#clone trooper veetch

[eobe]

they're asking for Eo's fan.

Y/N

?

For a moment Eo only stared at the two shaggy clones, feeling after that strange ask a bit surreal standing with them in the flashes of the disco light dressed like this. The Mikkian wasn’t sure if the music had played a joke on her tendrils, or if it was eventually time to sober up a bit. 

„Commander Mayday asks for what?“, she shouted over the noise and tried to reach taller up to the towering bearded clones. So unfair! One time she could wear heels to be not that tiny between all of them anymore and now those rugged divas looked down to her from their own heeled hights!

Their eyes widened a bit and both of them seem to shrink, clearly not used to a Mikkian trying to understand them better with curling tendrils that played a bit nearer to their faces. Hehe! Poor men. Eo laughed „Sorry, guys. Stop mumbling into your beards, you’re allowed to shout at me, troopers!“

The men exchanged a short look, then the right one formed a funnel with his hands to answer and Eo almost lost it as he looked a bit desperate not seeing ears where to shout at. „Your faaan, Commander!“ Then they looked again at her like too big and bearded schoolboys.

„For what does Commander Mayday need my fan?“, she yelled back irritated but also amused, seeing them blushing and eyeing nervously at the too close tendrils. „For some dramatic purpose, Ma’am – I mean… Commader, Sir“, the other one answered and Eo looked right at the very second to him to catch him ripping his eyes up to her face from a clearly lower point. She grinned teethy and one of her tendrils flicked only an inch away from his beard.

She decided to release the sweating men, only helping their Commander with whatever kind of shenanigans, that most likely have something to do with a certain gorgeous Mando leaning at the wall, waiting for her drink.

With a dramatic slap Eo opened the fan, enjoyed how the broad shouldered guys winced like one person and with an elegant twist into her velvet sleeved hand she closed and handed it to them in one move.

„Tell Commander Mayday, that I want this back in exactly this state, troopers. Do you copy?“

Clones in heels jumping in attention is nothing but fun, Eo thought by herself, trying to do a strict face and failing with the need to smirk.

„Sir, yes, Sir!“

@foxwithadarkside 🫶

My Chaos vode💥: @ghostymarni @lonewolflupe @wings-and-beskargam @eclec-tech

[feralferrule]

GAR Goth Night, Choy and Una’s Night Out, part 1

Part 2

Veetch/ force sensitive OC Choy, Tech/Twilek OC Una plus cameos from GGN

Rating: sfw

Word Count <2000

An Elaboration from this

A continuation of this and this

Story and art under the cut

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Vetch and Hexx disappeared into the crowd, blending in with the bodies and lights and haze from the fog machine that had been kicked on. Choy felt a tap on her shoulder.

“Can you ‘elp me with the other big feathers?” Una, her tall Twilek friend, leaned down once again to bring her fontage arrangement within Choy’s reach. “Zey are all loose and annoying.”

“I’ll leave the little ones. How’s that?” Choy secured a couple flowers in the gap left by the feathers which she handed to Una as she stood up.

“Ahh so much better, thank you, Choy.” Una absent mindedly tugged and twirled one of her lekku and looked around at the people around her.

Choy’s eye was caught by a flash of white and the red glow of a small low light camera. There was a group of men of different sizes standing off to the side, one was huge. “Hey let’s go introduce you to Tech! You two should get a picture together at least!”

“Who eez Taeck?”

“Teh-“ Choy emphasized the short vowel, “Tech. Short for technical or technically. He’s one of clone force 99. The Bad Batch. You were staring at him when we got here. The one in white,” Choy explained as they skirted the walls of 79’s rather than cut across the throng. At the back door there was a clone with half white hair smoking a death stick. He took in the sight of them and squinted. Choy arched an eyebrow and pulled on Una’s hand.

“Oh, Tehhhch,” Una practiced. “He eez a clone? He does not look much like one,” she whispered to Choy as they got closer.

Tech was scanning the crowd and pressing a button on the side of his goggles. Wrecker was just behind him and had noticed the Twilek staring. He said something to Tech, who continued to scan the room opposite the girls.

“No, over there, 9 o’clock!” Wrecker grabbed the top of Tech’s head and twisted it to face him towards Una.

Choy snickered at Wrecker’s tactic, “🎵Una, he’s looking at you🎶,” she said letting her voice rise up and down in a singsong, “let’s go do introductions.” Choy pushed her around and forward.

Wrecker and Tech watched as Una approached. Tech swallowed hard. “Hey guys!” Choy cheered up at the tall clones.

“Choy!” Wrecker boomed, scooping her up in a bear hug.

“Aw you brought Lula!” Choy said, “fancy hat you got there big guy.” Wrecker set her back on the floor gently and she straightened her corset

“Aw, well, yeah, yeah it goes with my jacket, but I got too hot, I’m, this place is burning up,” he stammered, pulling on his shirt collar as he watched Choy lean forward a little to reset a boob that was threatening to escape.

She noticed his slack jawed stare. “Sorry, wardrobe malfunction. Anyway- this is Una, she’s my best friend at the temple and we snuck her out for some fun tonight.” Choy said gesturing to Una. Tech, I love the look you went with, you two match! Tech?”

“Yes nice thank you Choy, to see again you. You are lovely to make my acquaintance,” Tech said in a daze to Una. Choy barked a good laugh at Tech. Una giggled, “Zee pleasure is all mine.” She held her hand out for him to shake and he flipped it over to bow and kiss her knuckle. She blushed through her white makeup and brought the feathers up to hide her gasp.

“Would you like to dance?” asked Tech.

“Oh yes but I don’t really know how to like everyone else is,” she said looking around. “This is a bit different than what, what I used to do…” she trailed off.

“That is quite alright. I will instruct you.”

“Oh reallly romantic, professor Tech,” Wrecker laughed, rolling his eyes. Tech glared at him and led Una out onto the dance floor. They shone like a beacon in the lasers and strobe lights. Una copied what he did at first, but quickly picked up on him being supremely goofy. She adjusted her dancing to be more like the girls around her.

“She’s a natural,” Choy laughed.

“Good thing,” Wrecker said, shaking his head at Tech.

“She really derailed him. Where’s the rest of you guys?” Choy asked him.

“They went to get drinks at the bar I think, it’s been a while.” He turned around scanning the bar area. “Uh oh, hahahahaha, looks like Hunter’s making friends,” he pointed down the bar over the heads of the crowd near them. “Oh,” he said noticing Choy craning her neck and hopping on her tip toes. “Here I’ll give you a boost,” he said, encircling her waist in his huge hands and lifting her like she was a little Tooka. The scene of what looked like a tiny, half naked human woman ferociously grappling Hunter who was also mostly naked appeared over the crowd. A bubblegum pink and purple Theelin was trying to pry her off of him. And around on the other side f the bar by the service door were two clones and a keg. One was attaching a tube from the keg to the other man. Wait, Choy squinted, was that- “That’s Crosshair’s girlfriend,” Wrecker said, his head level with hers now, “she don’t like Hunter one bit.”

“Clearly,” Choy laughed as Wrecker set her down, “but I can totally see Crosshair and her together.” She wondered to herself about the clones with the keg. “Have you seen Echo?”

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“Hexx, Veetch, you’re dismissed,” Mayday said as he studied the rose in his hand. His men saluted, looked at eachother and walked away.

“Finally. I’m getting a drink, you going to go find little miss flirt?” Hexx asked, crooking an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Veetch said, “you good for the minute?”

“Go get’er.” He clapped Veetch on the shoulder.

Veetch wandered through the club, head on a swivel. The girls weren’t where he’d seen them before. He backtracked toward the bar and saw the tall Twilek dancing with a tall human guy wearing a fancy white outfit. But poofy black dress girl wasn’t there. He scanned the crowd below their heads for her hair and bows as he kept moving. Bodies bumped and slinked past him as he made his way across the dance floor. Then he saw a really huge soldier with blast scars across his face wearing a top hat. He towered above the people around him even as he bent down to lift up- poofy black dress girl. He held her up to his eye level and they laughed at something by the bar. He’d better get over there- if the giant was making moves on her he’d not have a chance against that guy. Veetch struggled forward as the song ended and several couples all crowded in his way.

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Tech and Una walked over to Choy and Wrecker. “Echo?” Wrecker asked, confused, “He wasn’t with us.”

“You two looked great out there,” Choy smiled at her friend and Tech.

“Yeah. Una looked great,” Wrecker laughed.

“You should get a picture together,” Choy said as Tech shot Wrecker another glare. “There’s a holo booth right over there,” Choy pointed at a curtained box nearby. There were two pairs of feet visible below the curtain.

Una and Tech glanced at each other. Tech tipped his head that way and gave her a small smile.

“I have some credits, my treat,” Choy said as she walked over with them. The couple inside exited, laughing at their strip of flimsy. Tech held the curtain open for Una and helped her protect her fontage as they folded their tall frames inside the booth. Choy fished a credit out of her bra and looked up to see a familiar, bearded face watching as she pulled it free from her cleavage. Veetch, she remembered, noting his slack jawed gawking.

“We are ready, Choy,” Tech said inside the booth.

“Alright,” Choy said, locking eyes with Veetch and slipping the credit in the booth’s pay slot. She slid her hand down the side of the booth as Veetch held one hand out to her, his other behind his back.

“Would you still like to dance with me, er…”

“Choy, short for Echoy’la,” she said, taking his hand. His expression showed some surprise and concern and he asked, “Are you Mandalorian? That’s a Mandalorian word.”

“No, your brothers named me and it just stuck I guess.”

“Well I hope you aren’t lost or sad anymore,” he said, bringing his other hand to cover hers. She glanced at it and noticed three of his fingers were shortened, missing the tips and scarred. He quickly withdrew that hand and looked a little hesitant hoping she wasn’t disgusted by his injury.

She stepped into his space more and smiled reassuringly at him, “I’m happy right now.” She found his scarred hand with her free one and grasped it, holding his hands down and to the sides as she inched closer. She could feel the expected mix of emotions off of him as well as something else. Looking at each of his eyes in turn and down his nose to his mouth she asked, “How about that dance, trooper?” Gratitude. It was gratitude to something big.

He let out the breath he’d been holding and moved back pulling her forward towards the dance floor. “Yeah let’s dance,” he grinned through his whiskers. She noticed a discolored darker patch on one of his cheeks. He led her out to a space in the throng of dancing bodies and turned around. Choy was already bouncing to the beat and shimmied right up into his space. She had noticed his boots had some impressive spikes which she stayed mindful of. He kept a modest distance facing her, only reaching for her waist as he noticed more single troopers start circling and angling themselves to cut in. As he put a hand on her waist the music faded and a bell-like tone sounded out cueing a slow and romantic song. Veetch looked up from his hand and at her face to gauge her willingness to slow dance with him.

Choy had felt the attention of several men around her. She subtly angled herself away from each in turn and drew closer to Veetch feeling a flash of possessiveness from him. He put his hand on her waist and, as she placed her hands on his shoulders, the song ended. Several couples and all the single guys except for one left the dance floor as tones rang out resonating with etheric and melancholic lilted vocals. She felt him hesitate and his body language offered to leave the dance floor. She circled her hands around the back of his neck and looked up at him through her lashes.

He softened his gaze on her and brought his other hand to her waist, pulling her closer. As close as the stiff crinoline petticoat would allow. He swayed her around a little, turning in a slow circle. She noticed the solo clone out in the middle of the dance floor moving in exaggerated sensual movements with a fan in his hand. He was absolutely in his element she felt. It made her smile.

She felt Veetch’s hands explore the curve of her back, her waist and slide down till they hit the flare of the skirt’s stiff structure. Deflected from her hips, his hands roamed and caressed back up. His thumbs followed the corset’s boning up to the cups of her breasts. He hesitated there and curled his fingers into her back. He stared at her like she'd vanish and he’d never see her again. She slid her hands from around his shoulders and down to his strong chest. She could feel his heart beating and a pull of want, a craving for more warmth from her, and a tiny flicker of dread of this ending and coldness.

She decided to indulge him and pushed her hands under his cowl, finding the bare skin of his shoulders. Veetch squeezed her more, his thumb testing the plush give of the curve of her breast. Focusing energy through her hands she willed it to infuse Veetch with a deep comfort and heat. Veetch’s eyes widened as he felt this change inside him and saw a glow around Choy. He paused his hands, he was confused as to where to take this. “Are you-“ he began to ask then looked past her.

Choy felt a presence close behind her. “Mind if I cut in,” a voice almost growled.

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[corellianhounds]

WIP Wednesday

The “Act II” of Call Sign was listed in my outline as the fun and games section of the story, the troopers of the outpost getting to know the pilot who’s forced to stay there until she or they can make arrangements to get her back down the mountain.

The story was always supposed to be funny, and even though it’s about the growing attraction between Mayday and the pilot, the story is also a survival adventure and the pilot spends as much time working with and getting to know the other men on Mayday’s squad.

“If you want a real challenge, play jhabacc with Barak,” Hollis said. “He’s the only clone in the entire GAR with more than fifty credits to his name.”

“He conned Grimau out of four weeks worth of rent once— that’s Coruscant rent— and was promptly beaten to hell and back when he tried to leave with it.”

Barak seemed nonplussed, lacing his hands behind his head and kicking his feet up on a crate, as if the experience Veetch had referenced was barely an inconvenience. “It’s not a con if you win it legitimately. Grimau was just mad that I won despite his cheating.”

“How much does Veetch theoretically owe you now?”

“Ohhh somewhere in the realm of 21,000 credits.”

“Don’t worry, Captain,” Veetch drawled with a smile. “I’ve got three years’ back pay waiting for me back on Coruscant, I’m sure.”

[tangents-within-tangents]

I see your ‘Tech’s alive bc the show knows how to explicitly confirm deaths and gave us multiple on screen examples of that’ and raise you one ‘Tech’s death wasn’t meaningless, insignificant, or just for stakes and shock value bc the show gave us multiple on screen examples of what that actually looks like’

[merlincmgirl]

Title Kink - Commander Mayday x FReader - NSFW

Summary: Your trooper likes hearing you call him Commander, even though you seem unable to remember to say it when speaking with him.

Characters: Commander Mayday

Pairing: Commander Mayday x F!Reader

Word Count: 11,256

Warnings: fingering, oral (female receiving), wall sex, PinV sex, title kink, pushing and pulling in terms of their relationship, trying to wind each other up. pre-established relationship

Author's Note: I'm sorry this is so late. I've had some terrible news that has really shaken me, and I've got an awful ear ache that doesn't seem to want to go away. So I'll still be writing the rest of the kinktober stories, it's just that they will be severely behind schedule.

New Recruit inbound. Prepare for arrival.

The words were one of the few communications that Mayday had received off the Empire. He sincerely hoped it was more than just one recruit after all of his requests for reinforcements and supplies.

As always when dealing with the Empire, he was severely disappointed when the transport had landed and a young woman stepped off, two crates being turbo-lifted behind you. This was not what he had expecting. Sure he hadn’t expected much, but a civvie, and two boxes of supplies? It was worse than what he had prepared himself for.

Taking a look at the civvie that the Empire had sent, he hoped you were the officer in charge and that there would be someone coming down behind you. Glancing aboard the craft, he realised that he would have no such luck. You were smaller than him, already wrapped up from the biting winds and freezing temperatures. Well at least he wouldn’t have to dig out some winter gear out for you. Your face was obscured by a heavy scarf and goggles as you walked towards him.

“Commander Mayday?” you asked, voice tentative and unsure.

“Yep, I suppose you’re my new recruit” Mayday remarked, looking you over. He wondered how he would keep you alive from the raiders and the awful conditions on the base.

“That’s right, I’m-” you started but he held up a hand.

“I know who you are. I take it those are my supplies that I requested 3 months ago” he stated, glancing at the crates. He hoped that they had at least brought caf. God knows the men needed it to keep awake during these gruelling nights.

“They are, I’m sorry that there’s not more. Apparently, these were the only ones the Empire desired to send to you” you replied, shivering as the cool blast of air made it’s way through the base.

Mayday grunted, not surprised in the least. “Come on, I’ll give you the tour. The droids can bring the supplies in” Mayday instructed, turning around and heading back into the base. At least it was marginally warmer than outside, not much, but enough that he could start to defrost a little.

As you followed after him, two other clone troopers came out one of the side rooms, blasters in hand. You were actually surprised that there wasn’t more of them.

“Oh good, I wondered if you’d left yet. This is our new recruit” he introduced, giving them your name, before turning back to them. “This is Hexx and Veetch, the remainder of my men here on Barton 4” Mayday told you.

There was only 3 clones here on the planet, manning the depot? Where was everyone else? Surely the Empire had sent a whole squadron. Trying to school your face into pleasant neutrality, you sent the troopers a small wave.

“Keep a lookout, it’s been too quiet around here lately” Mayday ordered, clapping both troopers on the shoulders before continuing on. “This way civvie!” he called, and you hurried after him, muttering a ‘nice to meet you’ at Veetch and Hexx as you breezed past them.

As Mayday led you round the base, pointing out your quarters, the tiny mess hall, the cargo hold where all the Empire’s precious supplies were kept, you couldn’t help but wonder where the Empire had sent you to. It seemed this little depot was located in the back of beyond, the ass-crack of nowhere. What had happened to the rest of the clones under Mayday?

“So, what got you stuck on this ice-ball of a planet?” Mayday wondered, leading you further into the base.

“I found some things that I shouldn’t have and started asking questions. Turns out the Empire doesn’t like that, so I’ve been sent here as punishment” you explained, taking in how cold and bare everything was. It was just miserable, you didn’t know how the clones could have kept going for this long. “And this is worse than I had expected. Guess I really pissed them off” you mumbled, rubbing your gloved hands up and down your arms. Even through your winter coat, you still felt frozen.

Mayday snorted, turning to glance at you. “Yeah, kid. Seems like you weren’t the only one. What did you find out?” he asked, waiting for you to catch up with his large strides.

“I was an engineer for the GAR before… anyway, I was just looking through some old documents and found an order requisition for some Venators. Nothing too worrying, right? But they were ordered years before the Clone Wars started, and then I started asking why. Someone must have noticed and I quickly got a court martial and banished from Coruscant. Now I’m here, on a planet that’s colder than Hoth’s” you revealed, as he led you to the communication room.

“It’s not the first time I’ve heard something like that. So are you a rebel then? Heard they’ve been recruiting people to fight against the Empire” he inquired, eyes running up and down you. You didn’t look particularly threatening, but it was best to be prepared.

“No!” you snorted, shaking your head. “I was just a normal person trying to get by when I found the requisition forms. I’m more curious than rebellious. Don’t worry, Mayday, I won’t be causing you any rebellions or mutinies while I’m stuck here” you smirked, amused at his question. Did he really think you were a spy or something? You were an engineer, you had no idea about any rebellions or how to get in contact with then. Actually, you probably should have, or at least leaked the documentation to the public. Even if it probably would have meant your death. But at least you were still alive, stuck on this frozen planet helping to guard some Imperial supplies.

Mayday stopped, shoulders squaring as he turned to face you fully. “It’s Commander. I understand you’ve been through an ordeal, but this is still a military facility. I expect you to respect that and me, is that clear?” he said, voice firm and steady.

Blinking up at him, you nodded. That certainly wasn’t what you were expecting when you had met Mayday. He seemed very relaxed and calm for a Commander. His stern gaze and deep voice caused butterflies to erupt in your stomach at the casual way he took control of the conversation. You hoped it wouldn’t be like that every time he spoke to you.

Sure, the clones were all handsome and pretty, but Mayday especially looked very rugged and handsome. His long hair and unkept beard had you wondering just how it would feel against the sensitive skin of your neck or between the softness of your thighs. Kriff! You couldn’t be having these thoughts, what if he could tell what you were thinking? Looking up at him, you noticed he hadn’t moved when you answered him.

Mayday raised an eyebrow at you, wanting more from you.

“Yes, Commander” you murmured, feeling your body tingle at that word. Oh no! You wouldn’t be using that word if every time it caused this sort of reaction.

“Good, come on civvie, let’s show you the control room. It’s how you’ll keep an eye on the defences across the sectors. We’ve needed a good engineer around here for a while, so be prepared to be kept on your toes, civvie!” he warned you, lips quirking to send you an amused look. There would be no shortage of hard work around the base. Everything was broken or nearly broken. He hoped you were ready for the challenge.

