looking mercs he’d be glad to have on his side.

But this hideout was a farmhouse. A quaint home perched on a hill overlooking the wheat fields. Over the front door was a wooden sign with hand carved, flowery aurebesh reading: “The Stars Shine on This Home”. Rocking chairs moved with the cool breeze on the porch. Cheerful tulips welcomed bees in the front garden. Inside the house, there were floral quilts on the plush couches and horseshoes over every doorway. There was a ubiquitous scent of cinnamon and aged wood.

“Doesn’t look like much of a hideout,” Cad sulked, eyeing the pie cooling on the windowsill.

“And you don’t look like much of a mercenary,” Jango sneered, pulling out two plates and a pie server. “Looks can be deceiving.”

Three hours later, the kid showed up. Dirt caked his cheeks, burrs stuck to his jumpsuit. There was a scrape on his hand, and a few bugs and a frog peeked out of his pockets.

From the kitchen, Cad slid a heap of carrots into the simmering nerf stew and watched the kid carefully stalk the living room, eyeing everything, but touching nothing.

Well, almost nothing.

Cad’s wide-brimmed hat hung on the rack near the door.

The kid reached up for it.

“Take a seat, kid,” Cad said, his tone sharp. “Food’s almost ready.”

The kid snatched his hand back and scurried to the small table in the dining area. He sniffed the daisy bouquet centerpiece and looked shocked to realize it was real. He put one of the grasshoppers on one of the flowers. The grasshopper immediately hopped away.

Cad set the bowl of hearty nerf stew in front of the kid and brushed the grasshopper onto the floor. “Eat up. It’s tastier than those shitty protein bars ya got stowed away.”

The kid’s spoon poked experimentally at the stew.

“I like the protein bars,” he said, watching the hearty chunks of nerf bobbing in the sienna broth.

He took a bite of just broth at first, his face remaining neutral, but his brow rose a little lighter.

The second bite was a little more adventurous with a piece of nerf added to it.

The third bite was all carrots…

…and the kid immediately spat them out in his napkin, wrinkling his nose.

Cad nearly snickered.

Under any normal circumstance he would’ve found it funny.

But the disappointment hit his gut like a cheap shot.

It was just carrots. What would he care if the kid hated carrots and Jango ate them like candy?

Because this ain’t about carrots. If these clones ain’t like Jango, then they got free will, don’t they?

And if they got free will…

…what happens if they decide they don’t wanna be soldiers?

Questions far above his pay grade, but like Jango always said: “The day you stop asking questions is the day They win.”

Is that what you did, Jango? Cad wondered, bringing his own bowl of stew to the table. Did ya just stop askin’ questions?

Halfway through the quiet meal, Cad realized the kid was staring at him.

“Somethin’ on yer mind, kid?” He asked, not looking up.

The kid silently picked another carrot off his spoon and added it to the orange pile on his napkin.

“I asked ya a question.”

“I didn’t find any Fabool,” the kid murmured.

“Didja know where to look?”

“No.”

Cad raised his brow ridge. “Didja ask where they were?”

The kid shook his head.

“So? Ask me.”

“Where are they?”

“Behind the house. Finish your stew and I’ll show y-”

The kid dropped his spoon, grabbed the bowl and, in record time, gulped down the rest of the stew, chewing the last bits noisily and spitting out a final piece of carrot.

“Ready.” he said, deadpan, though his eyes sparkled as bright as Jango’s whenever Cad handed him a Starsbar.

Need Todo to order more Starsbar, Cad reminded himself. Just in case.

***

Behind the house was a square, quarter acre of land, sectioned off with a two meter high fence covered in thick brown wool. From the outside, it just looked like an extra storage shed, but as Cad and the kid drew nearer, it was evident something was moving around inside the enclosure.

The kid pressed his face against the fabric barrier trying to see through it without any luck. The Fabools snuffled inquisitively on the other side.

“Whats with the blankets?”

Huh…first question I didn’t have to pry outta him, Cad mused.

“Fabools are about as sensitive as they are stupid. In the wild they’re liable to get stuck on thorn bushes n' deflate, makin' 'em easy pickin's for predators. The goal is to keep ‘em safe n’ happy in here so they produce more eggs."

"Eggs?"

"These eggs ain't for eatin'. Not for us anyway. They fetch a pretty price on the black market since the egg whites got hallucinatory properties to 'em.” He unlocked the door but held it closed, his eyes narrowing at the kid. “Walk carefully n’ don’t bring anythin’ sharp in here. You deflate ‘em, I deflate you, got it?”

