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rexxdjarin · 3 years ago

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Captain's Log: Chapter 8

Remnants

Series Summary: The galaxy is in turmoil. The Republic has fallen, giving rise to the sinister reign of the totalitarian Empire, led by the insidious Emperor Palpatine. The millions of valiant clone troopers of the former Grand Army of the Republic are now blindly sworn, against their will, to protect a regime they once sought to destroy. After being saved from a terrible fate by his former-Jedi ally and close friend, Ahsoka Tano, seasoned veteran CT-7567 Clone Captain Rex remains loyal to the pillars of Democracy, freedom and truth that shaped the former Galactic Republic. We follow him now struggling to deal with the personal aftereffects of survival and finding his place in the galaxy alongside the only person he has left. You. The love of his life.

[previous] [next] part of Captain's Log series post on ao3

Pairing: Captain Rex x Fem!Reader (she/her pronouns used) Word Count: 14.2k (i think im physically incapable of writing short stuff lol!) Series Rating: Explicit (18+ only, Minors DO NOT INTERACT) Chapter Summary: A call from an unexpected ally reveals a truth no one expected and a loss that is difficult for both Rex and Reader to cope with. The only way to make peace with it is to see her for themselves. Sometimes hope is a dangerous thing. Chapter Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, Smut, Oral (fem!receiving), p in v sex (use protection irl plz), Dirty Talk, Language, Dealing with Major Character Death, Dealing with Grief and Guilt(SAD!), References to Canon Plot, Political References, Canon Typical Violence

The inside of our cockpit was illuminated blue by the scrambled transmission playing from our comm channel. Every member of clone force 99 was crammed inside the space meant for two, including an overtired, bleary-eyed Omega, who Wrecker cuddled close to him with his wide bicep.

Tech and Hunter leaned on the walls of either side of our ship, listening intently to the message we’d received from someone they didn’t know. Echo sat in the co-pilot's seat and I sat on Rex’s lap, both of us occupying the pilot's chair. The message was playing on loop, all of us tirelessly trying to unscramble its meaning without the help of an astromech.

The voice was garbled and the image of the person speaking just a blur of whirling data until we could figure out the code that kept it hidden. But with the coordinates it came from and Echo’s vast knowledge stored in his implant, he knew who it was from. As did I. The only person who could possibly know I was missing.

“Finally! I’ve got it! Echo enter in the following…” Tech hurriedly explained, showing Echo characters on a screen. His scomp link clicked and shucked the gears into place until the holo recording finally popped up clearly.

The message was for me.

“This is your colleague and your faithful friend Senator Bail Organa. I don’t think I have to inform you that the Republic, and the galaxy as we know it, has fallen. In the past few days, I have tried to make contact with any surviving Republic senate staff, family and friends with little success. By now I’m sure you’ve gotten mixed up in something far bigger than yourself. Don’t worry. I haven’t told a soul about your absence. I’ve taken the liberty of filing the clearance paperwork that permits your transfer to a new job. Working as a private aid for me here on Alderaan. It gives your commandeering of my senate cruiser and your disappearance from the Coruscant chambers a believable explanation. After everything that’s happened, I need to make sure I stay in contact with the few people I can trust. You, and whoever you’re likely traveling with, are welcome to meet me at my home, the Royal Palace here on Alderaan, within the next rotation. I’ll provide you with food, supplies and a place to regroup while we discuss everything that’s happened and our next steps for survival. The Republic isn’t all gone yet. Not as long as those who remain loyal to it live to fight another day. I hope this message finds you well and that in a few days I hear from you, my friend. May the force be with us all.”

I sat up, numb with shock that Bail was looking for me. That he survived. That he needed my help. That maybe there were others there who would refuse the formation of a dictator-led Galactic Empire.

“Do we buy his story? Do we trust him?” Hunter asked, looking at me, Rex and Echo for reassurance.

“He’s a close friend and a freedom fighter. I’m sure he doesn’t like what’s going on with the Empire any more than we do. I think I want to go see him. Hear him out. Just to be sure.” I explained, remembering all the times he’d broken rules and defied Republic law to do the right thing. He was a noble man with a good heart. But even so, who knows the trauma he went through. Watching the galaxy fall apart could change even the best of us.