From that day forward, you had been kept on your toes, just like the rest of the clones. Your early starts would consist of you having some form of breakfast before heading out to monitor the controls and the security system. Every day at least one of the fences broke down or malfunctioned. So everyday you had to repair them as best as you could. There was very little supplies that you could use to help improve the security of the base, so you tended to use whatever was lying around to help you fix things. You’d even asked Mayday if you could take some panels of the walls to help insulate some of the wiring you had used in Sector 1.

While the work was hard, you still because firm friends with Hexx and Veetch, enjoying their witty humour and the way they tried to brighten your day. Your friendship with Mayday had also developed, and most days you enjoyed teasing and poking at him. He didn’t seem to mind, taking it in his stride and giving as good as he got. Sometimes, after coming back from patrol, you made him some hot caf, pressing it into his hands and assuring him he was doing a good job.

And Mayday enjoys all of this, every word and caring gesture that you bestow on him or his brothers. He could see how caring and kind you would have been back on Coruscant, how you would have looked after your family and friends, been the person they needed you to be. You bring so much life to this isolated planet, that it’s like a breath of fresh air, for a moment he could almost forget how lonely and miserable it had been as his men, his brothers, dwindled down to 2.

But there was one thing that surely got on his nerves. Your inability to call him by his rank. Every time you opened your mouth to talk to him or show him a report, it was always Mayday. No matter how many times he corrected you or set you extra tasks to do as punishment, you always called him by his chosen name, rather than his rank.

Honestly, if any of his brothers had tried this little bout of insubordination, then he would have had them running laps around the base. A sure fine way to keeping warm. And although his brothers were too well trained to forget such things like rank, he knew he let you off a lot lighter than he would any of them.

“Mayday” you called, holding the datapad that you had to give him tightly in your hand.

From where you were standing, you saw his back stiffen and straighten up. Hexx seemed just as confused as he cocked his helmeted head at you before looking at his Commander.

“Mayday, I have the report you wanted about the defences on Sector 3. They seem to be holding out most of the time, but in the last month, they’ve been a bit spotty. Working only 81% of the time” you reported to him, handing him the datapad.

Even though he was wearing his bucket, you knew that you were riling him up. As he gripped the datapad firmly, his movements stiff and precise as he took it off you, the thought of his face scrunched up into an annoyed scowl had you amused. Flashing a grin and a nod at both of them, you spun around and headed back to your position.

“Sir?” Hexx asked, looking between his Commander and the civvie who was walking away from them.

“It’s a civvie thing, I’ll handle it later” Mayday excused, shaking his head. “We were talking about the droid maintenance” he prompted his vod, half listening to the conversation, the other half planning on how he would get you back.

As you were busy with fixing and insulating a few wires in the cargo hold, a heavily armoured body plopped down beside you. Ignoring them for now, you tried to join the two broken pieces together, but you yelped as a sharp zap landed on your fingertips.

A muffled laugh came from beside you, and you turned to glare at Mayday. “What do you want?” you demanded, sucking your fingertips in the hopes of getting rid of the pain.

“That’s one way to stay warm I suppose” he remarked, tugging off his bucket and placing it beside him. He took your hand in his, examining the burnt patches of skin on your fingers. “You realise you’ll be loosing feeling in your fingers if you keep getting zapped all the time” he remarked, placing your cold fingers on his armour.

It was immediately soothing, and you grumbled because you didn’t want him to think he had won. But it did feel nice to have your fingers cooled by his armour and it was helping with the pain. “Hazard of the job, I’m afraid” you murmured, shrugging slightly as you looked back at the wires. Maybe if you could solder them together, they would still work. But you had to get this fixed, otherwise the sensors would never work again.

“Can I borrow your gloves?” you requested, looking back at him.

Mayday shot you a surprised look, dropping your hand against his armour. “What? Just so you can burn holes into them? We don’t get supply requisitions for armour and stuff you know” he drawled, but was still stripping off his gloves to pass them to you.

“Thanks, I just need them so I can reconnect these wires. And I’m not going to burn them!” you mumbled, slipping them onto your hands. They were a lot bigger than you had expected, and you tugged them up as far as you could go. But there were still too big and they flopped around your fingers. Oh well, they would have to do.

Mayday hid his snort behind his hand as he watched how adorable you looked in his gloves. Carefully keeping an eye on you in case you got hurt again, he relaxed back into the wall behind him. He liked watching you work, the way your attention zeroed in on the problem. The cute little way your brow scrunched up when something didn’t go right or you had to think of another quick fix. A few strands of your hair was hanging into your face, falling loose from the bun you had shoved your hair into. It softened your features, even if you were concentrating on reconnecting the wires.

“Pass me that tool next to your knee, will you?”

Mayday blinked, looking around him at the array of tools laying by him. He picked the closest one to his knee up and handed it to you.

As you brought it up to the wires, you couldn’t help but scowl and thrust it back into his chest. “No, not that one, May! Your other knee!” you snapped, holding your hand out ready.

He huffed, as he always did when you called him by his name instead of rank. Looking down, he did see a tool under his leg, covered by his armour plate. “Not my fault I couldn’t feel it under all this armour” he retorted, passing it over to you.

“Yeah, bloody things are massive. I don’t know how you can carry all that around with you” you said, glancing at him briefly before returning back to your work.

“Discipline. Something you’ve never heard of” he remarked dryly, shaking his head. You wouldn’t have lasted 5 minutes in ARC training.

Snorting, you couldn’t help but agree. Although you had been part of the GAR, discipline had never really been your thing. You were more into the freedom of making your own choices. A luxury you knew you had, especially when compared to the clones. They had little choice to fight in the war, and even less of a choice with the Empire. It was no wonder that Mayday clung to discipline and respect, when it was all that he knew during his time in the GAR. It probably gave him a lost of comfort.

“So, you didn’t answer my question. What has you annoying me while I’m trying to work?” you said, biting your lip as you used the tool in your hand to connect the wires together.

“As much as I enjoy your company, I need you to head to the sensors on the Eastern side. Something isn’t working right, the readings are going haywire. I’ll send Veetch with you to keep an eye out while you work” Mayday instructed, bringing up a map of the compound and pointing out which sensor was playing up.

Sighing heavily, you couldn’t help but agree to go. “Fine, it’ll probably be a fuse. I’ll head out as soon as I finish this” you grumbled, dreading going out there again. You’d fixed one just this morning and had only just gotten some semblance of warmth back into you. God you hated this planet.

Mayday grunted as he pushed himself up, patting your knee on the way. “Good girl!” he murmured, voice low and tired as he ran a hand through his long hair, “I’ll have Veetch meet you outside.”

Instantly heat rushed through your body and you blinked in surprise at your reaction to his words. They curled around your body like heated wisps, skimming over your arms, your middle and down your legs. The apex of your thighs felt damp and you shook yourself at the thought of him calling you that in very different circumstances.

“MAYDAY!” you screamed, rushing through the compound as you clutched the datapad in your hand. Hexx who was at the other end of the corridor jumped, hands briefly reaching for a blaster before he noticed it was you.

“Everything alright, vod’ika?” he asked, eyes widening at the fury that was written all over your face.

“Where is that complete di’kut that you call Commander?” you demanded, crossing your arms over your chest as you came to a halt in front of him. Anger curled in your stomach at the message you had received off the Empire. Another 6 months on this planet before there was to be any more communication from them. How could this be right? How could you and the clones just be left here on this ice ball with sub-standard supplies and raiders picking you off one by one? How had Mayday just taken all of these orders and been okay with them?

“Technically you should be calling him Commander too” Hexx reminded, shaking his head as he picked up his own datapad to check the diagnostics on the droid.

“Now is not the time, Hexx!” you growled, fist tightening around the datapad and feeling your jaw tighten even more. You’d get a serious jaw ache later but you couldn’t help it, you felt furious at the Empire.

“Fine, fine” he huffed, before nodding his head to the way behind him. “Last time I saw him, he was getting some caf from the mess hall” Hexx informed you, knowing that there would no doubt be an argument about whatever it is that had gotten you so worked up. Best if he and Veetch was to avoid the area for a while.

“Thank you, Hexx” you murmured, following the long corridor down to the mess hall where you hoped you would find Mayday.

Storming in, you pushed the door open so strongly that it bounced off the wall and nearly hit you in the face as it swung back. However, you were too angry to care as you spotted Mayday sitting along at one of the tables, a cup of steaming caf in his hand. From where you were, you could see him let out a heavy sigh and look into the dark contents of his cup.

“Have you seen the latest communication from the Empire?” you demanded, slamming the datapad down on the table in front of him. The metal rattled slightly with the force but you both ignored it.

“I have.”

“How can you be so calm about this? They’re leaving us for another 6 months, Mayday! Another 6 months where we’re fighting on our own, raiders trying to kill us and for what? Some supplies that we’re not even meant to know about?” you snarled, leaning over the table in front of him, staring into his dark, chocolate eyes.

There was silence between you for a moment, only the soft humming of the caf machine and the preservator being heard in the charged silence.

“Mayday! Say something!” you begged, unable to take how quiet the room was and how he just stared at you. His eyes looked sad, betraying his emotionless face.

“What do you want me to say?” he sighed, taking a sip of his caf and refusing to look away from you.

“I-I don’t know! But do something, say something! This is ridiculous! We’re going to die here, Mayday. The Empire doesn’t give a shit about us. Be angry! Be furious and ready to fight for your men!” you shouted, banging your hand down on the table.

His eyes sharpened on you and his face pulled into a displeased scowl at your words. He stared you down, letting you take in your own words. He knew the moment you recognised what you had said, because your eyes widened in shock and your mouth fell open to apologise but he beat you to it.

“I have fought for my men every single day we’ve been left on this rock! I am trying to protect the ones that are still alive” Mayday reminded sharply, straightening his back and shoulders. “You’re not the only one who is angry, but I don’t have the freedom to choose to scream and shout because I don’t agree with the orders which I’m given” Mayday rebuked, before sliding the datapad back over to you.

“I’m sorry Mayday, I know you’re just looking after Hexx and Veetch while following orders, it’s just… why are we doing this? What’s in those crates? Maybe we should take a look, they might have things that could help” you apologised, sitting down in front of him and taking back your datapad as you made your suggestion.

Mayday growled out your name in warning.

“Maybe I should have gone to the rebels” you muttered, running a hand through your hair.

“I thought you were more curious than rebellious” Mayday stated, his warm hand reaching out to lay it over yours. Your fingers entwined and he gave them a gentle squeeze.

“Hmm, guess I lied Mayday. I am a little rebellious” you grinned, enjoying the feel of his warm, calloused hand surrounding your small one and giving you comfort. “Maybe I should start a mutiny, you know, that way the Empire would have to come to get us” you teased, eyes almost closing at the feel of his thumb stroking soothing sweeps into your hand.

Mayday let out a long suffering sigh and shook his head. “I will lock you in your room if I have to!” he warned, lips twitching into a smile behind his beard.

“I’m teasing Mayday, you need to loosen up” you suggested, resting your other hand over the back of his, entrapping his hand in between yours.

“Commander!” he corrected, shaking his head as another conversation had been had without you respecting his title once more.

“Whatever. Either way, you need to relax a little” you teased, pulling away so he could grab onto his cup of caf. It would soon go cold in this weather.

“I don’t think I’ll be getting any time to relax with you near” he remarked, eyes lighting up at the way you laughed at his words. “Now go, I want to enjoy my caf in peace” Mayday ordered, nodding back to the door you came in.

“Alright, I’m going, I’m going” you assured, sending him a soft smile before heading back out to attend to your own duties.

The thought about what was in those crates didn’t leave your head. What was so important that you and your clones had to risk dying for? So the next night, you checked to see who was on watch, noticing Hexx has scheduled to be in the control room keeping an eye on things.

Sneaking through the corridors at night was not something you would recommend. What little heat you had during the day was gone. The ice ball was well below freezing on a night, and the walk to the cargo hold felt like you were walking barefoot in the snow. You were wrapped up warm, and you moved as quietly and as carefully as you could, not wanting to risk waking anyone up or setting off the alarms.

You managed to get into the hold without the alarms going off as you punched in your code, glad that it was working even on a night cycle. There was a number of crates stacked around the room, and you managed to lift one off and set it down on the floor. Whatever was in the boxes were obviously important to the Empire, perhaps you could find a way to hold them to ransom until you could get off this horrible planet.

It was a fools dream, no doubt you’d be put out of commission as soon as you tried it. But your curious nature wouldn’t be sated until you found out what exactly you were guarding. Kneeling down in front of the box, you typed in the opening sequence to get the boxes unlocked. The seal hissed out and you grinned, ready to finally see what was inside.

Just as it lifted away so you could open the lid, a hand slammed down on the top, sealing it shut once more.

Gasping, you looked up into the hard, stormy eyes of Mayday. He was leaning over the box, keeping it closed while glaring down at you. He must have been waiting in the shadows when you first came in, not expecting to see anybody inside. Mayday must have known that you would try something like this, knew you wouldn’t be able to help yourself and have to have a look.

“Mayday… I can, I can explain!” you stuttered, mind going empty at the way he was looking at you sternly. The dark gaze was pinning you to the floor, and you couldn’t help but want to never move again at the way he had you in his cross hairs.

“You need a very good explanation for this, sweetheart” he growled, looking away from you only long enough to lift the box up and put it away. He made it look so effortless, like it weighed nothing.

“I do, I do! I promise, Mayday – I just” you stammered, trying to think of words that would help your case.

“Commander” Mayday automatically corrected, interrupting your thoughts.

“I just want to see what was in there. I thought it could help us, maybe fight against the raiders or make being here a bit more comfortable” you explained, biting your lip as he stared at you, still not convinced or impressed that he had caught you sneaking around and disobeying his orders.

“We have our orders, and we’ll follow them until the mission is completed. I know I told you to stay away from these supplies, but you disobeyed me. You disregarded everything I said to you” he said, voice as hard and as cold as the ice outside. He reached down to pull you up, his grip tight on your bicep as you straightened up in front of him.

“I know, I’m sorry Mayday” you murmured, ducking your head and feeling embarrassed at being caught.

“It’s Commander, and no you’re not” Mayday rebuked sharply, making you gasp and want to hide from his gaze. Sighing heavily, he shook his head and looked down at you. “I’m revoking your access to this room unless either me or one of the boys are with you. You’re going straight to your quarters and you won’t leave until I collect you tomorrow morning. Is that clear?” he ordered, bringing your chin up with one finger underneath it so you looked into his eyes.

“Yes” you mumbled, heart feeling heavy at the way that your plan didn’t go quite as you hoped it would. And to top it all off, Mayday was furious with you. He was practically confining you to your quarters until he was ready to talk to you. It made you feel like a child again, sent to your room once you had been naughty.

“Yes, what?” he demanded, stepping closer to you.

“Yes Commander” you grumbled out, trying to keep the annoyance out of your voice. From his look, it didn’t really work but he let you go, directing you out of the cargo hold.

Mayday pressed against your back, you could feel the heat through your warm clothes. It was soothing as well as dis-concerting, reminding you that he was practically marching you to bed. A hand was sprawled across your back, guiding you along as he kept totally silent. It was making you feel worse about the situation. You hadn’t meant to upset Mayday at all, but now he was disappointed in you, a fate worse than death.

As you reached the door, he stood in front of you with crossed arms, looking down at you with a stern expression. “Now stay in here until I pick you up tomorrow morning. We are having a serious discussion about what is appropriate and inappropriate behaviour in this compound. I’m very disappointed in you, civvie” he sighed.

Somehow that made you feel even worse but you knew you had crossed the line. You wouldn’t be surprised if he just threw you out and let you fend for yourself in the savage environment beyond the base. Or told the Empire that you were another one of the losses that had struck the base.

Reaching out for his hand, you gave a heavy sigh and squeezed it slightly. “I’m really sorry, Mayday” you apologised, wanting, no – needing him to believe you.

“I know, we’ll talk more in the morning. Get some rest” Mayday grumbled, thumb stroking your hand before he pulled away. He watched you head into your quarters and the door shut behind you. With a heavy sigh, he returned to his own quarters, wondering what he was going to do with you?

The next morning, you woke up with a plan. A plan to solve everything between you and Mayday and hopefully lessen whatever punishment that was heading your way. You would run a few diagnostics on the equipment, then head to the mess and make him a caf, ready for him to start his day. That way he wouldn’t have to worry about getting one himself and his morning could be a little quieter. So, as you crept out of your room, you decided that was what you were going to do.

There was a storm raging outside, the wind was howling outside and the depot was colder than the core of Hoth. It was the worst storm you had ever seen. Even the raiders weren’t going to brave the weather to come out and attack the depot. You were walking to the control room to start your plan when suddenly you were grabbed and pulled into a room just off the hall.

Yelping, you kicked behind you, hearing a pained grunt from behind you and the hand on your arm let you go. Spinning around, you raised your fist, ready to attack whoever had grabbed you but you faltered when you met the annoyed look of the handsome Commander.

“Fancy seeing you here” he remarked, crossing his arms as he gave you a hard stare.

“I was just going to check on the systems and then I was going to bring you some caf. I promise, I wasn’t doing anything wrong” you explained, straightening your jacket as you met his eyes.

Mayday hummed, looking you over before seemingly deciding what was going to happen to you. “I wanted this conversation in the comfort of my office, but it seems I should be used to you messing up my plans. So we’ll do this here” Mayday drawled, leaning against the wall as he took you in.

“We can always go to your office” you suggested, taking a seat on the table. It would be a lot more comfortable than this conference room that was for sure.

“No, no” he denied, stepping closer to you.

Your heart began to race at the look he was shooting you, eyes never leaving yours as you felt trapped under his gaze. Swallowing slightly, you nodded, preparing yourself for this talk. You had never been locked in a room with Mayday like this, never with such a heavy presence between you. It was making it a little hard to think as he continued to stare at you. Biting back your nerves and the butterflies starting to flutter in your stomach, you took the plunge and broke the silence.

“Look Mayday, I really am sorry for what happened last night. I guess I just wanted to know what this was all for” you started, trying to put your thoughts into words. “I hoped that there was something in those boxes that we could use for ourselves. I mean, depending on what they were, we could have just put them back. I just wanted to help us” you admitted, shaking your head. You had been so close, it was still possible that whatever was in those crates could help you for the extra 6 months you were forced to stay here.

He hummed, brow furrowed as he stepped closer, your knees practically touching his thighs. “But you went against my orders” he reminded, raising a dark, thick eyebrow at you. His hands landed on his hips, really giving him the look of a disappointed parent, ready to rebuke you.

“I know, and it was wrong, and I’ll never do it again” you assured, grimacing at the scoff that had Mayday rolling his eyes. “But don’t you wonder about what could be so important that they station you out here but haven’t returned for the supplies? What are they hiding?” you shook your head, thoughts beginning to whir at all the possibilities that could be in the crates.

“I wonder why you have such a problem with those in authority” Mayday retorted, cutting through your thoughts and making you stare at him.

“What? I don’t have a problem with authority!” you gasped, shaking your head in confusion. Had he hit his head against something? Was he suffering from hypothermia?

You had never had a problem with authority, normally getting on quite well with them. The only problem you had was that you were curious. And that sometimes got you into trouble. But you weren’t rebellious or anything like that, you just wanted to know the reason why? What? How? When? Since when had it been such a problem asking questions.

“Oh, I think you do cyare” he chuckled, stepping closer to you and spreading your legs wider to fit his frame.

You swallowed against the lump in your throat, mouth suddenly gone awfully dry, eyes blinking up at him as your hands clenched into fists at your sides. Mayday was so close, and his body had forced your legs wider than you had expected. Heat was flaring through you and you tried hard to focus on him and what he was saying.

“I think you’ve got a real problem” he murmured, voice dropping to a low husk. His fingers caught your chin, tilting your head up to look at him in the eye. “You have an inability to listen, to follow instructions. You’re rude and disrespectful to me-” he listed.

“Mayday!”

“Ah!” he clicked his tongue and shook his head at your interruption, fingers briefly tightening on your chin slightly before he let you go. “You refuse to call me by my rank. It’s Commander, my men seem more than capable of remembering that, but you seem to forget after every correction” he pointed out.

Oh, you didn’t think he would notice that. The very visceral reaction you got from calling him Commander left you feeling all hot and bothered. You couldn’t go around acting like that when you had a job to do, so Mayday was the only thing you could call him.

His hands ran up your thighs, stopping briefly at the small hitch of your breath. He waited for you to nod, to give him permission to carry on touching you.

