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eobe · 2 days ago

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😱 I LOOOOVE ALL OF THIS! ✨🫶 You beautiful menaces can’t imagine how much this helps me right now ❤️‍🩹

Archer, ori‘vod! 💙🫶🩵 As I told you, the writing is amazing 🤩✨ And I‘m so excited how they‘ll manage to get them 🤯🙏 And another super tiny cameoooo of Eo and Owl Squad 🦉✨🫠 My heart always skips a beat when you do this! 🤩😱🥰

And my precious Foxwithadarkside 🫶 badassing with your art on top! 🤩✨ The faces 😂😎

Echaaj'la

Part 2

(Part 1)

The continuation of this collaborative “fix-it”, post GGN tale. This has turned into a collaborative writing exercise between myself and @feralferrule, with input from a couple other vode. The thing I loved most about GGN was the collaboration and the reciprocal inspiration. Thanks so much to all of you for the ride!

Hang in there BIV boys, we’re coming!

Word Count ~5400

Synopsis - Joined by a couple friends, Archer and Choy get to know each other a little better while planning how they’re going to extract Hexx, Veetch, and Mayday from Barton IV without altering the timeline. Meanwhile, the Barton IV boys continue to freeze, still utterly baffled by their GGN ‘dreams’, but at least they were good dreams. 😙

Warnings: We’re trying to rope a bunch of chaos together (including some very non-canon shenanigans) and make it all behave. Let’s just go with it. 🤫 Some angsty-ness and tender moments. Archer isn’t sure how to process her feelings or worries. She needs a hug. Or maybe more of that pink drink.

Mando’a Words

Al’verde - commander

Aruetiise - Outsiders

Beskar’gam - armour

Beskaryc kar’ta - beskar heart

Copi - shortened from copikla, “cute”. Copi is Archer’s young rancor.

Haar Trak - “The Arrow”, Archer’s Kom'rk-class starfigher.

Kar’ta - heart

Kov’nyn - the Mandalorian “Keldabe kiss”. The touching of foreheads, usually by helmeted individuals. Can be used in combat (I.e., a violent headbutt), but when performed gently, this gesture is an act of affection and trust (not exclusively romantic), and demonstrates a bond between the individuals involved.

Ner - my

Ner runi cuyi ca’tra, bal gar me’suum’ika bal ka’ra - My soul is the night sky, and you are the moon and stars

Olarom - Welcome

Shab’la - screwed-up

Resol’nare - “The six actions”. Six tenets, central to the Mandalorian way of life.

Yaim’sik - home/house

Barton IV, Imperial Depot

Another frigid morning. Not that there were ever warm mornings, but he’d settle for a plain cold one once in a while. Commander Mayday rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stood up from his cot. A thin skim of ice on the drab, grey duracrete walls of his bunk room shimmered in the pale light beginning to stream through the tiny window, and he could see each exhale as they puffed out in a swirling cloud in front of him.

This was a miserable place to be. He and his squad had been assigned to guard the remote outpost and its cargo crates over a year ago. The base came under constant attack from raiders - local people, and over the months most of the squad had been lost in the conflicts. Morale was at an all-time low, the Empire had all but abandoned them to their icy fates, and all of his squad had been lost apart from two troopers - Hexx and Veetch.

A faint reflection of light caught his eye as he bent to pick up his armour from its neat stack on the floor. The pendant around his neck, a copper coloured metal hexagon, was swinging and catching the orange glow from his small, barely functional, heating device. He paused to consider the simple pendant. It hung on a leather cord and had faint writing etched on it in runes he recognized as Mandalorian, but could not read.

He’d woken up one morning, about 6 months past and had discovered it hanging around his neck. The clothing strewn across the floor was not his usual blacks and his favourite, well his ONLY, pair of sunglasses had been missing. He’d stormed into Hexx and Veetch’s quarters demanding to know what trouble they had been up to, only to find them arguing about some wild theory. About a dream. A dream with eerie similarities to the one he’d had that night, and had continued having since.

The dream was difficult to remember, he had only brief images left when he awoke. A red rose woven into flowing brown hair. A tattoo in the shape of his pendant, etched on a pale sternum. Soft hands running over his hair and along his cheeks. His forehead resting gently against another. He always felt warm and a little less alone when he woke from this dream, but its appearance along with that of the pendant were utterly perplexing.

Dreams couldn’t explain the appearance and disappearance of physical objects. He must have spent too much time trapped at this miserable base, he was loosing his grip on reality. He’d spent several days trying to figure out what the kark had happened, but eventually gave it up for some quirk in the force. All he knew for sure, was that his new pendant was inexplicably dear to him (but couldn’t, sadly, shade his eyes from the glaring sun). He rarely took it off, and kept it hidden in the collar of his blacks.

With a sigh, he resigned himself once again to possibly never finding the answers to all of the questions he had. He tucked his pendant into his collar and began to kit up in his amour, wondering if the reinforcements he’d requested 28 rotations ago would be arriving finally.

***

In the adjacent barracks Hexx and Veetch were also preparing for the day. Veetch was rummaging through his small crate of belongings when he came across an item of ladies lingerie. He considered the lacy scrap of cloth for a moment. It still faintly held the scent from it’s presumable former owner. Together he and Hexx had a matching set. But Hexx never wanted to talk about their secret treasures. It felt like he’d gotten his in a dream, but that couldn’t be right - the fabric was real, he could hold it in his hands. The more he tried to puzzle out the answer, the more foggy his dream-like memory became. It had to be just a dream. A really good dream. Like a children’s tale, full of mystery and magic. He brushed the lacy fabric with his fingers one last time and then stood and headed out into the chill of the base.