“We’ll go with you.” Echo offered, placing his hand on my shoulder. “You’re going to want support right?”

Rex stood up and placed me on my feet, grabbing my arms and shaking me slightly. “Cyar’ika…listen…I want to believe him. I do. But we don’t know what he’s been through. We don’t know how he’ll react to a group of clones landing at his house. You all can’t go with us. Your path is…different from ours. You need to take care of Omega. Get her somewhere safe and get yourselves off the grid.”

“Rex…come on, we could be useful.” Hunter offered, reaching a hand out to him. He swatted it away, a bitter seriousness written all over his face.

“No, Sergeant. I mean it. What her and I need to do…we need to do alone. We can’t attract too much attention. Infiltrating and finding survivors…brothers…I can’t put you all at risk like that. I can’t lose anymore of you.”

“Rex.” I whispered, watching him wince at the painful memory of the crash he still didn’t have the heart to tell his brothers about. I wrapped my arms around his waist and rested my head on his shoulder.

I looked around the room at the identical faces of brothers who collectively did not want to let another beloved member of their family walk away. But if they ever stood a chance at a normal life, they had to take that now. Where Rex and I needed to go for information, they could not follow. It would be far safer for us to contact them if we needed to than it was for five rebel clones, a little girl and a missing junior senator to travel planet to planet rescuing the helpless.

“Rex and I will go alone. There are others out there. We need to find them and give them the chance at life that we’re giving you.” I finished my thought, looking apologetically at Echo especially, who would follow both Rex and I to the ends of the universe if we said the word.

“And I want to tell any surviving brothers of a safe place they can go where their family will be to take care of them.” Rex smiled, looking around at the faces of the brothers (and now sister) he hadn’t known long, apart from Echo, but had become just as close to him as his own men. They meant so much to him. Their survival as a family unit even more so, considering the decimation of his own.

Hunter sighed, standing up to shake Rex’s hand, “Okay. I can’t say I’m happy about letting you go on your own, but I understand. Take care of yourself, Captain. I think I speak for all of us when I say…well- we want to see what getting old looks like on one of us.” He laughed softly, his piercing brown eyes exploring Rex’s face the same way Omega did when she first met him.

“And take care of her. Though, I think we all know it’ll be the other way around.” Echo smiled, his fondness for both of us deepening the crinkles by his eyes and allowing him to smile and truly mean it for the first time in a long time. I bit down on my lip to hold back tears because no matter what, Echo is who I would miss most of all of them. And it’s no secret why.

Tech and Wrecker walked over to both of us to say their goodbyes, with Omega now right behind them standing on her own two feet despite her exhaustion.

“If you ever need to contact us, you can use the data pad I gave you. You’ll know how. I won’t miss it. Promise.” Tech said, his eyes meeting mine nervously as he removed his goggles to attempt wiping away a few tears inconspicuously.

Wrecker wailed, “Awh, why do you have to go?” stepping forward and scooping me, Rex and Tech in a giant hug. “I mean I know why, but it still sucks.” He groaned, trying not to suffocate us all with his desire to hold us close enough to him that we can never leave.

“They’re not going to make it anywhere if you crack their ribs first.” Tech sarcastically joked, pushing Wrecker’s arms off us with all his might and still not moving them an inch. Omega joined in the hug, wrapping her arms as far around each of us as she could reach.

“I wish you didn’t have to go too.” She muttered, tugging on my shirt and looking up at both Rex and I sadly. The sadness on her face hit us both harder than anyone else. All she ever knew was people leaving her. Each of her brothers walked out the doors of Kamino onto a transport, most never to be seen by her again. Even the Bad Batch boys got to leave for special missions at some point. Omega always stayed behind. It felt terrible making her relive that lonely feeling all over again. But at least she had the boys now, and we’d both rather her be alive to feel our absence than any other alternative.

I looked around the cockpit at all of them, wishing on every star above that they all stay together and that this wouldn’t be the last time. That by the light of the force, we will see them again.

We took off, dropping them all at the hiding place of the Marauder, making sure we synched up all our comms to similar frequencies and agreeing on a secret channel we’d use if we ever needed to find each other again. Deep down, I knew we would.