With a shaky nod, you watched as his eyes darkened even further as his hands slid up higher to play with the waistband of your leggings. You bit your lip as you felt his gloved fingers dip underneath the material.

“So cyare, I think you do have a problem with authority. Especially my authority” he breathed, dipping his head down so that his lips were hovering over yours.

Unable to help it, your lips twitched into a smirk as you pressed yourself against his armoured front. “What are you going to do about it, Commander?” you teased, your hand coming to slide it up the arm that he was caging you in with. Wrapping your arm around his shoulder, you thread your fingers through his long strands and gave him a playful smirk.

The way his rank fell from your lips sounded mocking, even when he was pressed against you. Oh, he would show you! It seemed you needed a little help to remember to be respectful to your superior officers.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he chuckled, flashing you a toothy smile that had you breathless. It made him look younger and so much happier than his usual stressed self. “Let me show you” he growled, hand gripping your jacket tightly before he pulled you away from the table, twisting you around and pushing you into the wall behind him.

Although the push wasn’t rough by any means, your breath left you as you stared at Mayday in a mix of arousal and surprise. The casual way he had moved you, the way he was pressing you against the wall, his thick, large body covering you and the eager look in his eyes had you breathless. You blinked up at him, a small smile beginning to form on your face.

However, Mayday wasted no time, finally pressing his lips to yours. He had wanted to do this for so long. Every time you had called him by his name, it had driven him slightly more mad. Every interaction with you kept him on his toes, he had taken to having his downtime with you. It would be a lie to say he had never imagined shutting you up like this, with his lips pressed to yours, swallowing your small noises after refusing to call him by his title.

With a flick of his tongue against the seam of your mouth, you felt your face heat up more as you parted your lips for him. As you tasted the caf on his tongue, you pushed yourself against him, hands securing around his neck to make sure he didn’t move away from you.

When you pulled away, you felt like your heart was in your throat, even if there was an echoing thrum between your legs. “Mayday” you breathed, taking in his slightly parted lips and flushed cheeks.

He leaned forward, nipping at your bottom lip before pulling away. “Commander” he corrected once more.

“What are we doing?” you gasped, as one of his armoured thighs slid in between your legs. It wasn’t pressing against you yet, but you could just imagine how his thigh armour would feel against you.

“Whatever you’re comfortable with, sweetheart” he assured, hands sliding to your waist to steady you against him.

He was leaving this down to you. You knew that if you decided then and there that you didn’t want to pursue this, then Mayday would take a step back and let things go back to normal. But you weren’t sure you wanted that. You’d have to be blind, deaf and dumb to not realise how handsome and pretty Mayday was. Throughout your time on base, he had become your closest friend. He always looked out for you, made you laugh when you were down, joined in on your teasing of his brothers. Whenever you had felt lost and alone, he had always been there to comfort you and cheer you up. Mayday may get on your nerves and you were sure you frustrated him, but you couldn’t deny that you wanted him, and it looked like he returned those feelings.

“Yeah… yeah I’m good with this” you nodded, tugging him down to you so you could kiss him once more. He chuckled against your lips, but you didn’t mind, especially when his hands tightened their grip on your hips.

Pulling away, he spread kisses from the corner of your lips, across your cheeks and your jaw before working his way down to your neck. “Good girl” he growled, voice unable to hide just how happy he was to have you here against him. Pressing kisses and nips along your throat, he couldn’t help but let out a groan. “Because you’re not leaving here until you remember to call me Commander” he warned, hands skimming down your sides.

Letting out a soft moan, you tilted your head to the side, letting him have more room to suck dark bruises and marks along your neck. That sounded wonderful. You didn’t expect to leave the conference room anytime soon then.

You ran your fingers through his long dark curls, twisting your hands into his hair as his lips ventured along the hollow of your neck before sinking lower, as he pushed your jacket to the side, exposing more of you to his attentive mouth.

“Can I take this off?” he asked, nose skimming up your throat before pulling away to tug on the zip of your jacket.

“Yes, you can Mayday. In fact, I want it gone” you chuckled, pulling down the zip yourself. The warmth pressed against you however, pulled away, leaving you cold and wanting.

Frowning, you looked up at Mayday, confused at why he had moved away from you.

“Yes, what?” he prompted you, sounding just like he had last night.

Gaping at him, you took a shaky breath in, feeling the way your core pulsed at the thought of what you were going to call him.

“Yes, Commander” you breathed, about to step forward to follow him but he quickly slotted your lips together once more, pinning you back against the wall.

He gasped, pulling away from your mouth just far enough that he could bite into his glove and tug it off. He threw it somewhere behind him, the other one following seconds later. Eyes meeting yours once more, he cupped your face and brought you into another kiss, swallowing all your moans and soft whimpers as he continued to plunder your mouth.

Strong, warm hands slid inside your jacket, pushing it off your shoulders and letting it slide to the floor. As soon as the garment was off, Mayday curiously slipped his hands underneath the hem of your shirt. You gasped, shivering slightly at the feel of his fingers exploring across your skin, digging in slightly at your sides as he tugged you closer to him.

“Please Commander” you moaned, tugging at his chest plate. You wanted it off. You wanted to see him and feel him, just like he was feeling you.

Nodding, he gave you a small kiss before stepping away. He cursed as he had to unwrap the fabric he had wrapped around himself to keep his armour in shape and to fight off the cold. “I knew I should have just worn my blacks” he grumbled, shaking his head as he placed his chest plate to the side.

“Yeah? Planned this did you, Commander?” you grinned, smirk plastered on your face as you watched the show.

Mayday rolled his eyes at you, already unbuckling his utility belt and letting it drop to the floor with a small clatter before he worked on his stomach plate. “You wish!” he retorted, before finally managing to get it off. Before you could answer him back, he returned to you, already reaching for your shirt.

Freezing, he looked between himself and you.

“Everything okay?” you asked softly, cupping his face as he seemed to realise that there was a problem.

“We’ll freeze to death if we start stripping. I’ll have to have you naked and spread out on my bed next time, sweetheart” he frowned, thumbs brushing against your stomach.

Giggling, you couldn’t help but agree. It was freezing in here, you’d probably end up with frostbite if too much of your clothes were removed. But what warmed you more than anything was talk of there being a next time. He wanted to be with you again.

Sliding your cooler hands up and under his shirt, you smirked at the quiet yelp that Mayday let out as your fingers brushed against his nipple. It instantly hardened under your touch and you tweaked it between your fingers.

Mayday scowled, pushing your shirt up until it reached your shoulders. Ducking his head, he pressed warm, wet kisses down the valley of your breasts. Grazing his teeth against the side of your breast, his hand began to roughly squeeze and feel your mound.

Panting slightly at the feel of his rough hold of you and the way he was marking your chest, you buried your hands into Mayday’s rugged locks and pulled. The reaction was instantaneous. The moan that tumbled from his lips vibrated through your chest and you grinned, glad to have found one of his likes as well. Tugging and pulling at his hair got him going.

“Don’t look so smug” he grumbled, working his way down your stomach with open mouthed kisses and the occasional brush of his teeth against your soft flesh.

“Can’t help it Commander, you look so good on your knees for me” you sighed, eyes fluttering closed at the feel of his hands sliding around to your arse and giving each cheek a rough squeeze.

He nipped at your hip in retaliation before licking a stripe along your hemline, chuckling at the way your muscles fluttered underneath his tongue at that move.

“Careful sweetheart, you’re still meant to be learning a lesson” he growled, fingers trailing down your inner thigh, around your knee to down your calf. He stopped at the boot that was in the way and gently lifted your leg, tugging off the boot and throwing it behind him where it landed on the table with a dull thud.

“Seems you’re not a very good teacher, Mayday” you grinned, before gasping at the quick slap on your thigh. Had he just spanked you?

Chuckling at the shocked expression on your face, he reached up to tug your leggings and underwear down. “Be a good girl for me, I’d hate for you to not get your reward” he ordered, pulling them down until they reached your knees.

“Don’t bluff!” you groaned, feeling the cool air hit your skin, goosebumps rising in it’s wake. You shivered, trying to press closer to him to chase his warmth.

“Oh, who’s bluffing?” he scoffed, helping to lift your leg up so he could slide it out of one side of your leggings and underwear. His hand skimmed up and down your thigh, working heat into your skin to warn you up slightly. It was ridiculously cold at the moment. He regretted not taking you somewhere warmer.

He pressed a soothing kiss to your hip before guiding your leg over his shoulder, letting it rest on his pauldron. Sighing softly, he could smell your sweet arousal, and he couldn’t help but run his nose up and down your inner thigh. You were so beautiful, he couldn’t believe he was on his knees in front of you, ready to see if you tasted just as sweet as you smelt.

Glancing up at the apex of your thighs, he couldn’t help but groan, feeling himself twitch behind his codpiece. You were soaked, your folds glistening with your arousal. Some of it was spread along your inner thigh and he leaned forward to lick a stripe up your thigh, getting his first taste of you. Moaning, he leant his head against your hip, taking in how perfect you were.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful sweetheart, you taste perfect” he breathed, glancing up to see your flushed face staring back down at him.

“You don’t have to say that” you murmured, biting your lip. He looked amazing down there. His bearded face and long locks framed by your thighs, a hint of shine already on his lips.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m not. I’ll show you” he vowed, brushing his mouth along your other thigh.

You groaned, already knowing that you would have a few marks from his beard and just how it rubbed against your sensitive skin. Leaning further back against the wall, you took in a deep breath before it was forced out of you by Mayday’s eager press of his tongue between your folds. His soft bristles grazed against your inner thighs and you cursed, tugging and pulling at his hair.

Mayday repositioned his hands, gripping onto your arse to steady you against his face as he flicked his tongue around your entrance, drinking the sweet nectar from the source. As he drank you down, he kneaded the soft flesh in his hands, drawing moans and sighs from your lips that only made his cock twitch and press harder against his armour.

His lips closed round your clit, drawing it into his mouth and sucking on it harshly. “Fuck, Mayday!” you cried out, tugging sharply on his hair.

However, as soon as the words escaped you, Mayday pulled away, smirking at your anguish cry as he ran his hand up and down the thigh thrown over his shoulder. “You know what you have to call me if you want me to continue” he reminded, nipping at your inner thigh.

“Fuck… okay, okay” you huffed, frustration building in you, and not just because of Mayday’s talented mouth and fingers but at his continuing denial of your release. “Please, Commander. Suck my clit!” you whined, trying to pull him back to where you needed him most.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it sweetheart?” he teased, before diving back into the sweet nectar that was leaking out of your core.

“You’re… you’re… lucky you’re… so pretty” you panted, hips bucking up into his mouth, wanting to press even more against his teasing tongue and talented lips.

Mayday buried his face into your core, making you cry out and shake against him. “Thank you, sweetheart” he grinned, before collecting your slick on his fingers, covering them in it before he pressed one of his long fingers into your entrance.

“Commander!” you gasped, feeling the way your walls fluttered around the intrusion.

“Good girl” he praised you, rewarding you with withdrawing before thrusting back in.

The whimper that left you from that had you wanting to hide, but it only made Mayday flick his tongue faster over your clit, teasing the small bundle of nerves while he continued to open you up for him.

Your heart was racing, your breaths coming out in small pants as Mayday worked on your clit as he pressed a second finger inside of you, curling them and pressing up and down inside of you. It pushed every thought out of your mind apart from his name, just the feel of his fingers scissoring inside of you and his warm agile tongue drawing your clit into his mouth.

“Co-Commander” you whimpered, bucking as much as you could into his mouth. The hand that wasn’t currently torturing you with his precise movements inside your core, pressed against your lower stomach, pinning you against the wall.

It had you crying out, the feel of his fingers suddenly bigger and just… more. Heat was pooling at the base of your spine, and you could feel pleasure with every thrust and withdrawal of his fingers inside of you.

Mayday added another finger, stretching you open and he couldn’t help but groan at the feel of your slick running down his wrist. He sucked harshly on your clit before pulling away to lap it up. He didn’t leave your clit alone for long though, returning back to rub circles into the nub with his tongue. However, Mayday curled his fingers, aiming for that patch of spongy tissue against the front of your walls. He knew he found it when you let out a loud cry, clenching tightly around his fingers.

“May-Mayday please!” you begged, nails scraping along his scalp and the back of his neck as he held you still.

He hated to do it, he really didn’t want to, but he froze. Not moving at all to aid in your pleasure.

“Nooo! Please! Please! Don’t stop” you cried, writhing underneath his hands.

“Shh, I’ll give you what you want, cyare. Just tell me what I want to hear” he shushed, laying soft kisses along your stomach, enjoying the way you sounded so close to your release.

“Please, please Commander” you groaned, tears pooling in your lashes as your eyes were shut closed. Your body felt alight under his touch, every stroke and suck had lightning shoot up your spine. It was like having fire under your skin that he was pushing you maddeningly closer towards. All you wanted was to cum around his fingers and on his mouth. But he was teasing you and keeping you on the edge until you remembered to call him by his title.

“That’s it, you’re doing so well for me” he smiled, before renewing the way he dragged you along his mouth, tongue slipping in between his fingers to get more of your sweet slick on his tongue. Growling softly, he made sure to press his fingers along that spot with every thrust, twisting and curling his fingers until you were crying out once more. There was no doubt his brothers could probably hear just exactly what he was doing with you in this room but he didn’t care. He wouldn’t stop until you were shuddering underneath him.

“Gonna cum for me, sweetheart? Want your Commander to taste just how sweet you are? Want to flood his face with your juices?” he gritted out, feeling the way your muscles fluttered and clenched around his fingers at his words.

Yes, you wanted that. You wanted that so badly. You wanted to flood his face, drench his beard in your juices until it was all he could think about later. You wanted it all so badly.

The coil in your stomach was growing tighter and tighter, and you desperately forced your eyes opened and looked down, needing to see Mayday in between your legs as he ate you out. He must have felt your eyes on him because his eyes dragged up your body to meet your own, and with a particularly rough twist of his fingers against that spot and a graze of his teeth, he had you falling over the edge with little warning as you clutched onto him as tightly as you could.

“COMMANDER!” fell from your lips as you felt your legs shake as your orgasm washed through you. Every muscle in your body felt loose, you felt boneless as he continued to tease and lap at your opening, desperate to get every last drop of your release. It was pushing you quickly into the realm of oversensitivity and you whimpered, tugging him away with the hand in his hair.

Mayday relented, leaning back on his knees and sending you a soft smile.

He looked filthy, there was a bright hue on the apple of his cheeks, his eyes were slightly dazed at the taste of you, but his beard was covered in your slick. He looked so pleased with himself, and he ran soothing hands up and down your thighs as you stared at each other, breathless.

“You okay?” he asked, pressing against the mark he had left on your inner thigh with his teeth.

“Yeah… yeah… I don’t think I can stand” you mumbled, brushing away strands of your hair away from your forehead and temples.

Grinning, Mayday pushed himself up onto his feet and wrapped you into his arms. He could feel your trembling form against his, and he hoped it was from your release, rather than the cold. “Well, I guess as I’m to blame for that, I’d best keep you up” he teased, pressing a small kiss to the corner of your lips.

You licked your lips, tasting the slight hint of your release. Resting your head against his, you shared the same breath, content to just press against each other for now. However you noticed the way his codpiece was pressed against your hip, grinding slightly against you in a way that suggested Mayday didn’t even notice he was doing it, seeking some relief from what you could imagine was his hard cock.

Humming softly, you slid your hands between you, grinding the heel of your hand against the cold plastoid. Mayday muffled a groan into your neck, as heat flared through him. He had treated you so well, you wanted to do the same to him.

As you went to sink to your knees for him, Mayday stopped you with a hand on your shoulder, shaking his head. “Sweetheart, if you take me into your mouth, this is going to be over sooner than either of us would like. And I really, really want to be inside of you” Mayday interrupted, heavily lidded dark eyes meeting your own surprised one.

“Next time?” you breathed, leaning up to lay kisses along his cheek before stopping at the corner of his lips.

“Yeah, sweetheart. We’ve got time” he assured, twisting his head to capture your lips with his.

Sighing against him, you unclipped his codpiece, letting it fall to the floor between you with a small clatter. The groan of relief that Mayday let out had you giggling. You were sure that the armour had begun to get very restrictive.

“God, they were definitely not made to contain clones’ cocks” Mayday winced, spreading his legs a little wider now that he had more space to move.

Grinning, you passed your hand over his lengths that were still hidden behind his blacks. His cock did feel like it was made out of durasteel, a wet patch formed as he was leaking from his head. Biting your lip, you looked between you, wanting to see just how beautiful he was.

As you pushed the blacks down his hips, his cock popped out, and you couldn’t help but gasp. The Commander was just slightly bigger than average but he was thick, his length disappearing into a bush of dark curls at the base of his cock. God, you couldn’t wait to feel that pressing inside of you, stretching you open.

“Fuck!” you breathed, unable to take your eyes off the angry, red head of his cock. It was leaking pre-cum, slicking his length up and pooling at the base.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” he flirted.

Although you could see the cocky smirk on his face, you heard the underlining tension underneath it. “You’re beautiful, Mayday” you assured, cupping his cheek and stroking beneath the dark circles of his eyes.

Mayday didn’t seem to know what to do with your words, so he nuzzled into your palm, pressing a kiss there and sighing softly.

“Ready? Wrap your arms around me and jump, I promise I’ll catch you” he instructed, hands sliding down your sides to cup the back of your thighs.

“I trust you” you assured, doing what he said.

“Good girl, so you can follow instructions” he drawled, “jump!”

As you used the grip on his shoulders to propel you up, he lifted you up to his waist, wrapping your legs around him and securing you against the wall. The move had you letting out a small squeak at just how strong your Commander was, but his grip on you was tight, not letting you go anywhere.

“You’re strong” you gasped, squeezing your arms around him once more.

“I won’t let you fall, cyare” he promised, leaning forward to kiss you sweetly. “Ready?” he asked quietly, reaching in between you and notching his cock at your entrance.

“I’m ready, Commander” you nodded, slightly breathless at the thought that you were going to do this. You and Mayday were going to fuck for the first time after so long of you both wanting each other. After all the times you enjoyed each other’s company and clashed with each other, it all came down to this moment.

Mayday pressed into you in one slow but cautious thrust, eyes trained on your face to read your every reaction, not wanting to hurt you. When he was bottomed out inside of you, he stilled, hand coming down to secure you against his waist. He waited for you to get used to his size, knowing it might not be what you were used to.

Whining, you gritted your teeth at the stretch, the thickness of his length pushing against your pulsating walls. It felt so right for him to be inside of you, the way you fitted around each other just proved how this was the best thing you were ever going to do.

Mayday pressed kisses along your jaw, fingers trailing to your clit to softly rub patterns along it, distracting you while you got used to him.

The touch against your clit had you jolting, and you dug your nails into his shoulders, letting out a small gasp. “I’m ready, you can move now Commander” you assured him, dragging your nose along his and nuzzling into him.

Mayday held you up as he pulled his hips back, before pushing back in with a gentle and slow thrust. He buried his head into your neck, breath shaky at the feel of your hot, wet channel fluttering around his length. It took everything in him to not cum right then and there, but he had more self control than that, he was going to make sure you enjoyed yourself and cum once more before he found his own release.

As he began to pick up a rhythm, the sharp, short jabs into you had your breath hitching with every thrust. You clung onto him, tightening your legs around his waist and drawing him closer to you. The feel of his beard brushed against your neck, and you knew there would be an interesting mark there come tomorrow, just from his beard. It seemed that Mayday was marking you up, even if he meant it or not.

“May-” you panted, arching your chest into his as you ran your hands through his hair.

“Don’t make me stop!” he grunted out, hips faltering just at the thought.

“Please don’t! Fuck, I’m sorry Commander” you gasped, clenching around him at the thought of him stopping.

Mayday let out a wounded sound, hips thrusting deeper into you as he felt you tighten around him, like you didn’t want to let go of him. He hefted you higher up the wall, able to sink into your delicious heat with long deep thrusts. He bounced you on his cock, lifting and sinking you down with every roll of his hips up into you.

Whimpering at the feel of his cock spearing into you, you dragged your nails down his back, trying to rock into him as much as you could. But in this position, there was very little you could do but to hang on and let Mayday take control of the rhythm.

“Touch yourself, sweetheart. Want to see you, ugh! Touch yourself” he hissed, hips bucking into yours sharply as he felt his control start to slip. He wanted to see you fall over the edge first, to feel you clenching and tightening around his cock first.