Hexx followed him silently, his thoughts also on the inexplicable appearance of items he and his brother kept secret. Veetch had some wild theories about the mysterious appearances and the recurring dreams he had about a mystery woman, but had given up trying to connect the dots after their Commander had reprimanded him for making a huge, slightly insane string board on the wall of their barracks. The memory of the look on Mayday’s face when he’d first seen the huge art project still brought a smile to Hexx’s face.

Though he’d never admit it, Hexx had similar dreams, and often carried his treasure - a smaller scrap of lacy black fabric than Veetch had - with him through the day, convinced that it gave him good luck. He surreptitiously checked for its presence in one of his belt boxes. It was there, and the woman he’d gotten it from had to be out there too, she had to be real. He felt assured it was going to be a good day.

***

Kyrimorut, Mandalore

“This way, watch your head.” Archer held open a low door that curiously appeared to be hewn directly into the trunk of a vast veshok tree growing next to a pristine lake at the northern edge of the village. Choy ducked inside the door and found herself in an expansive, partially underground space. Numerous starships of varying sizes rested inside, gleaming in the low, artificial light.

“Wow. Mandalorians really love their secret, hidden spaces, huh?” said Choy. Archer chuckled. “Well, this is a secret stronghold for some very high-profile, moderately unstable and ridiculously wealthy military deserters, ex-Jedi and other similarly unsavoury characters. We don’t exactly want to hang out an olarom sign for the Empire.” Archer smirked.

Archer had just received a message from Jaing, the information specialist they’d visited not an hour before. He’d informed them that an Imperial shuttle was scheduled to deploy to Barton IV two standard rotations from now. They didn’t have much time to waste so they’d come to prepare to leave for Barton IV.

Archer led her in the direction of the large hangar door, which appeared to open directly out from the side of the tree under which the hangar was build, opposite the small door they had just entered by. There was a medium-sized starship parked here, its wings in an upright position. As they approached the side of the ship, a woman in dark crimson coveralls slid out from underneath it wiping grease from her hands with a rag.

“Choy, this is Parja. Parja, Choy,” Archer introduced. She turned to Choy. “Parja is our resident mechanic and general technical specialist. She’s Fi’s partner. Parja,” she said turning back towards the other woman, “thanks for doing my preflight-check on such short notice. I’m afraid we’ve have to depart unexpectedly quickly.”

Choy studied the fierce-looking mechanic. She looked pretty familiar, and she knew they’d met briefly. “Oh! We met at GAR Goth Night,” she realized out loud.

Parja raised an eyebrow, “Where? ‘GAR’ as in Grand Army of the Republic?”

Choy looked questioningly at Archer who nodded [[She’s safe, just remember I’m on the down low.]] Choy gave her a subtle wink and turned back to Parja.

“Parja, I’m glad to really meet you. I only just saw you across the dance floor at 79’s on Coruscant months ago. You were dancing with your husband and his brother and Archer.” Parja squinted her eyes and looked just over Choy’s head. “Everyone was dressed in black and the clone bar was decorated all spooky? Do you remember?”

She shook her head, casting her gaze around, “I, I thought I had some dreams kind of like that. Fi hasn’t mentioned anything like it,” she looked at Archer. “You were there? With us?” Archer nodded.

“I can help you remember,” Choy offered, holding up her hand. “I’m no Jedi but I can do the same stuff they can. The place had some special power over it that night that gave us all amnesia, but someone helped me remember and I helped Archer.”

Again Parja looked to Archer for confirmation.

Choy continued, “May I jog your memory?” She held out her hand, “I promise the rest of your mind is safe, I won’t go poking around or anything,” Choy smiled. Parja nodded and placed her hand on Choy’s. Choy stepped closer, placed her other hand on Parja’s and began radiating calm and reassuring energy toward her.

“I will show you images, [[of the club from my memories.]] Choy switched to speaking through the force. She sent safe welcoming energy into Parja’s brain, visualizing a mist lifting off of her mind. Choy then projected her own memory of Parja arriving at 79’s with Rav, her outfit, her husband, the dancing. [[it was a theme night at 79’s, gothic, melancholy, romantic]] she showed her the other patrons, the decor, the performers on stage. She coaxed out Parja’s suspended memories frozen by the strange fogginess that she could feel in the force around people who had been at GGN.

Parja drew a sharp breath, “Yes, that’s like my dream. Oh, this all really happened. I was there!”

Choy continued. [[Archer met a clone commander in the GAR - well Empire now - Mayday, who went through quite the effort to woo her.]] Choy showed Mayday giving her the rose and a snippet of how they looked at each other.

Archer watched Parja’s expression soften from surprise and wonder to something happier as she caught Archer’s eye. Choy felt Parja’s caring and gladness directed toward her friend, and noticed Archer crossing her arms, cheeks colouring a bit.

[[And I- well, I hit it off with his men.]] Choy carefully parsed the more intimate memories from her projection into Parja’s mind, but some of the emotion slipped through, the infatuation, the deep concern. Parja’s attention was back on Choy, Archer noting her raised eyebrows and Choy’s blush.

[[I know what terrible things are going to happen to these men, and have come here to ask Archer for her help to rescue them from the Imperial base they are stationed at.]] Choy showed her memory of the images of Barton IV, the explosion, the row of helmets, Mayday with a heavy heart, the avalanche, Crosshair, and the cold, indifferent Imperial officer. Mayday dead in the snow.

“The Empire is throwing clones away like trash, abusing them, even experimenting on them now.” Choy said out loud with restrained passion, blinking back tears. She released Parja’s hand with a quick squeeze to bring her back to the here and now. “Thank you for listening,” Choy added and stepped back out of Parja’s personal space.