“Okay,” the kid said, with enough earnestness to ease Cad's mind. "Wait," he added suddenly, pulling out a small vibroblade from his boot, and stuck it in the ground outside the enclosure. "Okay, ready."

“Good kid,” Cad nodded.

The kid immediately looked away, but not before Cad noted the faintest trace of a smile in his cheeks.

Soon as the gate opened, the kid slipped through it and was immediately overwhelmed, disappearing beneath a bouncing avalanche of furry Fabools.

Fabools were balloon-like creatures in every way imaginable, perfectly round, airy and gentle, and navigated the world through bouncing and floating with vague intent on their destination. Short gray fur covered their bodies, and their two webbed feet may have once been used for swimming eons ago, but that evolutionary branch had long since broken off. Their flippers remained as an imperfect guidance system, and Fabools tended to flap out of sheer excitement than for propulsion.

While they didn't exactly have heads, their face was located flush against the upper hemisphere of their round form, a tiny upturned mouth sandwiched between two, round black eyes which blinked adoringly at the kid.

The kid sank into the grass in wide-eyed wonderment, opening his arms to gently hug however many Fabools he could while the rest rolled and bounced all around him.

Cad couldn’t be sure, but he thought he heard the kid hiss out a small, brief laugh.

“What the fuck, Jango?” Cad growled, backing up as the creatures bounced closer and closer. “Get ‘em away from me.”

“They’re harmless.”

“Then why’re they chasin’ me?” He climbed up the fence, the little monsters hopping in the air obviously trying to bite him.

“They don’t even have teeth. I promise you, they're not dangerous, just curious. Trust me.”

"Trust me..."

Something clicked in Cad’s mind.

…Well shit. Now I know why Jango asked me to train this kid. Snipin’ isn’t this kid’s problem. Trust is.

Not trust in other people. This kid seemed to have an abundance of blind trust for authority figures…something Cad would train out of him in a heartbeat if he wasn’t getting paid for this job.

The thing is, the kid had trust for everyone outside of himself.

That’s why he shoots so slow. That’s why he’s so damn hesitant to speak his mind. He’s got that spark in him, but Jango hired me for one specific reason: I got trust for no one but myself.

“They’re so…helpless,” The kid said, watching one of the males roll by, webbed feet kicking uselessly in the air. The kid gave him a little push to help him to his feet.

So are you, kid, Cad thought, popping a toothpick in his mouth. But don’t worry. We’re gonna fix that. You may hate me afterwards…

…but either way you’ll be stronger for it, and I’ll get paid either way.

#bad batch crosshair #tbb crosshair #the bad batch #cad bane #star wars the clone wars #jango fett #tbb cad bane #The First Toothpick

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itsagrimm · 2 years

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The Hot Pressurised Tin Can

Chapter 11 of The Hat Collection

Cad Bane X she*her afab woman

CN fingering, smut, masturbation, self-doubt, cursing, mentions of food

3k Words

Summary: co-habitation with an (ex?)-lover on a small space ship can be a challenge especially when you used to bang on every available spot in the ship. also, bane and loth cat make plans about how to kidnap their target.

Beta read by @queenquazar 💕 thank you so much, friend

The dark embraced you with long clawed hands. Hot fingers caressed your body, making you hum as they glided down lower and lower and lower. A moan escaped you as those dark blue fingers touched your wet folds and brushed through them before settling on little circles on your clitoris.

You bit your lip.

It felt so good - too good.

You turned around, fighting the tangled bed sheets to reach Cad. He was so close, you knew it. The weight of his body pressing down on yours. The heat of him burning, nearly scorching through the never-ending sheets as you pushed and rummaged to get to him.

With longing hands, you tried to touch his skin, kiss him, give him pleasure and whisper all the painful little secrets and words you kept to yourself.

Just a little bit more.

Just-

You stretched out to grasp him meet with the harsh, cold, and flat surface of the wall.

You opened your eyes.

What a disappointing ending for a dream.

The sound of your bare feet on the floor sounded like stones hitting the water of a still pond.

Elegant, like a duck.

You toddled out of your quarters to get some water and clear your head from any more of those ridiculous horny thoughts.

The Justifier’s machines hummed as you walked the abandoned corridors to the kitchen and got yourself a cup of water. With the ship back in space floating around Nar Shaddaa, the trustors only worked occasionally to keep the ship floating in place despite the gravity of the close moon it orbited. It was as calm as it could be on a running ship.

You leaned against the counter while sipping from the cup.