“Commander” you managed to get out, although you weren’t sure if it was beginning to slur as he thrust up into you, dragging the head of his cock against that spot inside of you that made everything white out.

But you did as you were told, fingers slipping between you two to focus on your swollen bundle of nerves. Just the touch of your fingertips against your clit had you crying out, oversensitive from his mouth and the earlier orgasm. You felt more slick leak from you and you couldn’t help but throw your head back at the wave of pleasure that was beginning to build up inside of you.

“Oh fuck! Oh fuck, I’m close!” you cried, clinging onto his shoulders as the other hand played with your clit.

Mayday let out a growl, teeth grazing your shoulder as he began to quicken his thrusts, slamming into you as he felt his own release building.

“Please, please Commander. Let me cum” you begged, edging closer and closer to your release.

Mayday snarled, unable to believe you were asking for his permission to cum. He had never told you that you had to do that, but it sent such heat through him at the thought he could feel his balls begin to tighten and move up.

“Yes, yes sweetheart, cum for your Commander” he groaned through gritted teeth as his hips began to loose their rhythm.

With one more sweep of your fingers against your engorged clit, and the feel of Mayday driving into you with powerful thrusts, you were thrown off the edge. Your release shuddered through you, and you didn’t know if you shouted out his name or not, but Mayday continued to work you through your orgasm, prolonging it as he chased his own pleasure.

Feeling a spike of pain as you scratch at his back, Mayday let out a loud snarl at the way you called out Commander as you came. It was just what he needed as he fell over the edge, ecstasy washing through him as he unloaded his cum into your quivering channel. With a few remaining thrusts, he fell still, feeling you shuddering around him, although he wasn’t sure if it was you or him that was shaking after your powerful releases.

Slowly, Mayday sunk to the floor, keeping you wrapped around him but making sure you were buried into his chest. The pair of you caught your breaths, panting against each other as you relaxed. It was silent between you, but it wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable. It was perfect, just like those moments when you were in the control room together, minding the cameras. Or when you were in the mess hall, enjoying a cup of caf together in the morning. It felt right.

“So Commander” you drawled, when you had regained enough energy to speak, and you looked up at him with a tired but pleased smile. He returned it, running a hand up and down your back as he kept you close to him. “Do I still have to call you Commander whenever we speak?” you teased, trailing your fingers up and down his chest.

“Hmm, perhaps not. Not when I’ll remember this every time you do. Might get a bit awkward for the boys” he joked, joining you as you laughed at his words.

“You’re probably right. How about we get dressed and get some caf? I’m starting to freeze here, next time we’re definitely doing this in my bedroom” you insisted, leaning forward to capture his lips.

“Yes ma’am!” he agreed, pulling away and holding you for a bit longer.

[feralferrule]

Oh!

Oh my, I love this! Look at the boys! And poor Echo, someone get him some menudo.

Wilke! Yes I can see Choy a regular feature in gilded age men’s magazines.

“I’m not that good” pffffffffff This is gorgeous and a perfect interpretation and GAR Goth Night is a fluid reality on the coruscant ley lines anyway.

Gotcha, Choy :3 @feral-ferrule (the outfit is not quite right, but I'm not that good) P.S. I don't look for piece of art specifically. I usually look for something completely different, it comes to me on its own.

Reference Reference Reference

Karl Alexander Wilke

stolen tag list @ghostymarni @lonewolflupe @wings-and-beskargam @eclec-tech @eobe @foxwithadarkside @fiveminutetrash @crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf @feral-ferrule @ladylucksrogue @nika6q @skellymom @vimse @gargothnightzine @sunshinesdaydream @noblelightfighter @returnofthepineapple @freesia-writes @covert1ntrovert @vikushat @nocturius8015ficore @mamuzzy @risavulpes @niobiumao3 @sazzujazzu @blackseafoam @thora-sniper @gars-weaponeer @leenathegreengirl @vodika-vibes @headphones-ct-09978 @thecoffeelorian @bad4amficideas

[meshla-cyarika]

The Tip of the Iceberg

Pairing: Imperial!Crosshair x Imperial!reader

Word count: 4,073

Tags/warnings: descriptions of injures, lieutenant Nolan deserves his own warning, angst, hurt/comfort, love confession, sfw, cuddling virtually naked to prevent hypothermia

Summary: You and your Commander are sent to the planet Barton IV to neutralise raiders that are stealing imperial supplies. You're on the edge of deserting the Empire as it is, but this mission finally tips you over the edge…

--------------------------------------------------

It was supposed to be like any other mission.

You had arrived on Barton IV with Lieutenant Nolan, a batch of troops and Commander Crosshair. You and Crosshair go way back. You had met at the end of the war, when you were assigned as his Captain. You originally thought his snobbish behaviour was from the chip, like the rest of the clones, but after a while you realised there's more than that. There's more than hatred in his eyes.

The two of you share some sort of understanding between each other. You've both lost everything and you both seem to stand out. When you had been with your battalion during the war, there was no separation and they treated you like one of their own, but now you feel like you stick out and that you're the only one that doesn't understand all of this like the others do. Apart from Crosshair. He's like your oasis in a desert of despair.

"How long have you been here?" You found yourself asking Hexx and Veetch, the only troops under Commander Mayday's control. You had stopped engaging with clones as much as possible a while back, because it hurts too much to see the same hollow shell of a man again and again and again. There's something about these troopers, something familiar. Their mannerisms and speech aren't modulated like the rest of the clones.

"Nearly a year." Hexx answered from where you were standing around one of the last working radiators.

"Mayday has been here longer." Veetch chimed in.

"Why are you all here?" You inquired.

"Fucked if we know." Hexx scoffed and your neutral facade nearly shattered in surprise at his words. Profanities are rare enough for clones nowadays, but to say something like that which could been interpreted agaisnt the Empire is like blasphemy.

"Hexx." Veetch had hissed out through gritted teeth.

"Well, I guess we're all in the same boat then." There was something more to your words, something cryptic. Whether either of them picked up on it, you do not know.

《》《》《》《》

The raiders came out of nowhere.

There had been an overbearing alarm ringing through the entire base and all troops available rushed outside, including yourself. It was just a blur of shouting and blaster fire to you. What you distinctly remember is helping Veetch drag an injured Hexx to cover and a group of thugs stealing a cargo crate.

"Well, don't just stand there!" Lieutenant Nolan yelled. "Get after them!"

You quickly glanced around and noticed all of Mayday's men, including himself, had been injured and the troops you came with we're too far away from the pirates to make a decent chase. You locked eyes with Crosshair and both of you held a silent conversation, before taking off in the direction the raiders fled in.

《》《》《》《》

Currently, Crosshair and yourself are tracking a trail of blood through a cave system. A storm seems to be rolling in fast and you're just about sixteen minutes away from the outpost. You're starting to wonder if it's worth the hassle. Then again, if Nolan raises his voice at you, you might just rip his throat out.

"I don't know how long we should be out here." You speak up, eyeing the percentage in the corner of the screen of your helmet that informs you how much power you have left in the thermal suit under your armour.

"Scared of a few pirates, Captain?" Crosshair says back and you're about to retort, but a loud click! silences you both. You're unfortunate enough to have heard that sound hundreds of times. Landmine. All your muscles tense and your breathing stops. You spare a glance down at Crosshair's shoes and see his right foot ontop of a slate of metal hidden beneath the snow.

"Pressure mine." You observe.

"I noticed." Crosshair hisses back. You holster your blaster and crouch down to get a better look. "Do you know how to disarm it?"

"Oh, don't worry," you peel off your helmet, "I only failed explosive technology twice." You lightly blow the snow off the top of the mine.

"What crimes have I committed to deserve being trapped on a landmine with you?" He sighs and you look up at his visor with a cheeky grin.

"I haven't seen a mine exactly like this before, but it's a Mon Cala make and they keep all their pressure mines virtually the same." You pull out a set of pegs and small hammer from a pocket in your utility belt. You lightly hammer in a peg at each point of the triangular mine to keep the pressure plate down. "There. That should do it." You slowly stand up, picking up your helmet and flashlight along the way.

"Aren't you going to move?" Even with a helmet on, you can tell he's giving you that sceptical look with narrowed eyes which causes his tattoo to crinkle slightly.

"You're not leaving me alone to deal with Nolan." You arch a brow at him with a slight smirk. He stays still for a few more seconds, before hesitatingly raising his foot off of the pressure plate. A weight is instantly lifted off of yours and Crosshair's shoulders, when nothing happens. "Scared of a few landmines, Commander?"

He knocks his shoulders agaisnt you as he walks by and you can't help the chuckle that bubbles out of your chest. You slide your helmet back on and pull out your blaster.

《》《》《》《》

After a few more minutes, you finally make it to the other end of the tunnel. Harsh winds filled with snow barrel past you, but you're just about able to make out some sort of settlement on a cliff in the distance.

"Multiple contacts inside. Two gaurds at the entrance." Crosshair says, after lifting up his Firepuncher to scope it out.

"Just like Jakku, then."

The two of you treck through the snow drifts, almost getting pushed over by the wind. You can't help the way you glance at your thermal suit percentage every five seconds. When you first put it on, it was only at 70%, but you couldn't do anything about it because you were being shipped out in five minutes. You're already down to 50% and the temperature keeps dropping as the sun rapidly sets.

You don't bother telling Crosshair. "There's no point in having deadweight" according to him. Even after all the arguments, all the shouting and screaming, all the disagreements about whether someone should live or die, you'd still carry him through deserts, blizzards, flash flooding and even enemy territory.

You'd do that for any loyal soldier. It's what any person in their right mind would do. That's what you tell yourself to distract your mind from the fact that you've gradually fallen for him over the course of a year. If you were to tell anyone, you're sure the first thing that they would ask is "why him?". You seem to understand each other on a different level from anyone else. You've only known him for a year, but you have already survived so much together. So much bloodshed and tears and being treated like shit by everyone around you. Crosshair has remained the only constant in your life since the end of the war and a part of you never wants him to leave.

An arm across your chest snaps you back to the present and you almost flinch at the contact. You turn to find Crosshair's visor already looking down at you. He wordlessly nods to the entrance gaurds that have their backs to you. You nod back and take a deep breath to settle your mind back to the matter at hand. 45%. You can do this.

You both lower into a crouch to create the least amount of noise possible and gradually sneak up on the pair. Once you're in close enough proximity, you both spring to your full heights and put them in headlocks, kicking the back of their knees to put their own weight on their necks and stop their airflow. After you're sure they're knocked out, you drop them to the ground.

You sneak up to the cave entrance, Crosshair on the right, you on the left. There's atleast two dozen supply creates stolen from the outpost and most of them aren't even opened. You watch as Crosshair pulls out a stun shell and rolls it into the middle of the room. Electricity tingles through the air, as the shell shocks three thugs.

There's just a massive blur of blaster fire and shouting from the raiders. As soon as you shoot down one, three more appear. They just keep coming. At one point one of the raiders jumps on a cargo carrier and tries to drive off, but Crosshair shoots him down with ease and the carrier crashes into the snow.

"I wasn't looking for a prolonged fight today." You tell Crosshair from where you're both hiding behind the same rock.

Crosshair doesn't respond, as he looks at something intently through his scope within the base. You're about to ask what the hell he's looking at, when suddenly an almighty explosion erupts from within the cave. Smoke fills the air and debri goes flying. It's safe to say all the raiders are now dead.

"Move!" Crosshair suddenly shouts, grabbing you by your bicep to pull you away from the entrance of the cave just before the baulders infront of it crumble down. There's a moment of silence where you're both just staring at the mountain. "Let's load the cargo and leave." Crosshair finally let's go of you and turns to the crashed cargo carrier.

The ghost of his touch still lingers, as you pick up a helmet that had fallen out of one of the crates. You can't help the scoff that leaves your lips at the sight of a newly designed stormtrooper helmet, which is clearly not made for something as primitive as a clone to wear.

"The Empire's shiny new army gets the goldmine, while ex-Republic pick up the scraps." You chuck the helmet back into the snow. "How much longer till we're replaced?" You turn to face him and you find Crosshair's deep brown eyes staring back at you, his helmet being held in his hands. His expression is neutral, but his eyes aren't. There's a certain glint in them and, if you didn't know any better, you'd say he's conflicted.

There's a faint rumbling in the distance and the ground beneath your feet begins to tremble. Confused, you turn to look at the peak of the mountain and what you see strikes utter horror into your soul. An avalanche is crashing down the mountain and quickly gaining speed.

"Go!"

You both know that you won't make it to any kind of cover in time, but all you can do is run. Your legs burn as you push yourself forward and the ice cold air feels like it's slicing open your lungs. The roaring of the avalanche is almost deafening, as you will yourself to move forward.

It's no use.

The snow swallows your body, dragging you through a sea of ice. The last thing you see is the blinking numbers of 36%, before your back collides with something rock solid and the darkness consumes you.

《》《》《》《》

Crosshair awakens with a weak splutter, desperately trying to get oxygen into his lungs, which is difficult when he's embedded in a sea of snow. A sense of claustrophobia over takes the Commander and he frantically claws through the ice to force himself out. His hand eventually breaks through the surface and he manages to pull himself upright into the open air. A throaty cough rips through his throat when the ice cold air slices through his lungs. He suddenly remembers how he had lost his helmet when the avalanche submerged him.

A million thoughts surge through his mind, as a black ice vulture squawks in the pale moon light. Crosshair reaches below him and pulls his Firepuncher from the tomb he had found himself in. The Commander calls out your name as loud as he can, which admittedly isn't that loud, and only the howls of the wind greet his ears.

Right, he needs to stop and think for a moment. If he has no helmet, he has no way of communicating with you. If he stays out here for over an hour, he's history. Then again, if you're dead, what's the point of going back. You're the only thing that ties him to the Empire. Without you, he has no way of life.

No. This isn't the time to be thinking about that. For all he knows, you're still alive. In fact, with a spirit like yours, there's no way you're dead. You're way too stubborn and he hates how he's grown to like that quality about you. He hates how he's grown to like you in general. Crosshair isn't stupid. It's obvious that you're on the edge of deserting the Empire and never looking back, leaving him behind to pick up the pieces. Crosshair can't leave the Empire. It's his only purpose. The clones, order 66, the Empire, it all has to be for something. His life has to have been designed for something more than this. It has to be.

Crosshair desperately checks his gear for anything that could help him find you. Then, he remembers the pack on his back, which he quickly rips off and rummages through. Before you left for this mission, you had reminded him not to forget the thermal scanner and he had made a joke about how you're scared about getting lost. Crosshair grimaces at the bitter irony and finally pulls the scanner from his pack.

The screen blinks to life and Crosshair puts it on the maximum proximity setting. The scanner remains silent and Crosshair is about to throw it across the plain in a fit of rage, but then there's a very faint beeping. The heat signature is big enough to be human and it's signalling from about two miles in the east. A heat signature doesn't necessarily mean you're alive, but he shoves that thought aside.

Crosshair clasps the seals of his pack, slides it back onto his back and stumbles to stand, scanner and Firepuncher in hand. He's going to find you, even if it kills him.

《》《》《》《》

Crosshair has been walking for just over half an hour and the numbness in his face is almost unbearable. His thermal suit is still pumping heat through his body, but he has no idea how much charge it has left. He doesn't even know how long he was passed out for.

The scanner blinks erratically in his hands and when he looks down at it, he realises he's stood right on top of you. Crosshair drops everything and sinks to his knees, frantically digging through the snow. After a moment, his hands collide with plastoid and he digs even further. Soon enough, more and more of your black armour is revealed.

Crosshair uncovers most of your body and he quickly tears off his glove to tuck his fingers underneath the collar of your blacks. His breathing is ragged, as he searches for a pulse. The faint feeling of your heartbeat thrums through his fingertips and he could almost cry in relief. Until he notices the crimson stained snow seeping out from beneath you.

Crosshair uses all his remaining strength to lift you out of your tomb and lay you down on the surface. He cautiously removes your helmet to make sure that's not where the bleeding is coming from and, thankfully, it's not. Then, he eyes your form up and down and can't see where the wound is, so he carefully rolls you over onto your side. Crosshair finds a gash on your shoulder blade from where you had lost your pack in the avalanche, which is still bleeding out and causing your blacks to stick to your skin.

If either of you stay out here any longer, you're both going to die. Crosshair needs to find shelter now. He scans his surroundings through the almost pitch black blizzard and eventually his eyes lock onto, what looks like, the entrance of a cave.

A shiver racks through his body, as he brings himself to stand. Crosshair picks his thermal scanner back up to tuck it into his belt and slings his rifle over his shoulder, before placing your helmet back on and carefully picking up your body to lay over his shoulder.

《》《》《》《》

Crosshair practically collapses as soon as he sets foot into the cave and he makes sure to gently lay you down onto the stone floor. He's pretty sure he's sprained his ankle and bruised his ribs, but atleast the cold is keeping him from feeling all the pain.

Crosshair pulls his pack off his back to rummage through again. The first thing he pulls out is two anti-frostbite shots that should slow down the effects of the cold for you both. You remain lax and expressionless, as he injects the stim canister into your arm. Crosshair doesn't let the concern get to him, while he injects his own shot. He has to focus on setting up his single tent, which is the next thing he pulls out his pack.

His breathing ragged, yet his hands are still, while he unfolds the tent and presses the auto-expand button. Once it's in a oval bubble shape, he drags you inside. Crosshair zips the reinforced door closed and suddenly it feels like you're both cut off from the rest of the galaxy. It's just you and him. That's all that matters.

Right. He's got to treat your wound, then follow hypothermia protocol. Crosshair carefully slides off your helmet and tries to ignore how your lifeless expression strikes a cold sliver of ice into his soul. He undoes the the clasps on your cuirass and the armour on your arms to slide it off and place at the end of the tent, before peeling off the top layer of your blacks. Crosshair is surprised to feel your clothes are as cold as ice. Your thermal suit must have malfunctioned.

"Di'kut." He mutters under his breath, before peeling off the top of your thermal suit, which leaves you in your breast band, and rolling you onto your side again. From what Crosshair can see, it doesn't look that bad of a laceration, but he's ninety percent sure that you've fractured your shoulder blade based on the purple bruising.

What the hell have you gotten yourselves into? With Barton IV, with Lieutenant Nolan, with the entire Empire. What are you even fighting for anymore? They keep claiming that the war is over, but it clearly isn't. It's never going to be over. Clone agaisnt droid. Jedi against Sith. Republic agaisnt Separatist. No matter how many different names it gets, this war will never end. The only thing that matters is which side you're on.

Crosshair shakes his head to clear his thoughts and finishes making a sling out of bandages to give your fractured bone more support. There's a bacta patch underneath the bandages and he's given you a bacta shot aswell.

The hypothermia protocol says to remove any wet clothing and both of you are drenched. So, he unclasps your belt and the rest of your armour, before peeling off your lower blacks and thermal suit. Crosshair quickly snaps his eyes away from you. He's thought of seeing you naked hundreds of times, but he never thought the first time would be like this. Crosshair rips off his armour and clothes, placing his thermal suit over your body.

The last things Crosshair does is activate the distress signal from within your helmet and wrap a blanket around you both from within his pack. A shaky sigh leaves his lips, when he wraps his arms around you  and keeps you pressed tight against him, making sure to not injure your shoulder any further.

Even if no one answers the distress call, even if Nolan tells his men to ignore it, you're here, together and you're in his arms. Crosshair wouldn't want to die any other way…

《》《》《》《》

When you wake up, all you feel is warmth and you start to think you're dead. You've never particularly believed in an afterlife, but this has to be it, right? Your blurred vision soon evens out and all you can see is a white wall and all you can feel is something soft and warm beneath you.

You try to sit up and, yeah, maybe you're not in the afterlife. You're pretty sure dead people don't feel pain, not on this scale atleast. A weak wince leaves your lips and you let yourself lay back down.

Suddenly, what's acting as your matress starts moving and you finally notice the pair of arms around you as they tighten their hold.

"Udesiir. Gar're morut'yc. Udesiir."

You sigh in relief at the familiar voice and sink further into his embrace. "Cross…"

"I'm here." His voice is uncharacteristically soft and it sends a soft pang into your chest, as he threads a hand through your hair. A million memories flood through your mind and reality finally sets in.