Parja blinked slowly and then looked to Archer. “So now you’re flying off to some Imperial installation, without a plan, or backup, to extract three random clones?”

Archer scoffed. ”Who said I don’t have a plan?”

”Does your “plan” involve a crate of thermal detonators?”

Archer shrugged non-commitally, a huge grin on her face.

“You’ve been spending too much time with Scorch.” Parja smirked, then turned serious. “But you know better than to think we’ll let you go to infiltrate an Imperial base by yourself, Keb. I’m coming with you and we’re bringing Fi too,” she continued, walking off.

“Your ship’s grounded until we come back!” she shouted over her shoulder as she left through the small door, heading towards the Skirata home.

Choy looked at Archer quizzically. “Keb?”

”My name. It’s Kebii’tra. “Archer” is a nickname of sorts.”

Choy nodded as she considered the irony that her own name now was a nickname derived from Archer’s language. She looked around at the space and wondered about the construction of the place and how these enormous compounds couldn’t be older than the huge trees above.

She looked at the comically small door that Parja had just left through and tipped her head. “So if you want to use the force on this adventure, you can just blame me. But that Parja’s a good egg. Would you ever feel safe coming out to her as a force user? Why’d you tell me anyway? You have that pink booze they were passing out? That stuff was something else.” Choy waved a hand up dismissively, and cast her gaze around Archer’s ship. “You don’t have to answer any of this, I’m just thinking out loud right now. But if she’s going to help- which is great, don’t get me wrong, I just think that says a lot about how much she cares about you.” She turned to Archer and looked her in the eyes, “Now, I’ll take your secret to my grave but I don’t think you should have to.”

Archer shrugged in Choy’s direction. “They liberate and take in defected clones here. It’s part of the reason this place exists, and it’s how they live by the Resol’nare. But Mandalorians have a long… tumultuous history with force users. The conflicts between us have shaped our culture for centuries. Distrust of the Jedi runs deep in our blood, and Mandalorian force users may be hidden away or shunned. It’s different here, people are less traditional, obviously, but I don’t have a great many friends and I don’t want to lose any because I’m different.”

Choy didn’t fail to notice the slightly pained look that briefly crossed Archer’s face.

”And to your second question,” she said abruptly changing the subject, “You threatened me.” Choy received a teasingly wicked grin. “It was only fair I let you know what you were getting yourself into,” she said with a wink.

Continuing, she said, “Since you mentioned them, those pink drinks - what did they do to us? They made me feel strange. Like I wasn’t quite myself in some ways. I did some things I wouldn’t normally have, and everything I felt seemed exaggerated. It was all so intense by the end of the night. ”

“Hold up,” Choy laughed, “Is it really a threat if I don't know you can hear me?” she smirked at the other woman. “Anyway, yeah we were definitely in an altered state,” she squinted her eyes and thought back to that night. “I’ve had a while to reflect on this and I believe what I was feeling was genuine. Like, I was really annoyed with Jesse, but I was already annoyed with him. I avoided Echo after the drinks because I knew my heart would break in a million pieces if I saw him. I felt very platonic toward the Bad Batchers and all the ladies felt like sisters I never had. It was like I felt everything stronger, but it all came from me.”

She shifted her weight to one leg and held a hand out. “But would I have jumped in the sack with two men had I been sober?” She shrugged, “Possibly. Probably- honestly,” she nodded, “ that’s exactly what I would have done then. I was still hormonal like a tooka in heat- sorry, I know, TMI. But between the force being new for me and the stupid GAR-issue birth control implant, I was a hot mess. I still have to focus every day just to manage it, but it’s better. I wasn’t eased into the force from birth like you or anyone else in this galaxy. Yoda said it’s the nature of power to fill voids. Apparently I was a void,” Choy added sardonically, eyebrows raised.

She looked at Archer again who seemed not at all reassured. Choy sighed, “Here’s what I think- whatever you did with Mayday, that came from your heart. It didn’t feel like regular drunk inhibition to me and you didn’t seem drugged. I’ve seen that and your mind felt clear. We’ll just have to see how we feel about the guys when we get them, and how they feel about us, too. Who knows, maybe we just end up rescuing them and it’s like catch and release.”

She paused and stepped a little closer to Archer, “Hey, nothing you did was inherently bad. Do Mandalorians have cultural rules, taboos about this sort of thing? Or your own rules you have for yourself?”

“There’s no cultural taboo. Far from it.” Archer paused, looking a little uncomfortable. “I’m just…not usually into the casual scene I guess. I don’t really regret anything, I’m just still unsure how things seemed to move so quickly for me. And of what that might mean.”

Choy sensed something behind Archer’s words, but let it be for the time being.

Archer continued, unprompted. “I gave him my kar’ta…” she admitted. “He was still loyal to the Empire, I couldn’t tell him about this place,” she gestured around them, “couldn’t yet offer him, them, a place to get away to. But still, I gave it to him.”

“Your kar’ta?” Choy asked her, unsure of what she meant, but sensing a weight to the admission.

“My heart. My beskar heart - from my armour,” she hedged slightly. “He hung it around his neck, and wore it as a pendant the rest of the night.”

“I’ve read that piece is special. It symbolizes the heart and spirit of the Mandalorian people, right?” She eyed Archer knowingly.

“Yeah, that’s right,” she trailed off, apparently unprepared to go further.

”Hey,” Archer began anew, once again changing the course of the conversation, “since we have a bit of time before Parja comes back with Fi, let's head back to my yaim’sik for a minute. I should introduce - or maybe reintroduce - you to someone.”