The cold water helped - but not much.

The fading dream was nothing in comparison to the memories you had doing it with Bane right on the counter you leaned against now.

It was ridiculous. All of it.

And you had stayed. You had the chance to leave a ship in which you used every imaginable surface for sex and escape from one of the most dangerous men in the galaxy you had said sex with. And you had stayed.

Because I am apparently a foolish horny woman lying to myself, even in my dreams.

You could not help but nod at your own admission.

It was a dangerously stupid choice.

But it was your own. It felt good to have at least that. And you couldn’t go back anyway. Even if you made the wrong decision.

You finished your cup of water, silently lamenting it wasn’t something else to burn down your throat, before retreating back. It was strange how familiar those walls and corridors had become to you. You had chosen not to see them as your prison anymore. They were home… for now.

At the closed entrance to the cockpit, you stopped. Those long hot fingers visiting your dreams where right behind those doors. You longed to visit them in your conscious moments too, opening the door and stepping through in various stages of nudity as you had before.

You shook your head.

Foolish thoughts of a foolish woman.

Why would he want that?

He had tried to resist, had really tried not to think of her too much. But she had come to him in his dreams, and he had woken up with his mind occupied with her scent and his cock hard from memories of her.

Bane suppressed a moan to keep as silent as possible as he masturbated to the mental image and memories of her. He already felt unusually vulnerable indulging in those memories. He’d rather face the whole Hutt cartel’s might than drawing loth cats’ attention now and having to explain whose name he moaned when being in his makeshift bed.

Bane licked over his thin lips.

He edged closer and closer to his peak, thinking of her gleaming eyes, her small hands in comparison to his slender long ones, her legs – so much leg – and how they wound around his body, how hot and wet and painfully excited she felt as she clawed and bit and teared and moaned.

He came into his hand.

Bane leaned back into the hammock he put up as a bed in the cockpit, too defeated to clean up the mess. He knew he should feel worried about his attachment to essentially a lover of a few one nightstands. In his profession, caring was a luxury. But his mind could not conjure any other fantasy other than her, and his body craved no one else’s but hers. Still, he would keep his distance from a likely traumatised and dependent woman – as much as that was possible on a spaceship. Getting her out of the mess he had created, and letting her settle on a safer planet to live a safer and happier life without him, was the best he could do for loth cat lady.

He owed her that.

Bane sighed, torn about his resolution to not be selfish, yet lamenting it at the same time.

But what else was he supposed to do?

No one in their right mind would choose to stay with someone like him if they had a choice.

XXX

Three cups were standing on the little kitchen table in the Justifier’s small kitchen. Two of those were filled with hot caf, the other empty. You felt weird about leaving the droid TODO out and opted for at least giving him a pretend cup full of recycle spaceship air.

Bane grabbed the caf without any second thought before turning his attention back to researching his target Sy Snootles. You suppressed a laugh at the sight of the middle-aged bounty hunter’s concentrated expression, staring at holos of the popstar Snootles singing about the wonders of youthful looooove and wiiiiild life.

Silently you took a seat at the table with Bane and TODO before sipping from your own cup. Like Bane, TODO was busy, doing some repairs, ignoring your efforts of including the droid in carbon based habits.

You did not mind.

Instead, you sipped from your cup while enjoying this newfound calm and normalcy.

Bane grumbled and leaned back, stopping his research on the popstar, and facing you instead.

“I don’ get this,” he exhaled, “The music is not to ma’ taste. Fine. But those gossips and scandals? Why is there so much of it? So unreliable.”

You slowly sipped from the cup with gusto.

“Ever considered that some just enjoy it for its chaotic-ness? Not everyone is a bounty hunter and reads tabloids to research their target or watch music holos to learn about how the target and talks? You know, like a killer.”

Bane grabbed his own cup again. “Ever consider, that ya’ too clever to state the obvious?”

You smirked. “No.”

A hint of a smile danced over his lips before he continued. “Lemme just ramble my frustrations away, loth cat. Every time I think I have a usable piece of information a contradictory gossip arises. Snootles has a family we might use as leverage? Apparently all dead, maybe, or not. Her favorite food is from one specific cantina on Alderaan we could poison her with? They specialize on molluscs and her kind can’t digest those. She has a boyfriend? Never seen in public and allegedly he is dead. I know so much about this Snootles now yet nothing at all. It’s like herding a buncha’ tookas.”

You nodded with understanding.