"Where are my clothes?" You become suddenly aware at how close you really are. If you were positioned just a little bit lower, your pelvises would be pressed against each other-

Crosshair scoffs at your question. "Calm down, captain. You were lucky enough to live, but not that lucky." His words are humourous, but his voice wavers slightly.

You finally lock eyes onto the pile of clothes at the foot of the tent. Right. Hypothermia protocol. The avalanche. You remember being thrown against a boulder but nothing else. Based on how your arm is in a sling, your shoulder must be atleast fractured. You can hear a storm hurtling around outside and anxieties about how you're going to get back to the outpost flood your mind.

You must been separated during the avalanche, you could've been separated for miles, but he still came back for you…You don't even realise there are tears in your eyes till one falls. You try to blink them from your eyes and use your free hand to wipe them away.

"I have one more bacta shot left, if the pain is that unbearable?" Crosshair pushes himself to sit up, with you still held against his chest. Stupid snipers. They're always observing.

"No." You sigh and run your hand over your face. "It's not that."

Crosshair pulls the blanket back up from where it had dropped from your shoulders and moves you to sit sideways on his lap.

"Talk to me." Tell me you feel the same.

"I'm tired, Cross." He continues to run his hand through your hair. "Tired of fighting for nothing, for people who don't care. I don't know what to do anymore."

"…I understand."

You lean your head away from his shoulder to look him in the eye. Out of all the things he could've said, you didn't expect him to say that.

"Loyalty means something to me, to all the clones, but the Empire betrayed our trust. We mean nothing to them."

You have seen Crosshair show his deeper emotions before, but only in short bursts. You've never seen him look so vulnerable before.

"You mean something to me." You raise your free hand to rest agaisnt the side of his face and it's like a reflex for him to lean into it. "You mean everything to me."

The words are painful to say, but the look in his eyes is worth it. The way you lean towards each other and finally bridge the gap is worth it. His lips are dry, yet soft, agaisnt your own and you move agaisnt each other in a dance neither of you knew you could do. The kiss abruptly ends, when you wince after trying to move your arm.

"This isn't how I wanted our first kiss to go." He rests his forehead against yours.

"I thought you knew by now that nothing goes our way." You laugh slightly through your tears. "What are we going to do, Cross?"

"I don't know, but I'm not leaving you. We stay together." Crosshair insists.

"No, complaints from me." You flash him a cheeky grin, before pressing your lips against his once more.

[hugmekenobi]

S2: The Bad Batch (12)

Chapter Twelve: The Outpost

Gif by @dreamswithghosts

Hunter x femaleJedi!reader

Series Summary: Some time has passed since everything that happened at Kamino and you and the Batch are trying to figure out your place in the rapidly changing Imperial galaxy. And you're having to do all this whilst figuring out where your relationship with Hunter fits into it.

Chapter Summary: Crosshair's mission for the Empire finalises what he'd feared would happen to him. Meanwhile, you and the Batch take on a tame job yet you find yourself filled with anticipatory dread but you have no sense of why.

Masterlist for S1

<Previous Chapter

Genre: Friends (idiots) to Lovers (we're in the lovers stage now)

Chapter Warnings: Canon-typical violence, angst, Lieutenant Nolan, character death, my interpretation of Crosshair's thought process, Force-related anxiety, descriptions of exhaustion, poor attempt at kidnapping, light injury descriptions, reader isn't quite on top of things, briefest instances of innuendo (it's tiny and you might not even notice it but including just in case), me making up some of Hunter's past, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 5.9K

Author's notes: Told you I hadn't forgotten about Crosshair lol, the poor boy goes through it. Also added my own thing to go with it and thank you to @fuckoffthanos and @arctrooper69 for helping me out with deciding how this should go! Also, @arctrooper69, loved your idea and had to incorporate it somehow but just the way other things panned out, it's a bit on the tamer side but thank you again! Hope you everyone enjoys!

He waited by the shuttle and watched. He watched the group of newly redundant clones walk past. It was the same spiel from the Imperial officer every time- “The Empire thanks you for your years of service and wishes you well on your retirement.” Like that would really make a difference.

“CT-9904?”

Yes, that was who he was to them now. Just a designation, but at least he still had a purpose here, not like the countless others he’d seen be forced out. He turned to face the lieutenant who addressed him.

“You’re out of uniform.”

Right, yes. Can’t be seen to look too different. He put his helmet on and awaited his instructions.

“I’m Lieutenant Nolan, your commanding officer for this mission. We’re heading to the Imperial Depot on Barton-4. High-value cargo stored there has been targeted by local insurgents. We’re to secure it until it’s transferred at week’s end.” Nolan paused as he heard the faint voices of the clones already in the shuttle. He let out an irritated sigh. “Fantastic. More clones.”

“Problem, sir?”

“Yes. I don’t like used equipment.” He boarded the shuttle. “Let’s go.”

Right. ‘Used equipment.’ He couldn’t afford to give that more thought. There was a mission to complete. He grabbed his sniper rifle and stepped onto the ship.

--

Barton-4 was an ice planet. And a hostile one at that. The cold wind howled and worked its way through to his armour and seeped into his bones, and the gusts of snow made it hard to see ahead. It was understandable how things had been going so wrong. Getting caught off guard by native insurgents in a place like this would mean the squadron here would have no chance of defending themselves successfully.

The group made their way into the main cargo haul and Nolan addressed the droids moving the shipments. “Where is your supervisor?”

“You must be our reinforcements.”

They all turned in the direction of the voice who emerged from behind one of the containers.

“We expected you 36 rotations ago. Did you get lost?” The clone asked coolly.

“We work on the Empire’s schedule, trooper, not yours.” Nolan replied.

“It’s Commander, Lieutenant.”

“Well, Commander, your orders were to guard and protect this facility and its cargo, yet this outpost is grossly unguarded.” He followed the clone round the corner. “Where are the rest of your men?”

“Dead.” He replied bluntly before he introduced the clones cowering round a heat lamp. “Hexx, Veetch, and I, we’re all that’s left.”

Their names. He was using their names. Not designations.

“Your failings will be dealt with later.” Nolan scolded. “For now, I am in charge here until the cargo is transported.”

“I feel safer already.” The commander drawled.

“Look here, clone, you speak to me with respect.” Nolan snapped.

“In my experience, respect is something to be earned.”

The Lieutenant sneered. “Yet the Empire assigned you to this desolate rock, were you let the majority of your squad get killed.”

The commander didn’t rise to it. “Tell me, Lieutenant, how many missions have you commanded?”

Meanwhile, he watched the interaction between these two men with hidden interest. He liked that this clone wasn’t backing down so easily.

“That’s what I thought.” The commander said as his question was greeted by silence. He addressed his group behind him. “Boys, why don’t you help the new boss get situated?” As soon as they all left, he focused his attention on the soldier in black armour that had followed the lieutenant in. “You, uh, know the lieutenant well?”

“For about two hours.” He responded.

The commander scoffed. “Two hours too long, I bet.”

He hummed in agreement and was both surprised and grateful to see his fellow clone bring over the heat lamp.

“So, what’d you do to get stuck with this mission?”

“Just lucky, I guess.” He said distantly.

The commander’s laugh turned into a sigh. “The name’s Mayday.” He looked at the clone expectantly.

He debated for a moment. It had been so long since anyone had wanted to know his name and cared enough to ask about it. “Crosshair.” It almost sounded foreign; it had been a long time since he’d had a reason to use it.

“Welcome to The Outpost.” Mayday with faux celebration. He grabbed his helmet and blaster. “I’ll give you the lay of the land.”

--

Nothing was out of the ordinary, the ship flew peacefully through hyperspace, with you all deciding that you were going to heed Cid’s instructions- after all she had said you shouldn’t return if you didn’t scavenge anything from the crash site so you were doing as you were told and the added benefit of not being in her employment worked things out quite nicely.

So, why as you sat on the edge of your bunk, was it that with nothing being out of the norm, you had a deep sense of dread lingering in your heart? This was the worst it had been; you had sensed it creeping in the days since the failed mission from Cid and your sleep had been very limited but you had put the cause down as being the mission and assumed it would go away. It hadn’t. And last night had been the worst. It overwhelmed you and had prevented you from sleeping entirely and the exhaustion you were feeling wasn’t helping matters. A light tapping on your leg forced you out of your head.

You glanced down to see Hunter kneeling in front of you, hand on your knee. “Sorry, did you say something?”

“What’s going on?”

“Didn’t sleep well.” You said briskly, not wanting to create a fuss.

“Something on your mind?” Hunter asked kindly. He could tell you were putting a brave face on but even that couldn’t hide the dark shadows under your eyes and the way you could barely keep your head up.

You shook your head. You didn’t want to bother him with something you couldn’t even put a cause or label on. “Is something happening?” You jutted your head in the direction of the cockpit where the others were gathered.

Hunter let your deflection pass for now. He knew you well enough to know that he couldn’t push you to talk. You would come to him when you needed it.

“Phee got in touch. She’s got a mission for us, but she needs us to get some credits from a contact first.”

“And the catch?” You asked, stifling a yawn.

“Her contact seems to have five possible addresses to keep people guessing his location.”

You nodded slowly. “Honestly was expecting worse.”

Hunter gave you a small smile. “I’d figure I’d keep Omega with me and the rest of you split to check out each of the other addresses?”

“Sounds good, Seargeant.” You said as you stood up to go to the refresher. You splashed some water on your face, and you caught a glimpse of your reflection. You did look pretty rough. Your eyes were puffy and dark circles graced the skin underneath them. Maybe a distraction from this feeling would be a good idea. There wasn’t much you could do about the tiredness expect for push through but even doing a small job might help with forgetting for a little bit.

--

Not only had it sounded like Mayday and his team had been hung out to dry with degraded equipment and poor support all the while protecting cargo the Empire hadn’t deemed necessary to inform them of what exactly it was, but it also hadn’t taken long for the first attack on the depot to occur since he and the rest of them had arrived.

The raiders had made it in and out fast and had caused the deaths of the rest of Mayday’s team and had stolen more cargo. The only saving grace had been that Crosshair had been able to hit one of them as they retreated, and the blood trail led to a system of ice tunnels that had allowed them to slip through undetected for months.

Upon Nolan’s request, he and Mayday had gone in search of the crates, and they started with the ice tunnel.

--

“You sure you’re up for this?” Hunter asked you gently as the others stepped off the ship.

You knew he was coming from a good place, but your sleep-deprived state took it as more of an insult. “Yes.” You said tetchily.

Hunter raised his hands in appeasement. “I’m just checking in.”

You exhaled wearily and ran a hand across your face. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s probably best to just leave me be for the moment.” You lifted your hood and mask up.

Hunter debated pushing the matter further, but he decided to wait until this task was over. “Okay.” He put his helmet on and let you leave the ship first.

--

It turned out that Wrecker had the current address and after he confirmed everything went smoothly, Hunter had said you were all to head back to the ship. You cut down an alley way that was a shortcut but also a means to avoid a public scene since you’d been followed once you’d rounded the corner from one of the contact’s alternative residences. “Please, I’m in no mood to do this today.” You said tiredly as the figure dashed in front of you, halting you in your tracks. You stared the Weequay. “What do you want?”

“How’d you know about the money? I’ve been watching that house, and I heard your comm. Where’d you find him?”

“I don’t have it.” You ignored the crux of his question.

“No, but someone you know does. And you’re going to help us get it.”

You really couldn’t be bothered with a simple kidnapping. If you were going to be threatened today, you’d rather it be a bit more interesting than this. “You know you’re not actually going to get anywhere with that plan, right?”

The Weequay simply sniggered and drew a blaster.

You sighed heavily and reached for your holster. Your entire body was slow. You’d never felt so sluggish.

And that was probably why you didn’t pick up on the ‘us’ or register the person that came from behind and smacked the butt of their blaster across the back of your head.

--

“Alright, let’s get going.” Wrecker said cheerily as he stepped on board and put the case down. He took his helmet off.

Hunter glanced past him. “(Y/N)’s not with you?”

Wrecker shook his head. “Was she supposed to be?”

“She’s not come back yet, and we haven’t heard from her.” Omega informed him, her own troubled face matching Hunter’s.

Hunter reached for his comm and tried for you, but he got no reply. “She wouldn’t go radio silent without being told to.”

“You guys aren’t in a fight, are you?” Wrecker asked.

Hunter shot his brother an irritated look. “No. And even if we were, she knows better than to ignore any of us if we’re checking in.”

“(Y/N), come in.” Omega tried but again was met with no response.

Both Wrecker and Tech also attempted to get in touch with you, but nothing came through.

Hunter started pacing. You wouldn’t ignore all of them. You just wouldn’t, no matter what was happening. The panic was starting to set in now. It was something he rarely did and when he did do it, he didn’t like it, but now he was thinking he should’ve pulled his rank with you and at least made you stay on the ship. He’d known you were in not shape to go out there, even if it was a simple mission, whatever you were going through and the exhaustion you were experiencing would have an effect on anyone.

“Hunter, it’s her.” Tech called over from the cockpit as the ship’s main communication control lit up. Only it wasn’t your voice that came through.

“If you want to see her again, meet us with that lovely case of credits you picked up in 30 minutes.”

“How do we know she’s with you?” Hunter asked, doing his best to keep his voice level.

There was a pause on the other end of the line. “Her top has half a white skull on it.”

Dammit. Hunter paid no attention to the looks the others gave him. He needed to know more. He needed to know if you were okay. “I want to hear her. For all I know, you just saw her and that was the first thing you noticed.”

The voice chuckled unkindly. “She’s currently… unavailable for speaking. If you want that to be a more permanent state, then by all means, don’t do as we say. But, if you want her back, you better be here.”

“If you’ve hurt her-”

“It’s 20 minutes now. By all means, keep talking and pissing me off if you want her to suffer but I’d suggest you start walking.”

“Wait, but where are-” Omega started to say but the transmission cut out. “How are we supposed to find her?” She addressed the others.

“They used her own comm. I can trace it easily enough.” Tech said calmly as he got to work.

“The rest of us will go over her steps.” Hunter directed before he led the way off the ship.

--

If it wasn’t for the throbbing radiating throughout your skull, you might’ve been grateful for being knocked out. It was the closest thing you’d had to a rest. But the resulting headache and embarrassment at being so easily caught took precedence over any relief at being able to not think about what signals the Force was trying to send you. Now that you were awake, the feeling was back.

“Ah good, you’re up.”

You ignored the voice and took in your surroundings instead. The room was dark, the only light came from the faint glow of a lantern, and you were sitting with your back to a damp wall. Your hands were tied loosely in front of you with a piece of frayed rope. It was the worst attempt at kidnapping you’d ever experienced.

“Don’t worry. We’ve been in touch with your friends. Once we have the money, we’ll let you go.”

Your eyes had adjusted to the dimness, and it was then that you saw the two Weequay men standing by the doorway. You snorted. “Yeah, I’m not all that worried.”

“Oh yeah?” The one that had originally cornered you in the alley said.

“You two really don’t do this a lot, do you?”

“What are you talking about?” The one you didn’t recognise asked.

“Kidnapping people. You two are clearly new to the game.”

“Meaning what?” The first Weequay asked suspiciously.

You released an aggravated huff. You were too tired to do this, but it was your way out of here. “Meaning if you were regulars at this, you wouldn’t have used my comm to send your demands to my team- I’m assuming that’s what you did, right?” Their anxious glance to one another gave you your answer. You continued, “Ideally, you also would tie my hands behind my back, or, at the very least, you would double check the strength of the knot.”

“Check it.” The one you had seen first ordered his companion.

Perfect. As he kneeled down in front of you, you punched him on the underside of his jaw, and he crumbled to the floor. Acting quickly, you broke your hands out of their restraints, and you fired a stun blast from his blaster to the second one, who had been too taken aback by your actions to get his blaster out in time.

You grabbed your stuff and headed for the door, but it was then you heard the faint sound of someone grunting. You were still pretty out of it so as you moved to dodge the blade, your reaction wasn’t quite fast enough. You inhaled sharply as the knife sliced the part of your forearm that wasn’t protected by your armour. It wasn’t much more than a graze, but you could feel blood slowly secreting from the wound and it stung like hell. You whipped around and fired a stun bolt to the half-collapsed figure, and he fell unconscious.

You opened the door to be greeted by three familiar faces. “Oh. Hey, what brings you all here?”

“We were coming to rescue you.” Omega said as she peered around you to see the two knocked out Weequays.

“I appreciate it, kid. I’ll save you something to do next time.” You dug deep for the smile that graced your face as you touched her shoulder. “Thanks for coming after me, guys.” You said to the group.

“Did they hurt you?” Hunter asked urgently as he scanned your body for any obvious injures.

You shook your head. “Nothing major. It was my fault anyway. I completely switched off.”

“Yeah, what even happened?” Wrecker asked you.

“Don’t really wanna relive the humiliation at the moment, Wrecker.” You took a breath. “We good to go?” You asked Hunter who nodded and the four of you walked back to the Marauder.

--

“Tech, would you mind bringing the medkit down here?” You asked as you boarded the ship and sat down on your bunk. “Also, thanks for helping find me.”

“No thanks are necessary. Although, it was a relatively simple mission; I do not understand how this incident occurred in the first place or how you managed to injure yourself.” Tech said frankly as he pulled the medkit down and started to make his way over to you.

He was right but you were embarrassed enough to be so caught off guard like you were and you didn’t need more reminders. “Tech, what about my general demeanour right now makes you think I’m unaware of that fact?” You said through gritted teeth as you tossed your vambrace with a little too much zest judging by the way it smacked off the wall by your bed. You were doing your best to keep it together. You were determined to not let your mood affect the relationships around you.

“I only meant-”

“Tech.” Hunter warned him off calmly as he took to medpack from him. “Just get the ship in the air, okay?”

“Very well.” Tech said with a nod before he turned back for the cockpit.

Omega and Wrecker followed him.

“Do you want-” Hunter started to offer.

“I can do it myself, it’s a really small cut.” You said touchily as you held your hand out for the case.

Hunter didn’t fight you on it and he was prepared to give you space, so he handed it to you. “I’ll be in the cockpit with the others if you need me.” He risked a step forward and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

You did feel instantly more tranquil after he did that. “I’m sorry.” You uttered quietly as he stepped away.

Hunter tenderly rubbed a thumb across your cheekbone. “Get some rest.”

--

Crosshair and Mayday rounded the corner of the tunnel, and the blood trail came to an end. Both their lights found the dead body of the raider hunkered against the wall.

“He didn’t get far.” Crosshair said wryly.

Mayday kneeled down to examine the body. “Not sure what bothers me more. That he’s wearing armour stolen off my men or that his cohorts just left him here.”

“No point in carrying deadweight.”

Mayday glanced back at Crosshair. “Remind me not to die on your watch.”

Crosshair didn’t pay the comment much mind. He just carried on walking past, but he didn’t get very far as he suddenly came to a complete standstill as he heard the activation click of something hidden in the snowy ground. His best chance was to not move a muscle.

“Pressure mine.” Mayday stated.

“Mm-hmm.” Crosshair nodded.

Mayday brought his light down to examine it. “What were you saying about deadweight?”

“Do you know how to disarm it?”

“I’m not an explosives expert, but since I don’t feel like carrying your body back to the outpost, I guess I’ll give it a shot.” Mayday took off his helmet and put his blaster on the ground as well as his torch- but he kept the light trained on the pressure mine- as he crouched down. He blew away the flakes of snow still covering it. “Hmm. This mine’s a little different than ones I’ve seen before, but I’m pretty sure they’re all the same. Guess we’ll find out soon enough, huh?”

It wasn’t the most comforting of statements for Crosshair to hear, but he’d take any help he could get at this point.

Mayday pulled out his tools and carefully got to work. “I wish I had the proper equipment for this, but the Empire’s ignored all my requests. I’ve learned to improvise though. I guess all clones have had to since the war. Can’t say I ever thought much about the war ending…” he sighed, “… until it did.”

As Crosshair stood still on the mine and waited for Mayday to get him out of it, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander and start thinking about his old squad and how different this mission would be going. Tech would have the suitable equipment. Hunter would’ve known where to step to avoid a situation just like this and he’d have made finding these raiders look easy despite the conditions. And, even if one of them still found themselves in this position, Wrecker would’ve disarmed it with a degree of ease and sophistication people wouldn’t necessarily expect from him. While he would never admit it out loud, he was finding that he missed them. Mayday’s question to him pulled him out of his thoughts.

“What unit were you with?”