“Yes, of course,” Choy said a little absentmindedly. She followed Archer out of the little door and back through the woods. She was considering how deeply affected Archer seemed to be by her dalliance with Mayday. Choy felt deep guilt seeping up. A memory of Hexx throwing the back room key to Mayday at her suggestion played across her mind. She realized that she had drawn Archer into the storm she was caught in, her lack of boundary and control stoking that far deeper power than the force, the fires of desire, the very thing driving all the conflict and war for power around them. She realized that maybe she wasn’t supposed to be here just for the boys, but for Archer, too. She felt a strong resolve to help Archer regain her sense of integrity and to set things right.

Sensing her inner turmoil, Archer looked back at Choy who had straggled behind with her thoughts. Choy just smiled and quickened her pace. “So who’s the mystery person? Someone from GGN, I’d imagine?”

”Oh yes, I think you’ll quite like her.”

***

Hyperspace, en-route from Mandalore to Barton IV

Archer reclined in the pilot’s chair of her Kom’rk-class starfighter - Haar Trak - content for the moment to rest and process some of the memories and information Choy had unlocked. They were presently speeding through hyperspace on their way from Mandalore to Barton IV, a journey that was nearly complete.

Parja and Fi had joined them, Parja being convinced that they would need the help. Or maybe she was just eager for another opportunity to see some of their new gear tested in action. She wasn't sure. Both Parja and Fi had spoken with Choy and were relieved of the fog over their memories. They were now seated towards the rear of the ship, conversing quietly.

Choy was seated beside her in the copilot’s chair, apparently lost within her own thoughts. She’d made it clear to them that in order to maintain the integrity of future events, the three clones must be extracted without the knowledge of anyone on Barton IV, and that they must all be believed to have been killed in action. This was going to be… interesting.

The Imperial clone trooper known as Crosshair would soon be arriving on Barton IV with one Lieutenant Nolan. Crosshair had been at GGN and had seemed to know Mayday then. It was curious that this day would be the first time they’d be meeting, according to Choy. Now that she was thinking of the people she’d seen that night, she realized there were quite a few people there who seemed to be from another time. Curious. She wondered, not for the first time, what purpose the minstrels had had for bringing all of those beings together the way they had. What a story that must be.

This mission to free the three steadfast clones trapped on Barton IV was the right thing to do, and aligned with Kyriomorut’s objective of liberating and bringing more vode to the stronghold. But she’d also promised Mayday she’d come for him, and she felt compelled to fulfill that promise - no matter the ultimate outcome. Sure, he hadn’t known exactly what she’d meant and probably didn’t remember anything about that night, but still she’d given her word.

Choy had made it clear that all three men had experienced much in the past months and would be happy to move on to a different life, if given the chance. It was time to fulfill her promise, then. She recalled the last few moments of GGN, and felt her resolve strengthen. The memory played before her eyes.

Mayday hugged her close at a table near the bar, she was seated sideways across his lap. He laid his head against her shoulder, pressing his face into the crook of her neck. He sighed deeply as she waved to Eo and her squad as they departed for the night.

She looked down at him and stroked his hair soothingly with her free hand as the tumult of emotions roiling inside him washed over her. He’d seemed lost in thought, trapped in a loop of “what-if’s”.

“Are you tired, Al’verde?” she’d asked.

He’d looked up at her, his large eyes tinged with emotions she didn’t want to name. It was a heartbreaking look, and one she couldn’t deny held more than just weariness.

“No.”

“Then what’s wrong, ner kar’ta?”

“The club is closing soon.” He paused for a long moment, searching her gaze and clutching her more tightly to him. “And I don’t want to leave.”

She’d looked up then, noticing that indeed the club was beginning to clear out, patrons saying their farewells and making their way to the exit. Hexx and Veetch had been hovering nearby, both looking dispirited after Choy’s departure. It was time for them to go as well.

Setting her nearly empty glass of pink-drink down on the table behind her she pressed her palm to Mayday’s cheek, running her thumb back and forth softly. He leaned into the touch.

“Shab,” she thought to herself with a heavy sigh of her own, “this one is the call for help that has brought me more trouble.” What was it that made these three bearded troopers so sweet and hard to deny? And why-oh-why must they still be with the Empire? Why couldn’t she just offer him and his men a safe place to go?”

She’d brought her forehead to rest against his in a gentle kov’nyn and said softly, “Ner runi cuyi ca’tra, bal gar me’suum’ika bal ka’ra.” She knew that he’d probably understood only a few of the words but she could feel their impact on him nonetheless.

Their fast-growing attachment to each other was probably obvious to everyone in the club. She should have kept her distance, knowing they would inevitably have to part - maybe permanently - at the end of the night, but she’d been as helpless in the end to the mysterious atmosphere of GGN as everyone else.

”Come with me?” he’d asked then.

Before she’d been able formulate a response Hexx and Veetch appeared over his shoulder and cleared their throats.

”Uhm, commander? Sir?” Veetch spoke hesitantly.

Mayday’s posture stiffened immediately, and he nearly growled his response. “I know, Veetch.”

Mayday sighed once again before rising from the chair and setting her on her feet. He took her hand in his, and as a group they walked towards the doors. He paused with her, eyeing the two troopers meaningfully. They walked through the doors with a nod… and seemed to fade in a pink-tinged mist that definitely hadn’t been there a moment ago.

What the kark? She hadn’t questioned that at the time. Mayday hadn’t seemed to notice.

He was hesitating, his reluctance to go etched in every line of his posture and rippling off him in strong pulses. His eyes said everything he wouldn’t voice. She squeezed his hand and tried to send a subtle wave of calm reassurance to him. He took a shaky breath and crushed her to his chest. She squeezed him back as he said, “I’ll comm you. Promise.”