There was something brewing in both of us, especially Rex. A fight for greater survival was imminent and Rex was going to lead the way, with every person he ever met following in the impossibly great footsteps of the man they could always trust.

The Republic was gone but the clones remained. And Captain Rex had more than enough fight left in him.

—

“You know that cloak isn’t exactly a great disguise.” I joked, pointing out the obvious. Rex was still totally recognizable. No civilian looked quite that broad and alluringly handsome underneath scratchy burlap cloth. I’d managed to convince him to hide at least the helmet, which was a far too distinct hint at exactly which clone he was.

Even though Bail’s message assured us that Alderaan was safe, we still wanted to watch our backs here. Neither of us had ever been to this planet since everything happened and by now you can never really know who’s watching or whose eyes you can trust to conveniently forget what they’ve seen.

We landed our ship in the lush, dense woods surrounding the tall white stone of the Royal Palace of Alderaan. The last time I’d visited it was late summer and far too hot to wear as many concealed layers as we’d needed for our disguises now. This time around the temperate air of Alderaan’s spring carried with it a cool mist raining down from the ice capped mountains still thawing from their winter.

“It’s a good enough disguise. They’re supposed to be peaceful here. Besides, Senator Organa’s a reasonable man. I think he’d at least listen to what we had to say before…” Rex trailed off, reading my scolding expression and knowing to shut up.

“He’s not going to hurt us, Rex. I know him. So do you. At least a little. He wouldn’t have sent us that message if he didn’t trust us.” I assured him, stepping past a large trimmed hedge marking the entrance to the palace grounds.

“I think he’ll trust you. But he’d be well within his rights not to trust me.” Rex said, drawing his right pistol as we walked further into the grounds.

“Well I trust you. Which means he will too. He trusts my judgment. We can explain everything to him. We’ll need to if we want his help.” I brushed quietly along the length of the hedges, keeping out of sight from the lanterns that dotted the marbled stone pathway.

The Royal Palace Gardens were beautiful. Every kind of flower from every planet in the system grew here along with plants and vegetables used to feed those on planets that needed food. Alderaan was an extremely charitable and giving planet. They had eradicated all homelessness, poverty and virtually any suffering on their peaceful planet years before and took to helping others on their path to peace.

In fact, if you’d lived here your whole life you might never even know the galaxy had been at war for so many years. Most of the residents probably had never even seen clones in real life, apart from maybe on the holonet. Rex wouldn’t be recognized quickly so long as he kept the cloak on. But here, in the palace, no one was even keeping watch. Any guards were probably inside, if they were even working at all.

“I don’t understand how royalty can feel this safe, completely unguarded. We broke right in. There is ya know…empirical chaos going on only a few planets away.” Rex said incredulously, scoffing at such naive and poor defenses.

“They don’t believe in war or battle here. It’s perceived as completely safe here.” I commented, “I know that makes absolutely no sense to you.” I shrugged, finally coming upon the massive fountains and flowerbeds that stood right below Bail’s balcony and living quarters.

“It’s completely insane.” Rex scoffed, gesturing broadly to the stars above us. “They stay this unprepared; this is the first planet they’re going to take over. I just can’t imagine not wanting to fight.”

“I know. Peace often seems too fucking impossible. That doesn’t stop us from wanting to believe in it, right?” I smiled, stopping to reach my hand out for his.

He took it and sighed, “Yeah I know. I just don’t think you get there without having some fight in you. You’re proof of that.” He kissed the tops of my knuckles and turned to look up at the balcony. “That’s where he is I’d guess. Now, you know the plan. I’ll stay down here and wait. You go up there and talk, see what he has to say. If anything happens, you signal me three times on our comm channel. If I don’t hear from you in an hour, I’m coming up to get you. We’ve gotta be smart about this. Always need a good exit plan.”

I looked past the brim of his hood and into the worry clouding his eyes. This was risky even if I did trust Bail, but we had to meet up with him. Figure out what he knows and see if he can do anything to help us. Rex knew that, but selfishly and probably more wisely, he still worried.

“I’ll be alright. I promise you, baby.” I whispered, stepping close enough to brush noses with him. I rested my hand on his cheek and kissed him slowly and passionately. “For luck.”