That was a question he did not want to answer. “It doesn’t matter.” He just about manged to grind out.

“Humour me. I could use the distraction.”

Well, if he wanted them both to make it out of this, he had to do what Mayday was asking of him. “Clone Force 99.”

“What happened to them?”

“They’re gone.” He replied subduedly. It wasn’t a lie. They were gone and he didn’t know where they had wound up or even if they were all still together and alive. It had been a long time now since that day on the platform on Kamino.

“And here we are, the survivors.” Mayday peered up at Crosshair. “Hmm. Combat troopers stuck babysitting cargo shipments.”

If he let his mind start to drift down that path any more than he already had on occasion, then he’d lose all sense of purpose. He’d lose that purpose he was so sure this Empire would provide. “Mission’s a mission.”

Mayday chuckled sarcastically. “Yeah, I used to say the same thing.” He inspected his work and grabbed his gear before he stood up. “There. That should do it.” As he saw Crosshair start to move, spoke up swiftly. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Don’t pick up your foot yet. Wait until I tell you, then lift it, but real slow like.” He started to walk past him. “I’ll wait around the bend. If I don’t hear a boom, then I’ll know it worked.”

“Glad your confident in your work.”

Mayday put his helmet back on as he continued to walk away. “Oh, I’m confident. I’m just not stupid. Remember, nice and slow. On the count of three. One. Two. Three.”

Crosshair lifted his foot and sighed in relief when there was no explosion.

The two of them made their way out the tunnel into the storm. It was then they saw the light radiating from the raider’s base and they put their plan of attack into action.

--

It had been going well. The enemy bas was destroyed, and they were able to reclaim the cargo. They went down to the area where the cargo had spilled. But it was then when it had started to go wrong as they both discovered what it was they were risking their lives for and what it was Mayday and his men had men had devoted their lives to defending. And… and it wasn’t worth the fight they had put in.

“Gear?” Mayday said aloud as he examined the boxes. “We’ve been risking our lives to recover equipment we could have been wearing this whole time?”

Crosshair nudged a helmet with his foot to expose the design. “It’s not clone trooper gear.” Because why would it be? They were disposable after all.

Mayday picked up a breastplate. “New toys for their shiny new military, and we get the scraps. After all the clones have done, all we’ve sacrificed… We’re good soldiers. We followed orders. And for what?”

Crosshair didn’t have an answer for him. He thought he’d been a good solider but how was that being rewarded? He couldn’t see it. If he had any lingering doubts about where his place in this Empire was, this mission was doing a good job of eradicating them. He, Mayday, and all his fellow clones weren’t valued. They weren’t worth anything to this Empire.

Suddenly, a growing rumbling echoed around them.

“Go!” Mayday ordered as he saw avalanche hurtling towards them from the mountain behind them.

They ran as fast as they could through the deep snow, but they couldn’t outrun it, the best they could do was make it past the rock ahead.

Crosshair didn’t know what happened. One minute both of them were running side by side, and the next Mayday was knocking him past the rock and letting himself get swept up by the snow first which meant he smashed into the rockface.

Crosshair’s helmet was knocked away and the best he could do was take a deep breath as the snow smothered him.

--

Crosshair punched a hand through the top of the snow before his head followed and he breathed in the cold air. His entire body was numb and shivering but he couldn’t dwell on that for too long since he’d caught sight of Mayday’s helmet a few metres ahead. He heaved his way through the waist deep snow towards it and started to desperately dig through to find his companion.

It was after a few moments that Mayday’s face came into view, but his eyes were shut, and his body was limp as Crosshair propped him against the rock behind him. “Mayday? Mayday, wake up!” The faint groan from Mayday’s mouth was enough of an indicator that he was alive… that there was hope for him. “Come on. We have to move.”

Mayday’s eyes flickered open. “Go.” He gasped. “I won’t make it.”

Crosshair didn’t know what possessed him to grab Mayday’s helmet and put it back on his head. All he knew now as he supported Mayday’s body was that it was something he had to do. He had to make sure they both made it back and Mayday would survive. He was going to get them both through the storm.

--

Hunter came back from the cockpit to see everyone else asleep but you. You were perched on the edge of your bunk looking utterly shattered and anything but relaxed. You still had all your gear on, minus the one vambrace you’d taken off to tend to your cut earlier. “Sweetheart, you need to get some sleep.”

“I can’t.” You mumbled, utterly defeated, as you brought your head down to lean against his shoulder.

Hunter rested his head on top of yours. “Tell me what’s wrong?”

“I can’t because I don’t know.” You sighed deeply and pushed your face into the crook of his neck. “I’m just so tired.”

“What can I do?” Hunter asked softly.

“Knock me out until we rendezvous with Phee.” You suggested, only half kidding.

“I’m not sure that’s the best idea, but we can keep it as an option.” Hunter said lightly. “Come on.” He gently nudged you up, ignoring your slight groan of protest. He went to the ground in front of you.

“Okay, but I’m pretty tired, can’t promise I’ll be super enthusiastic.” You attempted levity but your tone was too flat.

“Hush you.” Hunter said with a slight grin. He got to work on taking your boots off before he came to sit next you. He started to delicately take your remaining armour off before he reached for the ends of your first layer. “Arms up.” He prompted tenderly.

Your arms felt heavy, but you did as he asked and he brought it up and over your head, taking care to not let you get caught in the material. “Now what?” You asked drearily.

“Now you lie down and close your eyes.”

“You know, I have tried doing that.” You said drily.

Hunter gave you an imploring look. “Just trust me, okay?”

You did and so you found yourself lying back down.

Hunter enveloped you. He rubbed, light, soothing patterns across your arms and back. He could feel how tense you were. He kept his voice quiet and low to create as restful an environment as he could for you. “I want you to focus on me. Nothing else. Nothing else matters. It’s just you and me here right now. Switch off. Focus on my voice. Focus on my heartbeat. Breathe with me.” He stared taking slow, deep breaths whilst continuing his peaceful touches. “It’s just us. I’m right with you. You don’t have to think about anything else. I love you. I’ll always be right here.”

You did as he asked. His hands were warm- if a little rough- against your arms but years of wielding a blaster would have that effect and you welcomed that feeling. It reminded you of all that he had survived, of what you all had survived and that he was there with you. Deep breaths. He’s here. He’s okay. Everyone’s okay. Shut it off. You thought to yourself. You mirrored his breathing and continued to listen to his words.

As the minutes grew longer and you continued to listen to him, you felt yourself start to relax into him. Your eyes grew heavy, and it was easier to keep them shut this time. How’d you know how to do this so well?

“Growing up with enhanced senses had its difficulties. I had to learn how to manage it.” He felt you nuzzle closer to him, and a deep sigh left your body. “There you go” He murmured as he kept caressing your body. “Keep breathing with me.”

Things felt easier now as you focused on him, on his scent, on the feeling of his hands on your body, on his breathing. And the last thing you remembered was you telling him you loved him and the kiss to the top of your head from him before you drifted off.

--

Crosshair staggered onto the main platform of the outpost and fell to his knees. He tried to be as gentle as he could when it came to putting Mayday down.

“About time you two returned.” Nolan said harshly as he approached the two men.

“He-” Crosshair broke off with an exhausted pant before he removed Mayday’s helmet. “He needs a medic.”

Nolan ignored him. “I see you didn’t retrieve the crates, which means you’ve failed your mission.”

How could that be all he was concerned about? “Did you hear what I said? Help him!” Crosshair begged as he could feel the pain and weariness creeping into his own body, but Mayday needed the help first. He had to be saved.

“Certainly not. That would be a waste of the Empire’s resources.”

“He’ll- He’ll die.” Did they truly not care? And it was then he heard one last pained cough from Mayday before his eyes shut and he fell silent. Crosshair searched for a pulse but found none. No. No. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

“He served his purpose as a soldier of the Empire.” Nolan said unsympathetically.

Crosshair could feel white hot anger start to rise within him. “You- You could have saved him!”

“Perhaps you didn’t hear me. He is expendable, as are you.”

And there it was. Confirmation of the doubt he had been trying so hard to deny. Hunter had been right. They were only ever numbers.

“And if you speak to me again with such disrespect, I’ll see to it you meet a similar fate, clone.” Nolan continued disdainfully.

Crosshair caught the sight of the shadow of one of the ice vultures. He knew they were coming for Mayday. But it shouldn’t be here for him.

“Now, leave him and get back to work… while you’re still useful.” Nolan started to walk back to the shuttle.

Crosshair looked up to the sky and started at the circling bird. He’d thought he’d found a way to survive on his own too but that had changed. He was supposed to have this incredible ability to see things others couldn’t. How had he been so blind for so long? Well, no more. He’d had enough. He wasn’t concerned about the consequences he would face with what he was about to do. All he knew was that he wouldn’t give this Empire anything more.

He got unsteadily got to his feet and trained his blaster on the retreating back on Lieutenant Nolan. “Lieutenant.” He didn’t hesitate and the shot went straight through Nolan’s chest as soon as he turned around. It was after that final act that he finally let the exhaustion and agony take him and his sight went dark.

--

You awoke with a start and sat up. Things had been going well but that was a new development. You rested a hand on your chest as you felt your heart pounding. You shivered. You were cold, both outwardly and inwardly. There was a deep chill in your veins that left you feeling frozen and unsettled. You took a few deep breaths to settle yourself.

“What’s wrong?” Hunter rasped; his voice still thick with sleep as he sat up alongside you and laid his hand on your back.

“I don’t know.” You murmured uneasily as you fiddled with the bandage on your arm. “Something woke me up. There was this cold shadow and all I could feel was fear and pain, but I couldn’t see what from or who.”

“It was just a bad dream.” Hunter comforted. He kissed the back of your shoulder. “Come on, you should try to get back to sleep.”

“Right… a bad dream.” You whispered distantly as you let him lay you back down. Whatever it was that had woken you up, it felt real, it wasn’t just a bad dream, you were experiencing what someone else was going through but you didn’t have a face to put to the feeling and you didn’t know what it could be. You closed your eyes and tried to focus on the feeling of Hunter’s arm draped over you, holding you close, but you couldn't shake the feeling like there was something more to what just happened and so sleep didn’t easily come this time around.

--

Crosshair woozily came around to the sound of equipment beeping. He didn’t recognise where he was, and it was then he heard the muffled sound of someone addressing him.

“Hello, CT-9904. Or do you prefer, Crosshair?”

His name. She was using his name. The woman that was speaking to him seemed to be some kind of doctor. “Where am I?” He asked wearily.

“I’m holding you for observation. Once you’ve healed, the doctor will come for you.”

She was holding a needle to his neck, yet she wasn’t the primary medic? “Who- Who are you?”

“Remain calm. Cooperate and you might survive.” That was all he registered before the needle pierced his skin and he fell into darkness once more.

Next Chapter>

Tagging: @noeasyisnoisy, @fuckoffthanos, @tpwkcalli, @graciexmarvel, @arctrooper69, @nightmonkeysstuff, @brujaporfavor, @flyingkangaroo, @sunkissedclones, @ladytano420, @keep-calm-and-drink-caf, @yyourmotherr, @xxeiraxx, @dragonrider9905, @starwarsnerd111,

[margindoodles2407]

SNOWBALL

----

“And Omega.”

Mayday lifts his head from the 99’s shoulder. His pale face has taken a sudden pain and yearning, and Mayday wonders if he’ll crumble to tears.

Crosshair doesn’t continue, like he did for the previous names. Instead, he sews his lips, discolored purple with the cold, into a thin, trembling line.

Grunting, the older clone tries to push himself further upright against the gritty surface of the rock at his back. Crosshair shifts with him, shaking arms coming to help.

He squeezes his wrist by way of thanks. “Omega? Like Omega Squad?”

The breath hitches, eyes squeezing shut, mouth twisting with such anguish it reminds Mayday of just how young this clone really is.

“No,” comes the broken answer, “Like my daughter.”

Well then. Kriff.

But that name, Omega; it’s a clone name, a designation, he’s certain of it. No nat-born, respectable or not, would use a designation for their offspring.

His question is preceded by a hacking cough, and something icy tells him whatever droplets flies out of his mouth and spatters the inside of his bucket isn’t merely spit. The slender arm curled around his shoulders shifts up to brace a firm hand on his nape, thumb kneading the neck of his blacks.

“Daughter,” he manages to wheeze nevertheless.

The sloping line is bittersweet, the warm glint in dark eyes like stars pin-pricking the void.

“Not my own, unfortunately,” he says, softer than anything Mayday has ever heard in his short life, “She’s a clone, a 99. We found her when she was only a tubie.”

Mayday feels his frozen skin stretch, the stinging pain unable to reason with the shock of this information. A female clone? But why? What purpose did the Kaminoans create her for?

A sudden, hoarse laugh bubbles out of him. “And you adopted her on sight?”

The line grows into a genuine grin, he even sees a sliver of clamped white teeth. “Don’t tell me you’ve looked at a cadet and haven’t wanted to do the same.”

Crosshair has him there. The vod’ike had an annoying tendency of being far too cute for their own good, all chubby-cheeked and curly-haired and big-brown-eyed. It’s one of the implicit reasons the decanting centers and nurseries are, or were, off limits.

Clones with medic training were the sole vode allowed to traverse those forbidden areas, and rumors galore had spread concerning them, especially when a brother returned with softer voice and kinder eyes and gentleness unknown. These traits had been all but hammered out of the clones by the Trainers and Kaminoans; to find it once more in a vod was disconcerting to say the least.

The one cadet Mayday had the pleasure of meeting happened to have fallen out of the vents, smack in the middle of their barracks, taken one look at the astonished and fully kitted clones playing sabacc, then burst into tears right there on the durasteel floor. Five clone troopers, plus the Commander himself, had not been enough to calm him down.

(Now that he actually thinks about it, Mayday’s half certain they’d made it worse.)

Rill, their medic, had to be commed for. It was only after he’d appeared and taken matters into his own hands — literally; he’d scooped up the kihvod into his arms like a sack of rations — that the poor kid had finally calmed down. The cadet had even giggled when Veetch had handed him a smuggled pudding cup.

“Point taken,” huffs Mayday good-naturedly, the memory spreading a warmth throughout his torso.

He lets the comfortable silence stretch between them, lets the cold turbulent winds fill the air with snow. It’s with quite some concern he’s noted a while back that the vod’ika he’s huddled with wears no helmet of his own. When he’d try to insist he wear Mayday’s, he’d received a caustic refusal, too fierce and indignant to be convinced otherwise.

With this worry in mind, Mayday curls closer, slipping an arm around the kid’s back and pulling him close. Crosshair, to his credit, comes willingly, bows his head to rest against Mayday’s bucket, leans so their bodies are pressed against each other.

A thought comes to mind, just as Mayday tastes metal. He taps a nail lightly against the lip of the storm-grey cuirass, a brief chill travelling through his blacks.

“Tell me about her.” Crosshair’s eyes dart, keen as a jai’galaar’s where it pierces through his visor. “Tell me about your daughter, about…Omega.”

Those sharp eyes slide closed, a hissed inhale and exhale following soon after. Briefly, Mayday wonders if he’s injured, but he recognizes the pain strewn on the gaunt face to be the consequence of a wound deeper than flesh and bone.

In a low, haunted, aggrieved voice, Crosshair recounts the few, inadequate days he spent as father to a child dearer than all the stars. And Mayday finds something this vod’ika has lost, something the clones have fought for all their lives.

At last, he finds peace.

SO THAT'S WHERE THAT LINE'S FROM

I AM. THROTTLING YOU (lovingly)

AUGHHHHHHHHHH I AM NOT OKAY

[griffedeloup]

Oh my, this is the first fanfic I see that is including Vetch and Hexx, usually, I see more about Mayday (and fanfics about him are a bit rare too) so I'm very happy to read about them, thank you for writting it 💚

Veetch x reader with the prompt "You're safe now"?? Maybe something where Mayday and his men (including crosshair cuz he will forever deserve a happy ending) are finally rescued from Barton IV. Whether they're saved by Imperials or rebels is up to you.

Safe And Sound

Summary: As a member of the Rebellion, you’re often sent to random places without much notice. Still, you never expected to spend your Name Day on an ice ball in the middle of nowhere. And then the galaxy gives you the greatest Name Day present.

Pairing: Clone Trooper Veetch x F!Reader

Word Count: 2742

Warnings: Some angst, but there's a happy ending

A/N: This made me weepy in some places, just as a warning

Click HERE to be added to my Taglist

Once upon a time, you had the greatest boyfriend.

Veetch was slow to anger and quick with a laugh. Was always there with a willing ear to listen to your troubles, and a strong shoulder when you needed to cry. He used to cup your face between his hands and tell you that it was amazing that he could hold the galaxy in the palms of his hands.

He had always been so gentle with you, careful fingers tracing your lips, the bridge of your nose, your eyelids. It was like he needed to prove to himself that he was capable of being gentle. 

And he loved you. Oh, how he loved you. It was in every touch of his hand against your body, every press of his lips against yours, every whisper of your name in the dead of night.

Your Veetch had been so strong and so steady, that you believed that nothing could hurt him. How could it? Veetch was like a mountain, unyielding in the face of everything thrown at him. 

Yet even the strongest mountains don’t last forever.

When the Purge happened, you had been visiting family. You watched the news while your little brother clung to you. You listened to report after report of how the Clones saved the Republic by putting an end to the treacherous Jedi, and you doubted.

And yet, even then, you still believed in Veetch. He would be fine. He had to be fine. 

He’s Veetch.

And yet, as days turned to weeks and then months, and Veetch never contacted you that hope you carried in your heart began to wither like a rose in the winter.

Part of you hopes that he died in the Purge. It’s a horrible thought, but the idea of your Veetch, your gentle and loving Veetch, becoming an Imperial Solider, or worse a Purge Trooper, makes your heart clench painfully.

“Hey! Ace!” You’re jerked out of your increasingly depressed thoughts about Veetch, to look at the man standing in the doorway, “You got orders,”

“I was told that I have today off,” You counter. It’s your Name Day, after all. You had planned to spend the day mourning lost friends, and remembering what Veetch had done for your last Name Day.

“Yeah, I know.” He smirks at you, “They originally gave me the mission, but I’m sick.”

“You’re full of shit is what you are,”

His smirk widens, “If you wanted me to be nice, you should have agreed to date me.”

“Not even if you were the last man alive,” You snap, before you dismiss him outright, knowing that it will only make him angrier. Whatever, it’s not your job to manage his delicate ego.

You stand and your shoulder roughly bumps his as you walk through the door, “You know, Ace, you might be a good pilot, but you have a shit personality.”

“Good thing I don’t have to pilot my ship with my personality then,” You counter irritably.

“You’re gonna regret not being nicer to the people around you.” He adds, desperate to have the final word.

“I highly doubt that,” You say as you step onto the lift and press the button that will bring you to Ops. The door to the lift shuts before he can say anything to you, and you’re glad for it.

If he had insisted on continuing the argument, you might have become mean. Like, for real mean, and not the indifferent mean that you are normally.

The door slides open several moments later, and you step into Ops. 

Ops is a large room, brightly lit, and filled with various monitors and monitoring stations. There are well over a dozen men and women working in Ops, managing different missions across the Republic. This place, right here, is the heart of the Rebellion.

You move to the side, to keep from being run over by a rust-colored Wookie who has their face pressed against a datapad, and then you slide between a Nautolan and a Mon Cala who seem to be having a deep argument in the middle of the walking path.

You finally make it to the leader of Ops, a Weequay woman who, rumor has it, was once a Jedi. She might very well have been, she’s definitely calm enough for it.

“I’m here boss,”

The woman glances at you out of the corner of her eye, and favors you with a tiny smile, “I know I promised you the day—”

“It’s fine,” You shrug, “What’s the job?”

She watches you for a moment longer, and then nods, “Pick-up, over on Barton IV.”

“That ice ball?” You make a face, “This isn’t another Hoth scenario, is it?”

“No. We didn’t lose a transport this time,” She reassures, “There’s an Imperial Outpost, I want you to grab anything you can from there.”

You quirk a single brow, “Infiltration isn’t really my thing, Boss.”

“I know, we’ve been keeping an eye on it, and I doubt there’s anyone there. The base hasn’t received shipments in about a year. If there are any survivors, rescue them and bring them to one of the neutral space stations.”

This time both of your brows raise, “You sure?”

She nods once, decisively, “Very sure. I won’t leave people to die if I can help it.”