He pulled back and grinned at her. Mand’alor, that cheeky smile was contagious. She returned it with a wink and kissed him on the cheek. “Don’t forget, Al’verde. I’ll come after you if you do, and I’ll bring Copi,” she threatened teasingly.

“Promise?”

“Ni haat’mitir.”

Eyes shining, he brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. He turned quickly and passed through the doorway, fading away in swirling pinkish mist.

Again she hadn’t questioned that decidedly not normal departure at the time.

And of course, he hadn’t contacted her. She’d promised to come after him, and now she was. But the uncertainty she felt about where would they would stand after all the time that had passed was distracting. She sighed quietly. “Stop it,” she chided herself.

It didn’t matter what happened after. Getting the three men away from the Empire, saving their lives, giving them a chance to live and make their own choices was all that mattered. She was a professional. She was not going to let these dikut’la pink-mist generated emotions and worries get in the way of completing this mission with everyone intact.

Clearing her throat, Archer turned fully in her seat to face Choy. ”Show me again, the events of the afternoon when we’ll have to get your two lads out.” Choy took Archer’s offered hand and sent images of Crosshair overhearing an urgent comm message from Veetch relaying that Hexx had been taken down by raiders, followed by images of a shuttle stationed in front of the base exploding and sending a man in clone trooper armour - Veetch - flying through the air.

Parja and Fi, overhearing the activity joined the planning in the cockpit.

”It seems as though there are only a couple minutes between when Veetch reports Hexx to have been taken down at the back of this depot and when he himself is caught up in this shuttle explosion near the southwestern end.” Archer said, deep in thought.

“Yes, and Crosshair will be closely watching the shuttle explosion from the eastern watchtower, while Mayday is investigating in the northwestern area. The light from the detonation will blind Crosshair temporarily but only for a few seconds. There won’t be much time to get to Veetch without him noticing us,” said Choy.

“Hm. We’ll have to split up into two teams to get to both men in time, I think,” Archer returned. “If we can covertly station one team on the east side near where the raiders make initial hard contact with Hexx and Veetch behind the barracks building, they can provide the boys with some subtle non-lethal cover fire and transport Hexx to the ship after Veetch breaks away to the south towards the shuttle. A covert stun-shot on Hexx while Veetch has his back turned should maintain his story of being taken down and prevent him from actually being shot.”

Choy looked slightly aghast at the idea of deliberately stunning Hexx, but said, “I’m a pretty good shot, I can probably manage that.”

Fi brightened. “Looks like you’re teaming up with me! I’ve heard I’m ok with a blaster rifle.” He winked. Parja rolled her eyes fondly.

“Make sure you’re not firing unless you really need to. Stun bolts will be really obvious and if anyone notices, your cover will be blown”, Parja added. “But what about the other man, Veetch?”

Archer crossed her arms. “You and I will get him. This might be a good chance to try out that new remote override device you guys been working on. You up for a covert installation and remote “self-destruction” of an imperial shuttle?”

“You know it.” Parja smiled. She was always game for testing out new tech. Especially if it caused a little mayhem for the Empire.

If we detonate that shuttle just a bit earlier than what Choy’s seen, it’ll still provide the flash of light we need for visual cover, and it’ll throw Veetch up into the right spot without it being fatal for him. If my timing is right, I should be able to jet in and snatch him from the air as he’s blown back away from the shuttle.” Archer looked thoughtful for a moment. “I suppose the intensity of the explosion may be enough to explain the fact that he is suddenly missing too.”

“Wait,” Choy interjectected, “you can carry the weight of an armoured man while flying your jetpack?” asked Choy a bit doubtfully.

“I once scooped up a fully Katarn-armoured commando. Dropped him in a mud pit. It was hilarious,” Archer reflected with a smile.

“You… what?” Choy blinked incredulously.

“He called Copi ugly.” Archer shrugged. “Anyway, these skinny lads shouldn’t be a problem”.

“Wow, ok.” Choy blinked. “Oh! We’ll have to make sure some armour pieces stay behind, or at least their helmets.” Archer looked at Choy questioningly. “Trust me,” said Choy.

Archer shrugged. “Very well.”

Fi wondered, “The base’s perimeter sensor array may be problematic for us trying to stage ahead of time. Do you have an explosive plan to deal with that too?”

Archer considered for a moment. “If what Choy’s shown us is accurate, their sensors are shab’la. But we may be safest to get into position after the raiders have triggered the alarm themselves. Timing will be tight, but we’ll avoid detection, save time, and it should be workable with all the chaos, right?”

“The larger concern though is the likelihood that those troopers will have no memory of us and will probably resist our abduction efforts. Choy, can you remedy that before they regain consciousness?”

“They should be conscious for me to help them remember. I think I can handle them though.” Choy smiled at the group reassuringly.

“And Mayday?” Archer asked gravely. “When can we get Mayday out?”

Choy glanced to the side for a moment, before returning her gaze to meet Archer’s. “Mayday has to believe that Hexx and Veetch are gone. He has to stay with Crosshair for a bit longer. Just until the next morning. It’s Crosshair befriending Mayday, being saved by him, and then witnessing what he thinks is Mayday’s death that lets him move past the Empire. It seems cruel, but I believe it has to happen. For the sake of a lot of lives.”

There was a long silence, as the group looked at each other. Archer felt deeply unsettled. “We have to allow him to be injured and then appear to die under these horrible circumstances? What if he does die?”

She wasn’t sure she could remain composed if she had to witness that.

”I’m almost certain he doesn’t,” responded Choy immediately. “At least not right there, like I showed you. Fi interjected “He certainly will suffering from hypothermia, which in its final stages can cause loss of consciousness. Pulse and respirations can be difficult to detect too. We will need to get him quickly to the ship and stabilize any injuries he’s got from the avalanche. He’ll probably need the bacta tank back home.”