“Celebrity news is a horrible basis for your research on Snootles. I get it. But maybe that won’t be necessary? I picked up gossip like that all the time in the cantina. It’s part of the job. Maybe I can tell you all you need to know?”

“I am sure Master Bane is more than capable of solving this issue on his own,” TODO interjected.

“Any help is appreciated if it means I don’ have’ta read dis,” Cad stated tiredly and hushed TODO.

You swallowed audibly.

You wanted to help Cad but it wasn’t like you had a set plan in mind.

Carefully, you considered what you knew, separating the useless to from the usable while the bounty hunter sat in front of you, waiting patiently until you were ready to speak.

“Well…,” you started, “Sy Snootles is a Pa’lowick popstar and performer. She got famous with a cooperation with Max Rebo and has toured solo since then. Snootles has a very unique drawly voice and is a teen favorite, especially for her dances.”

You paused, trying to think like a bounty hunter: “We need her alive, right?”

Cad grumbled something that passed as agreement.

A familiar kind of dredd crept up in you.

You cleared your throat, pushing it down. “Currently she performs in Gardulla the Hutts Palace while working on her new release album.”

You considered what that would mean. ”So, security will be tight.”

Another grumbled agreement.

“There were rumors of Snootles being involved with Ziro the Hutt. Maybe that’s the boyfriend she is never seen with-”

“Was,” Bane rasped.

“Was?” you asked.

“Was - if Ziro is the boyfriend then he ain’t no more. I had a contract to kill him, but someone got him before me. Ziro the Hutt is dead,” Cad Bane clarified.

You shivered at the nonchalance of Banes words, how he sounded more hurt at someone besting him than the violent death of a sentient being.

Was that what bounty hunting was like?

Kidnapping and killing for money?

No consideration for those that were bounties?

Your stomach churred at the bitter memory of being in the hands of bounty hunters.

Or maybe it was the caf.

You gripped your cup harder to ground yourself in the moment instead of getting lost in memories you wished you never made.

Instead, you pushed yourself to speak.

“How about instead of approaching this like a bounty hunter would – which the palace would be prepared for,” you carefully interjected, “or like a devoted fan – another expected occurrence for someone so famous like Sy Snootles – approach it like something else?”

A questioning grunt.

Snootles was like you. Maybe a bit more famous or well off. But essentially she was another woman in the galaxy getting caught up in things she wasn’t part of. And being the collateral damage of an inherently unfair powerplay between some powerful men was something you wished on one.

Perhaps you could prevent Snootles from going through what you went through. But only if you found your way to her before Bane.

“I am not a fan and I am not a bounty hunter…”, you continued, ”…but I know enough about Sy Snootles to find her in a crowd. And I am familiar with clubs and bars and know how to get backstage in those establishments. How about I go into the palace? No one would pay attention to another random guest doing business there.”

“Absolutely no. Too dangerous, loth cat,” Bane declared.

“Absolutely delightful. You should go. Good luck, miss. I believe-“TODO cried out at the same time before being silenced by a hiss and one of Bane’s glares.

“Why not?”, you called out while hanging onto your anger to fight the rising dredd again that threatened to break your voice and make you cry. “I am a nobody. I don’t matter to anyone, and no one looks for me.”

“Ya’re not a nobody.”

You stared at Cad, his red eyes fixed on you with a calculating intensity that burned away any insecurity or confusion. This was it. Years of listening to people at the bar whining about their life’s had taught you what to say to them, what they wanted or needed to hear. What Bane needed was an argument he couldn’t ignore.

“Listen Cad,” you paused, knowing exactly what to say now, “Unlike you, I am not a bounty hunter with a reputation. You would walk in there and die. I can walk in there and get Snootles.”

“No.”

“Yes!”

He shook his head, the hat accentuating the movement dramatically.

“How would ‘ya do that? Ask Snootles nicely to tag along?” he rasped.

“I can wield a blaster!”

“Everyone can do that in da Outa Rim. Especially in Gardullas Palace,” the Duros deadpanned.

“Alright,” You challenged, “What is your suggestion? Because last time I checked, you might be better at wielding a blaster but that won’t help you get into a palace full of bounty hunters with a bounty on your head.”

He growled.

“Don’t worry about dat, loth cat. I’ll find a way.”

You rolled your eyes.

What a suborn man.

“Yeah, a way to kill yourself,” you snorted.

Bane fell silent.

For a moment no one spoke. You bit your lip. Had you crossed a line? Anxiety rose in you, reminding you that maybe you had decided to stay. But you weren’t sure how essential Bane considered your presence on this ship.