“Well, you’re the boss, Boss. I’ll take a ship registered to Corellia then.”

She nods, “May the Force be with you.”

You sigh, “Boss if you don’t want people to peg you as a Jedi, maybe don’t say shit like that.”

Your Boss just grins, “Who says I don’t want people to know?”

You release a second, heavier, sigh. Then you wave and turn to head toward the lift that will bring you to the hanger. If you’re lucky the Corellia Class freighter will be available. 

Barton IV is, quite possibly, the worst planet Veetch has ever been on. And, after a year of living here, he’s quite sure that he’s allowed to have an opinion on living here. 

It’s cold, there’s never enough food, and he’s fairly certain this place is haunted by the spirits of fallen vod’e.

Though, that might be the hunger talking.

They have managed to turn one of the bunks into a relatively warm place for them to sleep. There are only four of them now, so it’s pretty easy to keep this room warm enough for them to bunk together. 

He wonders if it makes him a bad person that he’s glad that most of his brothers marched ahead already. He wouldn’t want any of them to suffer like he is right now.

Slowly Veetch presses his arm over his eyes. His brothers are already asleep, but he just can’t seem to rest.

Of course, he knows why he can’t sleep.

It’s the day.

Today is her Name Day.

Veetch squeezes his eyes shut under his arms, and her face swims into view. A bright smile on her face, her hands clasped under her chin. Veetch! You didn’t have to do all of this for me!

He misses her.

He misses her warmth. Her smile. The way her eyes crinkled at the corner when she was truly happy. The way she tapped her foot when she was annoyed.

He even missed the way that she would apply her make-up in the morning, and the way that she would drag him to go window shopping on her days off.

But, what he missed more than anything, was how she would light up the moment she saw him. Even if he was tired, sweaty, and in a bad mood. Even if he still had blood on his armor. Even if he felt like a monster.

She would light up, call his name, and everything bad would vanish like smoke on a windy day.

If he was with her today…he would have made her favorite breakfast. Waffles with bacon and a cup of caf. They would cuddle together on the couch while eating breakfast and would watch a bad movie just to make fun of the bad acting. And then, while she got ready for the day, he would clean the kitchen.

Then he would have taken her to the library or to the aquarium, depending on the weather, and she would thread her fingers with his as she tugged him from one thing to the next.

And he would pepper kisses all across her face until she’s flustered and giggling, and her fingers are curled around the material of his shirt.

A muscle in Veetch’s jaw clenches.

Force, he misses her so much. He should have called her. Why didn’t he call her?

It’s a stupid question. He knows why he didn’t call her.

At first, it was because of orders, and then, as time went on, it was because he didn’t— doesn’t— want her to see him like this. He’s not dumb…or blind for that matter. He knows that she damn near hero-worshipped him.

She’d be disappointed if she saw him now. A scruffy five o’clock shadow, curls longer than they’ve ever been in his life and sticking up in random directions, and bruises covering the majority of his body.

He doesn’t look anything like the steady soldier she knew. 

Veetch freezes when the base proximity alarm blares, and he sits up immediately. He’s not the only one. 

Across the room, Mayday rolls off his bunk and lands on his feet, his gaze serious, “Veetch, get the monitors on,”

“Copy that, Commander.”

He rolls off the bed as well and crouches near the wall of monitors, activating each one manually. Each monitor is connected to a camera, not the most high-tech, but it’s the best they can do with what’s available to them.

“Here, Commander. The hanger bay,”

The four men watch as the hanger bay opens wide enough to let the person on the other side slide under the door. They then stand and pull a flashlight out of their flight suit.

The first thing Veetch notices is that the intruder is a woman. Even the winter flight suit she’s wearing doesn’t do much to hide her curves.

“That’s not an insurgent,” Crosshair notes, “They don’t wear orange.”

“They’re also not women,” Hexx adds, before he looks at Mayday, “What do you think?”

Mayday is quiet for a moment, and then he slowly nods, “I think we should go say hello.”

The four men pull their armor on and slowly make their way through frigid, poorly lit, halls until they reach the hanger. And the intruder's voice reaches Veetch’s ears.

Her voice is familiar.

Achingly familiar.

“—Come on, boss. I know what the information said,” The woman sounds annoyed as she opens crates, peers into them, and then shuts them again, “But I’m telling you, there’s nothing here.”

There’s silence for a moment, she’s likely listening to someone on the other end, and the four men step into the hanger properly.

Veetch’s heart aches when he sees her. He’d know her anywhere, wearing anything. 

She sighs, “Don’t you Ace me, you irritating little cabbage,” She snaps, “I’m well aware that everyone wants to think that the Empire is made of incompetent dunderheads, but obviously they’re not because there’s nothing here.”

She’s silent again.

“What?! No! I’m not defining dunderhead for you, you have a computer, look it up!”

She straightens, and her posture changes.

“Yeah, it’s gonna be real professional when I get back to base and shove my boot so far up your ass that you’ll be tasting them. I’m closing the comm now. Don’t call me, I’ll call you.”

Veetch watches as she irritably presses a button and shoves her comm in a pocket, and the tiniest smile crosses his face. Her temper has gotten worse since the last time he saw her, she’s adorable.

Hexx swears as he accidentally kicks a metal bar, and she whips around, the beam of her flashlight immediately finding them. There’s silence for a moment, and then she sets her fist on her hip, “And who are you supposed to be, knock-off mummies?”

The silence continues for a moment, and then Veetch releases a snort of laughter. He has to quickly mute his vocoder, but he’s not the only one. Hexx is also shaking with laughter, and Mayday is shaking his head. 

If he wasn’t wearing his helmet, Veetch would put credits on there being an amused smile on his brother’s face.

“I remember you being nicer, princess,” The Commander says.

She’s silent for a moment, and then the beam of light drops to Mayday’s chest, and a wide range of emotions cross what little of her face can be seen. Though her expression finally settles on sheepish embarrassment as she pushes her goggles up, “Mayday,” The light moves across Crosshair, and then over to Hexx, “Hexx, and—” The beam of light finally lands on him, “—Veetch.”

He knows he didn’t imagine the pause before his name. And, as he pulls his helmet off, her pretty eyes linger on his face for a moment, “Hey there, sunshine.”

Her lips curl up in a pleased smile, “Hey yourself.” Her gaze lingers for a moment longer, and then moves back to Mayday, “Nice place you have here. Digging the abandoned Haunted House ambiance.”

Mayday smiles at her, “What brings you to this part of the galaxy?”

Her gaze slides across the four men for a moment, and then she glances around at the worn-down hanger, “Well, I’ve come to bring you to safety if you want.”

“You…what?” Crosshair sounds stunned, “NatBorns don’t care about clones.”

“You’d be surprised at how untrue that is.” She shrugs, and slides her flashlight back in her pocket, “My ship is just outside. Are you coming or aren’t you?”

Veetch is moving before he thinks about it.

He’d follow her anywhere, honestly, but he’d also sell his arm to get off of this planet.

The Space Station you bring the four survivors to is technically a Neutral Space Station, but it’s also a known hub for members of the Rebellion. You should have brought them to a different space station.

Your boss is going to have your head when she finds out.

But…well…it��s Veetch. It’s Veetch and Hexx and Mayday and they’re family. How could you go anywhere else?

You pace in front of Veetch’s room, trying to work up the nerve to go and see him. You’ve already visited Mayday and Hexx, you’ve even visited Crosshair to introduce yourself and make sure he didn’t need anything.

But now that you’re standing in front of Veetch’s room, you find yourself anxious.

What if things have changed? They haven’t for you. You love him as much today as you did a year ago. But what if he doesn’t feel the same anymore?

You take a deep breath to steel your nerves, and you knock, lightly, on the door. You don’t wait for a response as you push the door open and step into the room.

He’s thinner than you remember, but he’s still Veetch. And you kind of like the wild curls, you wonder if you can convince him to keep them.

Though, the stubble has to go.

“Veetch,” His name is a sigh on your lips, and his dark eyes find you immediately. Something softens in his gaze, and it’s like nothing has changed. You cross the room to him and lightly sit on the side of the bed, your fingers carding through his curls.

“You look beautiful,” Veetch murmurs, “More beautiful than I remember.”

“I’m the same as I ever was,” You reply, “I like your curls.”

“Maybe I’ll keep them,” He reaches up to cup your face, and you notice that his hands are trembling.

You press your hand over his, “How are you feeling?”

“I keep thinking that this is a dream,” He admits, “That I’ll wake up and you’ll be gone.”

Slowly you lean in and press your forehead against his, “Oh, Veetch.” You murmur, “Please don’t fret. You’re safe now.”

His hands press firmer against your face, “Cyar’ika, do you still love me?”

“Silly man, I never stopped.”

“Good,” He leans in and catches your lips with his own. “I love you too.” 

And, as you lose yourself in his lips and his gentle touch, it’s like the last year never happened. You know that there’s a lot that needs to be done, but for now, you’re content with just being with your Veetch.

@imabeautifulbutterfly

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@dukeoftheblackstar

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@maniacalbooper

[feralferrule]

Veetch interrupting: Would you like to dance with me?

Hexx: What happened to "we're on a mission"?

they ask Choy's Twilek friend for a white feather from her fontage.

Y/N

?

( @foxwithadarkside )

Kriffsake, Tumblr *blocked* that image😂🫣😂 the violence, won’t someone think of the children🤡

Alright! where were we?

Ah yes Mayday’s guys. Well of course, sweet boys!

Choy watched Rory lead Hardcase onto the dance floor and felt very proud of herself. They were a perfect match, that girl was looking a little lonely and Hardcase was sweating through his oil just looking at her. Choy felt a tap on her shoulder.

“Choy,” her Twilek friend, Una, said, “Zehr are sum men whiss, how do you say, beeerrds, who would like to tok weeth os,” she said in her heavy Ryl accent and pointing at two of the hairiest clones Choy had ever seen. One looked very stern and like he was on duty, the other looked, well, maybe drunk?

The one with longer hair pulled back in a knot and wearing hot pants and heels acted all business, which made her smirk, “Excuse me, ladies, could-“

“Would you like to dance with me?!” the shaggier clone with a cowl over his bare chest interrupted his brother, shoving him in the face. His eyes were heavy and dreamy as he drew closer to Choy and he completely ignored the other’s growl.

“Hey, what happened to “we’re on a mission”?” The serious brother complained, swatting the other’s hand off his face.

Choy smirked at their awkwardness. They seemed like harmless if somewhat basic clones. She smiled at them.

“We were hoping we could ask a favor,” said Mr Serious, looking at Una. “our commander needs one of your feathers, ma’am.”

Choy looked up at Una. “Zere eez one zat is loose and ‘as been poking me. Choy, could you ‘elp me pull it out?” She leaned over and pointed to the offending feather. Choy steadied her head with one hand and pulled the feather out with the other. She handed it to Una who gave it to Hexx.

Choy turned to Veetch, giving him a glance up and down. He was rough looking but had kind eyes and arms that looked really nice to be held by.

“Yes, I would like to dance with you,” she said, and offered her hand. He was about to take her hand in his when Hexx lowered his arm like a boom in front of him.

“We are still on a mission for Commander Mayday, Veetch, stay focused.”

“Awww, but she said yes, Hexx,” Veetch protested as Hexx steered him away from Choy.

“Thank you, ladies,” Hexx said to Una and Choy. He marched Veetch into the fog and lasers and throng of bodies. Veetch waved back at Choy who blew him a kiss. The last thing she saw was Veetch turn to Hexx excitedly to tell him what she just did.

The ol’ stolen tag list, hopefully complete:

@ghostymarni @lonewolflupe @wings-and-beskargam @eclec-tech @fiveminutetrash @crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf @feral-ferrule @ladylucksrogue @nika6q @skellymom @vimse @gargothnightzine @sunshinesdaydream @noblelightfighter @returnofthepineapple @freesia-writes @covert1ntrovert @vikushat @nocturius8015ficore @mamuzzy @risavulpes @niobiumao3 @sazzujazzu @blackseafoam @thora-sniper @gars-weaponeer

[ashes-2-ashes57cba]

The Bad Batch: Valkyrie

Episode 11: The Outpost

*adla-vod: same brother/sister (roughly translates to twin), Mando'a warnings: things kind of skip around, but other than that... I am so sorry

Crosshair followed Nolan and the assigned squad out into the cold. The entire base looked desolate as harsh, snowy winds swept through. The only other living being was a vulture circling high above them. The only relief, from the winds at the very least, was when they entered the main command post; it was dim and dark compared to the blinding white snow outside. Only a few load-lifting droids were active. Nolan cleared his throat—half expecting a more proper greeting—and made his way over to one.

“Where is your supervisor?” the lieutenant asked.

“You must be our reinforcements,” a voice answered, appearing from behind the giant stack of crates. He was a clone wearing scraps of patchwork armor and sporting a scowl behind his unkempt beard. “We expected you 36 rotations ago. Did you get lost?” he questioned. Crosshair felt the corners of his mouth raise a little.

“We work on the Empire’s schedule, trooper, not yours,” Nolan excused, taking half a step forward.

“It’s Commander, Lieutenant,” the clone said.

“Well, Commander,” Nolan started with a sass Crosshair found irritating, “your orders were to guard and protect this facility and its cargo, yet this outpost is grossly unguarded. Where are the rest of your men?” The two had followed the Commander behind the crate stack toward the warm glow of a small heater, where only two other scrappy clones were huddled.

��Dead,” the bearded clone answered his question. “Hexx, Veetch, and I, we’re all that’s left,” he gestured toward the huddled clones, leaning back and crossing his arms. Crosshair could only feel a little pity.

“Your failings will be dealt with later,” Nolan was indifferent. “For now, I am in charge here until the cargo is transported.”

“I feel safer already,” the commander said with obvious sarcasm. Crosshair felt the remnants of a smirk again and flushed it down. 

“Look here, clone, you speak to me with respect,” the lieutenant seethed.

“In my experience, respect is something to be earned.” The commander reminded him of Captain Rex—he seemed so far away now. He waited for Nolan’s response.

“Yet the Empire assigned you to this desolate rock, where you let the majority of your squad get killed.” It was a low blow. The unwavering clone raised a brow and glanced at his remaining men.

“Tell me, Lieutenant, how many missions have you commanded?” he asked. Crosshair looked to Nolan for his response. He only lowered his chin and looked awkwardly to the side; he had a feeling the lieutenant lacked any real experience. “That’s what I thought. Boys, why don’t you help the new boss get situated?” he nodded before leaning over to Hexx and Veetch. The pair almost reluctantly stood up and brushed past Nolan, who gave the clone a final glare before following the others. Crosshair watched him go with amusement. 

“You, uh, know the lieutenant well?” the bearded clone asked Crosshair, his tone lowered once more. 

“For about two hours,” Crosshair replied, turning his attention. The clone scoffed, bringing the small heater closer between them.

“Two hours too long, I bet,” he replied. Crosshair only hummed in response. “So, what’d you do to get stuck with this mission?” 

He turned against his team. 

He had to leave his twin sister behind. 

He hunted them down and they hurt him.

Even when they gave him a chance to come with them, he turned away from them—from her. 

“Just lucky, I guess,” he answered; his recurring thoughts of Specter were beginning to be a problem. The clone chuckled and sighed.

“The name’s Mayday,” he introduced, looking at the sniper to reciprocate. He hadn’t said his name in a long time. 

“Crosshair.” 

“Welcome to The Outpost,” Mayday welcomed, going over to grab his damaged helmet and blaster. “I’ll give you a lay of the land.” 

The land was laying in a desolate grave, ready to die. But Crosshair thought Mayday wasn’t that bad; he was a reg for sure, but had grown jaded, and Crosshair could see why; though at this point, the line between his own mutated kin and the regs had been long since disregarded. 

It was a poorly defended outpost—not just from the lack of guards—with the raiders able to simply sneak in during the heavy storm. Mayday went west while Crosshair took to an eastern vantage point, hoping to cut off the intruders. Hexx was already down by the time he made it up to the watchtower. 

“Three raiders are heading towards the shuttle at zero-one-five,” someone down the line announced. Crosshair peered down the scope of his rifle, opting to lower his antennae to get more accurate thermal readings; he tracked a figure running towards the shuttle with another soldier hot on his trail. Just as the raider turned the corner, using the shuttle for cover, it exploded in a fiery blast.

Crosshair hissed in pain as the brightness stung his eyes and his ears rang from the overloaded sensors in his helmet. He threw it off to the side and rubbed his eyes. 

“You don’t need the helmet,” a voice whispered. He didn’t have time to argue with the phantom voice and raised his rifle once more, only using his own eyes and skills to take aim, tracking his target through the smoke. “Now.” 

He fired the shot, hitting his mark but not killing them. He blinked away the strain from his eyes and looked around, not finding anyone or anything that could have spoken to him. He was equally disappointed as he was relieved: it had sounded like Specter. She was the only one to tell him to train without the assistance his helmet gave him. She was the only one who knew when and how to fire a long distance shot without one. But she wasn’t here. He didn’t want her here in the frozen hell. 

Crosshair shoved his helmet on and went down to investigate the damage. 

The burning shuttle gave him enough warmth and enough light to see the splatter of blood where he had struck the raider. The sniper followed the trail past the edge of the outpost and into the snow, down a small ledge and into a crevice leading to a dark cave. He turned on his flashlight, shining the light into the cave where the blood trailed further down. Snow shuffled above him—he turned and took aim. It was only Mayday.

“A snow skiff took off down the western ridge,” he informed. “The rest must’ve fled on foot into the mountain pass.”

“Wrong,” refuted Crosshair. Mayday joined him in the crevice and saw the blood in the snow.

“So that’s how they snuck past our defenses,” he said, glumly.

Mayday placed Veetch’s helmet next to Hexx’s in the main storage complex, where other helmets of the rest of Mayday’s squad were lined up. Crosshair couldn’t mourn those losses, but he understood Mayday’s; he too was the last of his team. A sour taste filled his mouth when Nolan appeared, aggravated.

“What are you doing just standing around?” he hissed. “Those raiders stole two crates of cargo during that attack. Send your troops to retrieve it,” he ordered. Crosshair wanted to laugh at the lieutenant’s incompetence, curious as to how he thought they’d be able to accomplish that task. 

“Hexx and Veetch were killed in the ambush,” Mayday growled, slowly turning to face the officer, “we don’t have the manpower or gear for a mission beyond the perimeter. Especially just to recover a few crates.”

“It’s not up to you to determine what is of value to the Empire,” Nolan spat. 

“What a posterboy,” a voiceless thought echoed in the sniper’s head. It wasn’t his own, but he knew Specter would have mumbled the same thing.

“Then I need all your men for this mission,” Mayday offered.

“And leave this outpost vulnerable to another attack?” the lieutenant asked, incredulously, “I think not. This task falls to you two, and you two alone. Recover the cargo. Is that clear?” Mayday eyed him, staring him down and reluctantly answering—

“Yes, Lieutenant.”

The pair carefully followed the trail of blood from earlier deep into the cave until they came across the cold, dead, body of one of the raiders.

“He didn’t get far,” Crosshair commented.

“Not sure what bothers me more. That he’s wearing armor stolen off my men, or that his cohorts just left him here,” said Mayday, having examined the body.

“No point in carrying deadweight,” Crosshair shrugged. Mayday glanced over his shoulder at him.

“Remind me not to die on your watch,” he said, his tone uneasy. Crosshair ignored his discomfort and ventured on, peering through the dark with Mayday eventually following close behind. The ground above them rumbled, dislodging loose dirt and shaking the ground. “Maybe it’s just the ice,” Mayday suggested. Crosshair swallowed his anxiety and walked on until he felt something shift under his feet; a mechanical click sounded and he froze, knowing what it was but not daring to even move his mouth.

“Pressure mine,” Mayday explained, coming around. Just as he thought—he hummed in response. “What were you saying about deadweight?” Mayday teased as he knelt down.

“Do you know how to disarm it?” Crosshair asked, ignoring his question. 

“I’m no explosives expert,” he took off his helmet, “but since I don’t feel like carrying your body back to the outpost, I guess I’ll give it a shot.” Mayday blew away the surrounding snow, revealing the rest of the mine, humming with concern as he analyzed it. “This mine’s a little different than ones I’ve seen before, but I’m pretty sure they’re all the same. Guess we’ll find out soon enough.” Crosshair let him talk and pull out some tools. “I wish I had the proper equipment for this, but the Empire’s ignored all my requests. I’ve learned to improvise though. I guess all clones have had to since the war.” He gently pounded L-shaped rods near the pressure mine, attempting to keep it in activated stasis. Crosshair knew this trick; Wrecker had once attempted to do the same in practice, but his lack of patience resulted in the mock explosive going off and covering him with a powdered dye that wouldn’t wash out for days. Specter had laughed about it for weeks. 