[[I believe you can get to him in time, and we can look after him and Hexx and Veetch. It’s all going to work out, you’ll see.]] Choy was looking at Archer, and she felt her trying to convey confidence and reassurance. “We can do this,” Choy then said aloud to the group.

The ship’s navicomputer emitted an auditory tone before dropping the craft out of hyperspace. The icy visage of Barton IV loomed large in the viewscreen. Archer looked at her hastily assembled rescue squad and nodded.

“Well, we’ll soon find out.”

Tagging same folks as last time - let me know if it’s a bother! @eobe @lonewolflupe @ghostymarni @foxwithadarkside @nocturius8015ficore @feralferrule @noblelightfighter @fuzzyenthusiastnelket01

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fwitoley · 1 year ago

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Cold - Bad Batch Oneshot

Summary: Mayday and his men find it difficult to withstand the harsh conditions of Barton 4.

Word Count: 812

Original Character: Canvas, Checkmate, Flame

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Mayday gritted his teeth as another gust of freezing wind tore through his armor. It was another freezing night on Barton 4, just like the night he and his squad first landed on this planet. The Empire had ordered that they protect a shipment of precious cargo, for the contents of the crates were imperative for the Empire’s growth. Mayday didn’t know whether to fully believe that, considering he didn’t know exactly what he was protecting.

There were many variables to this operation, from the subzero temperatures and hostile creatures to malfunctioning equipment that insurgents used to their advantage to get the upper hand. It seemed like every week rebels were sneaking into the outpost, stealing cargo, and killing clones to the point where Mayday had to set up a schedule determining who would stay at the outpost’s edge on watch and for how long. Shifts were getting longer as he lost more men, and he didn’t know how long before they were all killed off.

“Commander,” Veetch’s voice blared through Mayday’s helmet. “Commander, come in!”

“What is it?” Mayday answered, jamming his finger into the loose comm button at his ear. His voice cracked with lack of use, his mouth dry. He made a mental note to check the water filter back at base.

“It’s Canvas. I think… I think he’s dying.”

You’ve got to be kidding me.

Mayday’s chest tightened as he sighed, the cold air freezing his lungs. “I’m headed in now.”

Mayday trudged through the snow, the icy ground swallowing his legs with every step. He switched to a public channel and said, “Back to base, men. Something’s up with Canvas.”

A flurry of acknowledgments filled Mayday’s helmet. He looked up to see three other clones tramping toward base, some shaking the snow from their armor. One trooper bounded toward Mayday, asking, “What’s with Canvas? Is he okay?”

Checkmate. Mayday placed a hand on the clone’s shoulder and said “I’m sure he’s fine. Probably just sick again. He’ll push though, he always does.”

Mayday didn’t have to see Checkmate’s face to know the trooper wasn’t so sure. Flame and Hexx caught up to them, and the four clones entered the base together. The stronghold was dark inside, with stacks upon stacks of crates almost reaching the ceilings. A protocol droid walked by, carrying cargo here and there. The four clones found Veetch standing beside Canvas, who was bundled up in a multitude of ponchos and stray cloth.

“I did the best I could, Commander,” Veetch said, his voice strained. “But I don’t think he’s gonna make it.”

Murmurs drifted through the room as Mayday’s men whispered amongst themselves. Checkmate balled his hands into fists, turning to the nearest protocol droid. “You! Come here, he needs a medic!”

The protocol droid froze in his tracks and stared at Checkmate. “I am not a medical droid. It is not part of my programming.”

“Then find someone—!” Mayday cut Checkmate off with a firm hand on his shoulder.

“Check,” Mayday said, locking his gaze on his brother. Checkmate stared at Mayday, then at the protocol droid.

“But—”

“There’s nothing we can do except send him off. We’d be doing more harm keeping him alive.”

Checkmate shuddered from something other than the cold. Mayday gently led him back to the others, who were surrounding the dying clone. “Commander?” Canvas shuttered. He raised his hand an inch from the blanketed mound he lay on, only for it to fall limp at his side. Mayday took Canvas’s arm, squeezing his hand.

“You’re gonna be alright, brother,” Mayday said. “It’s just a cold.”

A weak chuckle escaped Canvas’s lips. “No kidding, Commander. Is… Is backup here?”

“They’re coming,” Mayday answered. He saw Checkmate step forward in his peripheral, moving to grab Canvas’s other hand, but Flame held him back. Hexx placed a hand on Checkmate’s shoulder as the tears streamed down Checkmate’s face. Checkmate had been assigned to Mayday’s squad along with Canvas, and they spent every waking moment looking out for each other. It was always hard for Checkmate when a brother left him, but this one might hit hardest.

“Commander…” Canvas started again, attempting to sit up. His elbow slipped out from beneath him, and he fell back with a grunt. “Commander, I—”

“Easy, soldier,” Mayday said. Checkmate sobbed behind him. He’s so weak. “You’re gonna be alright.”

“My drawings…” Canvas strained. He let out a shaky breath, closing his eyes as a small smile played on his lips. “My drawings… give them to Checkmate, yeah?”

“Sure thing, shiny,” Mayday answered, tears welling up in his eyes. Canvas’s chest fell slowly as Mayday pressed his fingers to Canvas’s wrist. No pulse.

Mayday placed Canvas’s hand on the shiny’s chest before standing. The other five clones watched as he lifted a hand to his face and wiped the tears from his eyes.

“Sure thing.”