“Fine,” Bane growled and tore you from your dark spiralling thoughts, “Might hava’ point there, loth cat.”

He sighed as if facing a very unpleasant task.

“How good are ya’ with a blaster?”

Loth cat raised the blaster, aimed, and shot.

One time.

Two.

Three.

The last one was a miss.

Bane hissed, his fangs out.

She was fine with the blaster. Better than Cad Bane had expected from someone who wielded a blaster primarily to throw out unwelcome guests out of the cantina. Loth cat did land hits, making her even better than some self-declared bounty hunters he had met. Still, Bane feared for her. She was bent on getting that damn Snootles popstar herself, arguing and pushing him until he had landed the ship for some shooting practice on some backwater planet. And unfortunately, she had a point. Last time Bane checked, the Hutts had increased the bounty on his head. Jabba really had made his point that the Hutt owned Bane and if he wanted out and loth cat safe, he had to deliver whatever the Hutt wanted. Even something as ridicules as a fucking popstar.

He snarled again at the unpleasant reminder of having to work for free and turned on his heels, leaving loth cat to practice on her own to shoot on this desolate rock.

His mind told him sending her in was a sound strategy. Loth cat was not a fighter. But she was pragmatic and played dirty to get what she wanted. Knowing her, she would likely find a clever way to claw, charm or do a combination of both to make her way into the palace and then kidnap Snootles. But likely wasn’t good enough for Bane’s heart.

He needed certainty of success and he needed her safe.

Agitated, he stalked up the ship.

Anger was boiling in him. Anger and frustration – making the venomous saliva drip from his fangs.

He swallowed it all and took a few breaths.

This wasn’t useful.

Frustrated, he let himself fall onto one of the cargo boxes in the ships hold.

What he needed wasn’t self-pity and curses against the Hoth forsaken, bedeviled by the witches of Dathomir, and eaten by the Sarlaac- Hutts as satisfying it was for now.

He needed a solution.

A knock on the ships frame made him look up.

“Is everything okay?”

Loth cat peaked into the ship at him. Her eyes burned into his skin, filling him with a far more pleasant heat than anger. She crocked her head, revealing her neck. He couldn’t help but stare as she - unsure of the situation and his silence - shuffled slightly, showing him more of her beautiful body under the storage room's harsh light.

“Loth cat got your tongue?”

Her teasing washed down his throat like cool water after a day of wandering a desert planet.

Bane wanted her. He wanted to get up, pull her into his arms and bite into her lovely skin. He wanted to carry her up to the bunk room to never again let anyone ever close enough to her to cause her harm. He hated seeing her practice shooting knowing she would need it. And he hated the thought of having to let her go, pushing him to feel a protectiveness that bordered on possessiveness.

“As if ya’ could steal from me, loth cat,” he rasped instead of saying any of that and got up.

She raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms, waiting for more words from him.

He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say. He could beg her to forget about Snootles or confess what her presence did to him - how small the ship felt since she was there while he tried so hard not to infringe on her, how welcome the pressurized tin can floating in the abyss of space was with her slowly returning laughter, how hot his longing dreams of her were.

He really couldn’t say anything about that, right?

“It’s going to be alright. I can do this and help lifting the bounty off your head,” her words sounded encouraging as if it was he, who needed reassurance or protection.

She looked so sure of herself with her eyes gleaming in newfound hopefulness and his blaster in her little human hands.

“I know ya’ can,”he said, hating himself for meaning it. If there was only something he could do.

XXX

They landed on Nal Hutta not too far away from Gardullas palace. She fumbled nervously with the blaster he had given her. It was his best one. Loth cat had gotten dressed to pass as much for a bounty hunter as possible. With one of his armored wests, she looked passable enough to trick the guards.

With one final sigh you got up from her seat.

“I’m leaving! See you later!” she declared.

He only nodded.

Her steps echoed through the ship and down the ramp before she walked off.

Away from him.

He should do something. Find a way to hide his face and follow her, no matter the personal cost.

This was it.

“TODO!”he rasped, “Keep the comms clear and wait for my orders. I’m heading out.”

“Yes, but master Bane, it is dangerous for you-“

He hissed, “I’m aware.”

The droid stopped talking he got up. Like in trance he moved down to the storage and pulled boxes aside. Finally, he pulled a crate aside. It was dusty and scratched, but intact.

He traced the cracks on the lid before going to the look.

For a moment he stopped, considering how he never had wanted to open that damn box again. Then he lifted his hat and opened the box.

XXX

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