“Can’t say I ever thought much about the war ending,” Mayday sighed, “until it did.” Crosshair shared the same thought once. “What unit were you with?” The question caught him off guard.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said. 

“Humor me. I could use the distraction.”

“...Clone Force 99.” Mayday paused. 

“I’ve heard of you guys. You were the ones with the girl?” he wondered. Crosshair dared to nod.

“My twin sister.” Mayday looked up at him, surprised, before continuing. 

“What was she like?” he asked.

What was she like? 

She was spirited and clever. Her talents were unique, and her skills couldn’t be matched. She mirrored Crosshair, and at the same time, was his opposite.

Truly twins.  

Last he knew, his silence had broken her already fragile heart, and undoubtedly snapped whatever of their bond was left.

Last he knew he imagined she wanted him dead.

He didn’t blame her. 

“Crosshair?” Mayday snapped him out of his thoughts. Crosshair thought of an actual answer to give him.

“Specter was special.”

“Where is she now?”

“She’s… gone. Along with the rest of them,” he said. 

“And here we are, the survivors.” Mayday sat up again, having finished pounding the rods into place. “Combat troopers stuck babysitting cargo shipments.”

“Mission’s a mission,” Crosshair repeated the mantra. Mayday actually chuckled.

“Yeah, I used to say the same thing.” Crosshair wondered how long it would be before he ended up like him. “There. That should do it,” Mayday affirmed, standing up and grabbing his helmet. Crosshair went to step off the pressure mine until he was stopped. 

“Woah, woah, woah! Don’t pick up your foot yet. Wait until I tell you, then lift it, but real slow like,” Mayday instructed, walking past Crosshair. “I’ll wait around the bend. If I don’t hear a boom, then I’ll know it worked.” He likened the commander to Wrecker.

“Glad you’re confident in your work,” he mumbled after huffing out a laugh.

“Oh, I’m confident. I’m just not stupid.” Crosshair could hear Mayday’s voice change as he turned the corner. “Remember, nice and slow. On the count of three.” Crosshair took a breath. He didn’t expect to die here, he trusted Mayday’s work enough.

“One.” But the thought did occur that if he died, no one would know or care. He could make peace with that.

“Two.” But Specter was still out there. She had to be.

“Three.” He squeezed his eyes shut and slowly lifted his foot, holding his breath. There was no explosion. He breathed a sigh of relief before making sure to step around the mine, continuing forward with Mayday trailing behind. 

Crosshair wanted to lie in the snow for a while; he was tired from the mission and the blaster fight. He admitted to himself that shooting those explosives to bury the raiders, while effective, was not exactly the smartest decision. Rocks and snow had tumbled down, stopping the fight, but Mayday and Crosshair still had to get up. 

“Let’s load the cargo and get out of here,” Mayday said, grunting as they got up and assessed the crates that had fallen. The pair carefully went down the slope, investigating the contents that had fallen, taking off their helmets. Crosshair stopped with chills running down his spine… and it wasn’t from the snow.

“Gear?” Mayday questioned. “We’ve been risking our lives to recover equipment we could have been wearing this whole time?” Crosshair used his foot to turn a newly minted helmet up from the powder. 

“It’s not clone trooper gear,” he added. Mayday knelt down, lifting a cuirass and turning it in his hand. 

“Right. New toys for their shiny new military, and we get the scraps.” Crosshair turned to the commander, watching his arm slowly drop the cuirass. “After all the clones have done, all we’ve sacrificed… we’re good soldiers. We followed orders. And for what?” The sniper let the question resonate. ‘Good soldiers follow orders’ was always his mantra, but he had never considered that there was anything beyond the phrase. 

A deep rumbling disrupted them, they turned their attention to the source; the mountain peak had disappeared behind a cloud of fast approaching snow. An avalanche. 

“Go!” Mayday shouted. Crosshair didn’t think twice, he shoved on his helmet and ran as fast as he could. He didn’t dare look back, only towards a small rock outcropping that would be their only chance of protection, if they could even make it that far. The snowline was advancing too fast, however, Crosshair could see the beginnings of powder race past his feet. 

“Look out!” Mayday warned, shoving the sniper out of the way of the rock outcropping before he was slammed against it by the force of the avalanche. Crosshair tumbled out of the way, his helmet lost in the process, ending up on his back and gasping as the snow came upon him. He quickly used his hands to make a pocket of air around his mouth and face before it all went dark. 

A hand broke through the packed snow. Another followed. Crosshair gasped as he clawed his way free, shivering. He looked around at the landscape—somehow more desolate than before—finding the rock outcropping barely sticking out in the snow. The sniper shivered again and rubbed his hands together before trudging through the snow to find his comrade. 

He made it to the rock soon enough, but upon seeing no sign of the commander, he began to dig. His fingers—everything—were cold, but he couldn’t stop. 

She wouldn’t forgive him.

He dug harder, eventually finding Mayday, who had also lost his helmet—though he found it only a few feet away. 

“Mayday,” he said, trying to get his attention and digging him out some more. “Mayday, wake up,” he pleaded. Crosshair hoisted him up out of the snow, the commander groaned. “Come on. We have to move,” he placed him against the rock. Mayday groaned again.

“Go,” he said, panting, “I won’t make it.” Crosshair looked around, peering through the storm, shuddering at the cold. 

She wouldn’t forgive him. 

He reached over and put Mayday’s helmet on him before hoisting his arm over his shoulder. Together they slowly but surely marched—or rather dragged themselves— through the snow, creating distance between themselves and the peak of the mountain. Mayday slipped from his grasp, groaning as he hit the snow. Crosshair hoisted him up again and kept going. The sniper used his beloved rifle as a walking stick, pulling both of them along against the wind until a rocky ledge came into view. It would have to do, it blocked only some of the harsh winds. Crosshair set Mayday down against the rock, collapsing next to him and trying to huddle for warmth. 

He was cold. His teeth chattered. Mayday weakly curled into his side, Crosshair reciprocated. He considered this could be purgatory…he considered not trying to redeem himself… but she wouldn’t forgive him. 

Crosshair could feel the storm stop at the first sign of light, feel the sun behind his tightly closed eyes. He couldn’t bear to open them, he felt they were frozen shut. Mayday still clung to his side, slowly breathing. 

“Cross…” a voice called out in the distance. He wanted to ignore it. “Crosshair!” it called again, insistent. He pried his eyes open, squinting from the morning light reflecting off the snow, adjusting to a figure in the distant horizon. Brown hair and a cream colored dress billowed in the easy wind. 

Specter. 

He blinked again. She was wearing her armor, sans her helmet, jogging closer; her hair was in its familiar braided halo.

“C’mon we’re almost there,” she encouraged with a breezy smile. He looked up at her as she approached, dazed. “Don’t you quit on me now, adla-vod.” The snow crunched under her boots before she stopped, catching her breath and putting her hands on her hips. Specter looked down the path, considering it. 

“Specter,” he breathed out her name.

“Yeah, I think we can make it,” she nodded, not hearing him. Crosshair watched as she knelt down, meeting his eyes with her own sparkling brown-green. “Let’s go, Cross, we can get there together.” He could only shiver in response. Specter reached out and placed her hand on his shoulder. 

He could feel it. She was real; she was here and smiling gently at him like she always did. “I’m not going without you.”

Crosshair blinked hard again as a breeze blew across his face. She had changed. The white cream dress with a slit exposing her leg and a sweetheart neckline; silver, lace-like armor covered her collar, extending past her shoulders, as well as covering her hips. She donned silver boots, a belt, and arm braces. Metallic, rose-gold was sprayed in a band across her eyes like a mask. Her loose hair fell past her shoulders, framing her resolute expression. 

“Specter?” he tried again. His voice was hoarse. He tried reaching out to her. 

“Get up, Crosshair.” 

He blinked. She was gone. Mayday grumbled next to him, stirring awake, but barely so. Crosshair gathered his strength, he knew who to thank for it; he got up, just as she told him to. 

Mayday used the rifle as a crutch while slung over Crosshair’s shoulder. He had a taste of hope, and it was enough to lead the march back to the outpost. He was sure he had only dreamt of his sister appearing to him, in that white dress of hers, but as they walked, Crosshair thought he glimpsed her walking ahead of them several times: he blamed his eyes, still strained from the explosion. 

Yet a piece of him still felt it was all real.

What was certainly real were the small cargo shuttles flying overhead and cresting over the ridge. The outpost was not too far. But Mayday’s pace had slowed significantly. 

He had to keep going.

They finally made it back; he could see troopers loading the crates onto the shuttles, Nolan cataloging each one. Mayday’s pace slowed again.

“We’re almost there,” Crosshair promised him. Just like she had. 

They were spotted by a few of the troopers, they stopped their work and gathered around to watch them approach… but none of them stepped over the line to help them. Nolan pushed his way through, ordering them to go back to work by the time Crosshair and Mayday met them in the middle. The latter collapsed, slipping off the crutch-rifle and from Crosshair’s grasp, groaning as he hit the ground. Crosshair joined him on his knees, catching his breath.

“About time you two returned,” the lieutenant scolded, ignoring their condition. 

“He,” Crosshair panted and pried Mayday’s helmet off, “he needs a medic.” 

“I see you didn’t retrieve the crates, which means you’ve failed your mission,” Nolan said dismissively. 

“Did you hear what I said? Help him!” Crosshair practically begged. 

“Certainly not. That would be a waste of the Empire’s resources,” the lieutenant sneered, shaking his head.

“He’ll… he’ll die,” Crosshair said—not just for Nolan to hear. Behind him, Mayday coughed, groaned, and held his stomach; Crosshair turned around in time to see him become limp. His cold fingers went to his cold neck.

A minute too late. 

“He served his purpose as a soldier of the Empire.” Lieutenant Nolan’s monologue offered no comfort. All of Crosshair’s remaining energy turned into rage: he knew who to thank for it.

“You could have saved him,” he refuted, trembling. 

“Perhaps you didn’t hear me,” Nolan towered over him. “He is expendable, as are you. And if you speak to me again with such disrespect, I’ll see to it you meet a similar fate, clone.” Crosshair lowered his head, clenching his teeth, not from the cold. The shadow of the circling vulture passed by, he looked at Mayday, now lifeless. 

Their fates were intertwined and sealed.

“Now, leave him and get back to work… while you’re still useful,” Nolan commanded before making his leave. Crosshair looked up at the vulture now, remembering what Mayday had said about its resilience. A gentle hand on the side of his face turned his attention.

Specter.

He gazed at his twin with the rose-gold mask, in her pale dress and silver armor. She knew he was tired, she knew he was upset, she knew he was hopeless.

She knew what needed to be done.

He had the resolve to do it.

They mirrored each other, standing up in unison. Their hands met and she guided his arm up. In sync they faced forward.

“Lieutenant,” they called. Nolan stopped and slowly turned in curiosity. He only just realized a weapon was pointed at him before the blaster fired, hitting him square in the chest, killing him instantly. Crosshair staggered, falling to his knees. Specter was gone and Mayday’s body remained. He was done.

“Hey, drop it!” a distant trooper called. Crosshair could barely comply, he drifted forward and collapsed, exhausted. 

Specter was there on the other side of the darkness, waiting for him. He went to take her outstretched hand, expecting her to lead him to whatever hell he deserved.

“You’re not done yet,” she said instead. 

He woke up somewhere. His head spun and his vision was blurred, everything echoed in his ears.

“Hello, CT-9904,” a voice introduced. Not Specter, another woman. “Or do you prefer Crosshair?” she asked. He didn’t answer. Pain was everywhere.

“Where am I?” he wondered, panting from the energy used to stay awake. 

“I’m holding you for observation. Once you’ve healed, the doctor will come for you,” the woman answered simply. 

“Who-” there was a flicker of someone behind her “-who are you?”

“Remain calm,” the woman replied, loading a syringe and sticking it in the base of his neck. “Cooperate and you might survive,” she advised. 

He ignored her and looked at his twin, who stood just over her shoulder.

She nodded.

He let the darkness overtake him. 

[corellianhounds]

WIP Wednesday

I’ve been writing a bunch of ideas with clone characters the past few months— This is a scene from a self-contained fic set on Barton IV six months prior to its appearance in TBB, following Mayday and his crew as they investigate a suspicious crash in the mountains. Let’s intro some original characters 👀

“Looks like six klicks east, in the ravine,” Veetch said over his shoulder. “Image is fuzzy but it looks like a ship.”

“What kind?”

“Unknown sir. Never seen its like.”

Commander Mayday’s frown dug in deeper as he assessed their readouts. Barton IV wasn’t bereft of sentients, but he wasn’t aware of any with a significant starcraft presence. If even the gearhead couldn’t identify it, they could have a problem.

“Civilian?”

Barak scoffed. “Who's out here joyriding a little thing like that in the mountains?” he asked. “I’m surprised it wasn’t shredded on the Teeth.”

“They were coming straight for us,” Veetch said. “Civilian or not, someone knew we were here. There’s no other marker to identify for a hundred miles.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Mayday said. “Could be the Empire just happened to find the best flight path locals already knew about. Void knows they’re not going to make it harder for themselves to get in or out of here.”

“Wish they’d get us out of here…”

“Barak, Hollis, you’re with me. The rest of you lock down after we’ve passed the perimeter. If we’re not back within twelve hours, Hexx is in charge.”

“Aye sir.”

“Hear that, Hexx? You just got provisionally promoted.”

“Hoo-rah.”

[eclec-tech]

This hits hard.

5화

[vodika-vibes]

Hexx x reader with the prompt "it's okay if you fall asleep" (as in the reader is saying that to him) I personally find it crazy that no one has ever written fics for Hexx and Veetch

Blanket Of White

Summary: It’s the first snowfall of the winter, and while you’ve always loved the snow, you know Hexx doesn’t.

Pairing: Clone Trooper Hexx x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1044

Warnings: the Reader called ad'ika, mentions illnesses and amutations

A/N: So, Wookieepedia says that Hexx's personality is his height, so most everything about him is made up. I hope you like it! I made a divider specifically for Hexx, lol.

Click HERE to be added to my taglist

You step out of the kitchen, the scent of the stew you’ve been lovingly making since morning trailing behind you like a delicious-smelling ghost, your gaze searching the living room to find the man who’s been sharing your home for the better part of a year.

Hexx, a clone trooper who had been stationed on Barton IV with his battalion, was one of only a handful of survivors. The other survivors (Commander Mayday, Lieutenant Veetch, and Crosshair) have already been folded into a Rebellion cell.

Unfortunately, Hexx doesn’t have that option.

In truth, his injuries had been relatively minor, all things considered. The problem wasn’t the injury, the problem was the cold. His armor had been damaged, and he got frostbite…which went untreated until it developed into gangrene. 

Hexx’s entire left leg needed to be amputated.

And while that, normally, wouldn’t have stopped him the fact remains that he’s in almost constant pain and requires a cocktail of painkillers just to be able to function.

It won’t be like this for much longer, though. You’ve finally managed to make enough money to get your hands on a bacta tank. A couple of weeks in that, and all of his pain will be gone, and he can join his Commander.

Your gaze sweeps the room one more time, and then you catch a glimpse of Hexx standing in your sunroom. You watch him for a moment, trying to determine where his headspace is, and then you join him in the sunroom.

“Hexx?”

His dark eyes are locked on the snow falling from the sky, his fists are clenched so tightly that his knuckles are white, and tension runs through his frame.

You don’t dare get closer to him.

“Hexx,” You repeat, your voice gentle, “Dinner still needs to simmer for a couple of hours. Why don’t you come away from here?”

He doesn’t move, and he shows no indication that he’s heard you at all.

You frown and turn to the panel next to the door. You press a few buttons, and the sun shades lower over the windows, plunging the room into darkness, the only light coming from the main house.

The sudden change jolts Hexx from whatever trance he seems to have fallen into, and he turns his surprised gaze from the shuttered windows onto you.

“Ah,” He tilts his head and turns to you fully, “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I noticed,” Your smile is kind though, and you offer him your hand, “Come away from here, Hexx.”

His gaze falls to your hand, and then he steps over to you and takes your hand into his much larger one, almost immediately threading your fingers together. Hexx’s hand is freezing, and you place your free hand over the top of his, trying to offer him some warmth.

“Was there something you needed, ad’ika?” Hexx asks as he allows you to tug him into the main part of the house.

“I just wanted to let you know that dinner still needs to simmer for a couple of hours.” You guide him over to the couch and lightly push him to sit down, and then you toss a thick fuzzy blanket over him and tuck it around him.

He releases a huff of laughter, “I’m not cold, ad’ika.”

“Forgive me if I don’t believe you,” You counter, as you seriously consider getting a wool hat and pulling it on his head, and maybe a scarf.

Your thoughts must be written on your face because Hexx laughs and tugs his arms free from the blanket so he’s able to tug you to the couch next to him. Then he pulls you so that your face is pressed against his neck.

“Thank you for worrying about me.”

You sigh and snake your arms around his neck, “Of course I worry about you. That’s what I do. I worry.” Your arms tighten around his neck, “I’m going to miss you when you leave.”

“We still have plenty of time left together.” Hexx points out logically, “I’m not leaving just yet.”

You shrug and pull away from him, “But you will. It’s my lot in life, to help you all get back into fighting shape, and then get left behind and forgotten.”

“I don’t think anyone could ever forget you,” Hexx counters dryly, “ad’ika, you gave me a daily sponge bath when I was in so much pain I couldn’t move. I could give you my firstborn child, and it wouldn’t be payment enough.”

“Sure, sure.” You wave your hand dismissively, even as you eye him critically. He still isn’t really himself, the snow is not doing wonders for his mental state, but he seems present enough for the time being.

You’re surprised when his arms tighten around your waist, “What if I don’t want to leave?”

“...beg pardon?”

“Well, you’re all alone out here. And it’s not really safe with the state of the galaxy, and wouldn’t it be better if you had someone around to protect you all of the time?” Hexx asks, his eyes almost pleading with you.

You sigh softly and lightly card your fingers through his hair. Then an amused smile lifts your lips as he lays his head on your chest, his ear over your heart. Hexx’s eyes close and your heart swells with fondness.

None of the other men you’ve cared for have ever been so affectionate with you.

“It’s okay if you fall asleep.” You whisper to him.

“‘M not tired,” He replies, though his body does sag heavily against you, so you doubt the truth in his words.

“We can talk about what comes after during dinner,” You soothe, your fingers gentle as you massage his head, “Get some sleep, Hexx. All will be well. I promise.”

His arms tighten around you and he exhales slowly, “Love you, cyare.” He mumbles as he drifts off to sleep.

Your fingers don’t even pause their gentle motions as he says those world-shattering words. But your gaze does soften as you stare at the top of his head. Oh, you sweet, sweet man. 

If Hexx wants to stay, then you will do everything in your power to make sure that he can. All will be well. You’ll make sure of it.

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Premières danses

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/MTSnz3D by Blue_Lumen Le grand jour est arrivé pour Mayday et Crosshair, il est temps pour eux d'ouvrir le bal. Hunter regarde son petit frère avec fierté. Words: 2998, Chapters: 1/1, Language: Français Series: Part 4 of Retrouvailles Fandoms: Star Wars: The Bad Batch (Cartoon), Star Wars - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: Gen, M/M Characters: CT-9904 | Crosshair, CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo, CT-9901 | Hunter, Omega (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), CT-9902 | Tech, CT-9903 | Wrecker, Clone Commander Mayday (Star Wars), Phee Genoa, CT-7567 | Rex, Clone Trooper Hexx (Star Wars), Clone Trooper Veetch (Star Wars) Relationships: Crosshair & CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo & Hunter & Omega & Tech & Wrecker (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), CT-9904 | Crosshair/Clone Commander Mayday, CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo/CT-7567 | Rex, Phee Genoa/CT-9902 | Tech Additional Tags: Marriage, POV CT-9901 | Hunter, Family Bonding, Fanart, CT-9904 | Crosshair is a Little Shit, CT-9904 | Crosshair & CT-9902 | Tech are Twins, Song Lyrics, Song fic, Family Feels, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/MTSnz3D