Canvas, Checkmate, and Flame are original clone characters I came up with for the sake of the story since we only saw Hexx and Veetch in 2x12 “The Outpost". Feel free to use them in your own stories/art/whatnot, but make sure you credit me :P

#the bad batch oneshots #tbb oneshots #the bad batch #tbb #tbb oc #tbb oc checkmate #tbb oc flame #tbb oc canvas #tbb mayday #tbb veetch #tbb hexx #star wars #fanfic #fandom #writing community #creative writing #writers on tumblr #writeblr

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inkybyl · 6 months ago

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Crosshair’s looking at this ‘reg’ like “since when were we on first name basis” and it’s just Commander Mayday with a haircut + babyface since living on Pabu. (Hexx & Veetch are alive and his biggest cheerleaders idc)

I love the idea that if Mayday cut his hair on Pabu, with aaallll that sea breeze and heat, it’ll instantly be so curly

Suuuuuuper quick lazy sketch/drawing before bed based on my previous post, (MayCross) and @rendomski made a hilarious comment about what would happen if Mayday shaved his beard 🤣

#mayday with a babyface is killing me rn #the bad batch #star wars #star wars tbb #art #my art #digital art #mayday lives btw and he lives with hex and veech #tbb mayday #tbb crosshair #the bad batch crosshair #the bad batch mayday #hexx and veetch #tbb hunter #clone wars #cloneshipping #clone ship #tbb tech #tbb wrecker

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vodika-vibes · 8 months ago

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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

@n0vqni

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@justiceandwar98

@mira-loves-star-wars

@tiredbi-peach

@dukeoftheblackstar

@trixie2023

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@etod

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@kiss-anon

@continous-mistakes

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@silly-starfish

@lonewolflupe

@maniacalbooper

#star wars #tbb #clone trooper veetch x reader #veetch x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

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foxwithadarkside · 19 days ago

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@ghostymarni @lonewolflupe @wings-and-beskargam @eclec-tech @eobe @crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf @nocturius8015ficore

Choy and Una’s GAR Goth Night Out, part 5, an epilogue

Previously

Synopsis: Even fever dreams have to come to an end

Warnings: simple romantic angst and fluff and maybe some underwear sniffing

Note: GGN is a reality bending ley line wormhole for sake of everyone’s timelines.

Strobes and spotlights kept time with the music. A particularly gorgeous, long-haired clone was singing with an intoxicating voice on the stage. The place was still pretty crowded so Hexx, Choy and Veetch walked single file, winding their way to the bar. The boys kept Choy between themselves and within arms reach. She still had a faint glow and sparkle around her which turned heads. She turned her own head back and forth trying to find Una in the crowd.

A pair of eyes and a tickling at the back of her brain distracted her from her searching.

[[hallo]]

Choy almost tripped. Veetch bumped into her and caught her in his arms before she went down. Was that? a hello? like in actual English but with an accent? It seemed Continental. She looked back up for the owner of the eyes. And right into different set. Inside a mask with a cropped beard below.

“Master Obi Wan? Is that you in there?” Choy teased. He was wearing a black tunic and -were those clone blacks on the bottom? And was that a hand on his hip? She flicked her eyes back up as the man behind him faced her. A clone, his telltale scar wound its way up around an eye. “Hi, Commander,” she flirted, pretty sure Cody blushed under his rich complexion.

“My dear, you haven’t forgotten your training assignment, have you? in,” Obi Wan checked his wrist chrono, “two hours? You’ll have had no sleep, you’ll be shattered.” Veetch and Hexx exchanged a look.

“I can sleep on the transport, Dad, I mean General,” Choy smirked and Cody stifled a laugh. “Now don’t worry we’ll be back in time. Have you seen Una?”

“As a matter of fact, yes. I believe she is still looking for you,” he took closer notice of Veetch and Hexx, “couldn’t find you anywhere, she said.” Choy and Veetch gave each other a sideways glance and Hexx drew closer to her. “If I see her I’ll be sure to let her know you’re no longer preoccupied.” It was Choy’s turn to blush. [[Really now, two more?]] Obi WAN’s exasperation was laced with some humor. Choy rolled her eyes. He looked at Hexx and Veetch again, sighed and turned to walk away. Cody nodded to Choy’s boys and they back as Veetch snaked an arm back around her waist and Hexx held her hand. Cody smiled softly at her and followed Obi Wan.

“Two hours?” Veetch asked her with sad puppy eyes.

“I’ll have to leave in a little bit to get back and get ready,” Choy said to the two of them. Having to leave them was making her realize how much she cared about them. Suddenly the little feeling of doom at the back of her mind felt extremely real. Tears pricked her eyes. “One more drink and dance?”

“Ok”

“Yeah”

She took another look for the source of the voice that spoke to her through the force but the crowd had shifted. And the boys were pulling her to the bar. Hexx ordered a round of spotchkas. “Make mine a shandy, please,” Choy asked the bartender. He raised an eyebrow quizzically. “Oh that’s half spotchka and half soft drink,” Choy explained, “and no magic ingredients, I have to go to work soon.” The bartender smirked and gave her a playful salute as he filled their order.

“I do believe that’s them right there,” Choy heard Tech’s distinct voice behind her as she took a careful perch on the barstool with Hexx and Veetch standing close on either side. Here it comes.

“Choy! We ‘ave been looking everywhere for you, where did you go- oh.” Una’s scolding in her strong Ryl accent stopped short as she caught the sadness radiating off the trio and could see the bonds they’d made in their force signatures. “Oh, Choy, not again. [[what did I tell you, now you ‘ave a broken ‘art and broke two more. What will I do with you?]]

Choy picked up her drink and gulped it down. “I think we have time for one song before I turn into a pumpkin,” Choy said to the boys. They looked a little confused but drained their mugs and took her arms to escort her onto the dance floor.

“Choy we must go soon,” Una called after her.

“Just one song, and I’m sorry I disappeared!” Choy shouted and blew her a kiss.

Choy faced Veetch and wrapped her arms around him as Hexx held her flush to him from behind. They each buried their noses in her hair as they swayed her to the slow song playing. Choy let herself open to them through the force. Just a little bit. They felt so different. Veetch was like a waterfall in the sunshine and Hexx felt like moonlight on sea waves. They weren’t the love em and leave em types. They were steadfast and loyal. She felt their goodness in their hearts, their bravery and valor, intelligence and pride in skill and in being good soldiers. She felt their thread of spirit back through time to people. They all had people they probably never learned about, lost to war and time and fracture. But here they were, like every other clone. She centered herself again and looked up at Veetch. She slowly blinked and kissed him. Then, as the song ended she turned around in their arms and kissed Hexx until the next song began. They kept her cocooned between them till that one ended.

Una was not too far from the dance floor by herself looking anxious. Choy drew the boys over towards her and tried to figure out why she was so sad about leaving. She had a horrible feeling about something but couldn’t remember what. She was sure it was important, sure she needed to break every rule and run away and bring the boys with her. Choy stood there gazing into their eyes, both soulful and regretful. “I wish I could take you home with me,” she sniffled, “I’m so scared for you to go back to your station. Una soothed her hand on Choy’s shoulder, “Come along, muchi, it will be ‘arder to leave zee longer you wrap your ‘art strings around each ozer. And you are glowing much too much.”

Choy’s eyes pricked with tears. She squeezed them shut and they fell, rolling down her cheeks splashing on her chest. “Please stay safe, don’t trust anything, only each other and your Commander.” She shook her head, trying to remember, “I dont know who, just don’t trust the ones who aren’t clones.” She turned to Una who wrapped an arm around her and walked her away from the boys. Choy’s tears were streaming down her cheeks as she blinked and clung to Una. They passed the booths, Una waved at Tech and the Batch and their various dates. Wrecker looked very concerned, Tech leaned over to him and said something in his ear. The girls passed the chillout room. There was a mid-air flash of light hitting the backroom key before it was in the hand of a clone with his date. Mayday exchanged nod with the man and Archer watched the girls pass and leave, a little perplexed. She pointed them out to Mayday. He suggested they go ask the boys and set out looking for them.

The cool predawn air of the Coruscant night hit them through the door as Una guided Choy outside. A couple drunk clones leered near the exit. “Hey, beautiful, I won’t break your heart,” slurred one of them sidling up to Choy. He had tattoos on his face and blue eyes.

Una raised a hand at him, “You will go inside and ‘ave fun.” The clone glazed over and turned about, putting an arm around his buddy. They went inside talking about having fun.

“Thanks, Una,” Choy took a deep shuddering breath, feeling her head clear a little. She wiped at her eyes, sure she looked ghastly and smeared. Why was she loosing it? Get it together, she told herself.

They hailed a speeder and climbed in. As they flew away from 79’s Choy’s thoughts became more ordered. She stared out the window at the city, playing the nights events out in her mind. Who made Echo drunk? How could it have been Fives? She was having a hard time picturing his face. The whole evening was fading like a dream as she remembered everything she had forgotten while in 79’s.

“Una? Did you forget stuff tonight? Or see things and people that can’t be real?”

“What do you mean?”

“I forgot all about everything that will happen, and my old life and I saw people that I know are gone, but in there I didn’t question it.”

“I think something was very very strange tonight, but I ‘ad a good time, I think, it’s so ‘ard to remember now.” Una fiddled with her lekku tips like when she was nervous.

The speeder arrived at the temple and they rushed to their quarters. Choy’s mind was still putting the timeline puzzle together. She was sure the boys had said they had been on Barton IV, but how? that hasn’t happened yet it’s too early. She shook her head, that’s who they were, she was sure. She felt sick. They were going to die there and so was their commander. Her heart squeezed as she changed into tactical gear and wiped her makeup off her face. This was so confusing, it reminded her of the feeling on Dantooine. Did the same thing happen tonight? Is that why she saw- saw dead people. She shivered thinking about how Hardcase was right there- solid and gorgeous and real. But more disturbingly, she hadn’t questioned it. And that was before that pink drink.

She placed the flowers in her hair into her little box of special things. Checking the crono, she quickly combed her hair, braiding it as Una finished up in the shared sonic down the hall. They put their boots on and grabbed their supplies and headed to the transport. How long did she have? It should be any day now when hell would rain down. Then there would be what? A year before Crosshair went to Barton IV? How could she save them? She needed to survive first. Put your own mask on first, girly, she reminded herself.

The wind howled and a fine layer of ice crept over the walls inside the base. Hexx and Veetch put their few belongings in their small trunks they kept under their cots. They rolled up the outfits they’d worn while on their shore leave. Veetch checked the pockets in his pants and felt something like cloth inside of one. He pulled it out and dangled it in his hand. Hexx looked up as he put his dress boots in his bin.

“Is that?”

“Yeah,” Veetch ran his fingers over the black lace of Choy’s bra. He closed his eyes and held it up to his face. Her perfume hit him and his memories of her came flooding back. “Hexx, she really was real,” he said, opening his eyes. He looked at his brother as Hexx pulled black lacy panties out of his shorts pocket.

“I’ll trade you.”

“No way.”

stolen tag list @ghostymarni @lonewolflupe @wings-and-beskargam @eclec-tech @eobe @foxwithadarkside @fiveminutetrash @crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf @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

#goth gar night #tbb veetch #tbb hexx

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