“We’re gonna need it.” He chuckled, shaking his head and softly urging me forward. “Go on. I’ll be here when you need me. Make me proud, soldier.”

I laughed as I walked toward the palace wall, “don’t call me that.” He winked in response as I shot my grappling hook up at the balcony ledge and hit the trigger on my gun. I soared upwards quickly, reaching the railing in seconds and hoisting myself over the side.

“I was beginning to fear the worst had become of you.” Bail’s familiar voice rang out from somewhere beyond the white curtains at the mouth of the balcony entrance. Slowly, he walked into frame looking no worse for wear than he usually did, but with plenty of concern filling up his dark eyes. “I was more than sure you were okay. I trust your abilities and do not underestimate you. But stealing a Senate ship and lying about coming here, now you’re a real rebel. We should all be so proud.” He chuckled walking toward me to place his hands on the balcony railing, overlooking the sprawling gardens, fountains and trees down below.

“I learned it from the best, didn’t I?” I joked awkwardly, meaning that I had spent enough time covering for Senator Amidala to know when it was okay to break a few rules. Bail did his fair share of undercover relief work during the Clone Wars too, but he was always just covert enough to avoid ever being detected. Being showy wasn’t his style the way it was Padmé’s.

“I am relieved to see you’re alright. Many of our friends were not so lucky. The clones’ betrayal was unforeseen and tragic. Many Senator’s aides like yourself died trying to protect others, like the Jedi and…the younglings. But something isn’t adding up, is it? Things are not as they are presented to us.” He started, looking over my face with knowing interest and hoping my reactions would show I agreed with him.

��No, they aren’t. The Empire.” I scoffed darkly, scowling as I imagined the horrible things I watched the clones carry out that day, the terrifyingly unhinged reaction in Wrecker, the free will being torn from their minds like the flip of a switch. It was all his fault. The Chancellor’s doing. Somehow the order, the chip, Fives’ death…the Chancellor was the common denominator.

For now only Rex, Ahsoka and I knew this much. It was probably wise to keep it this way, so instead I spoke of politics. “We’ve discussed this. You know as well as I do that his powers overreaching our own can only mean one thing. Our Chancellor is a dictator, Bail. The Republic is gone. Free will. The right to choose. Gone. From our hands, the clones’ hands, our people’s…it’s all gone.”

Bail stood staring at me silently, his dark eyes glinting with understanding and a bit of anger I’d never really seen before. “You’re right. No Chancellor has ever had this much power. Not in our history, certainly not in my time or yours. But you speak as if you know something I don’t. I know you were close with the Coruscant Guard, I’m sure this must be even more difficult for you. I remember how much you fought for their right to citizenship and freedom. I’m sorry. I can’t fathom how it got to this point. Their betrayal…doesn’t make sense.” He muttered, shaking his head and closing his eyes as he too probably imagined the horrors he’d seen at the hands of clones.

“You…know it was against their will, right? They did not choose to do this. They were made to. Someone…maybe even the Chancellor himself…planted bio-engineered chips in their heads. It was Palpatine’s order that they were forced to obey. He overpowered millions of them, just like he did all the rest of us.” I shook with rage, Bail staring at me like I was certifiably insane.

“Chips? I’ve heard of brain implants…cyborg types. But genetic chips? That’s…a bit out there.” Bail said moving forward to touch my hand. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Bail, I know it sounds crazy. But please trust me. I have proof. I swear to you.” I pulled Tech’s datapad from my pocket and showed him all the brain scans of the clones, the chip's location and the structure of the chip itself. “This is from four different clones. Same spot in all of them. I’ve seen what the chip does first hand. We all did. It’s twisted, dark stuff. The Republic should’ve never approved such technology. Not if they knew this would be its purpose.”

Bail took a closer look at all the scans and inspected them closely, before setting them aside to grab my hands. “This is where you ran off to. To research this? You can’t have done this alone.”

He tilted his head quizzically, trying to piece together what he knew of my life before and how it applied to my behavior now. He knew I had a boyfriend. Someone I was seeing. He knew I’d take off work or leave early during certain times just to see him. I’d always thought I was careful enough to vary the time I left from the time his cruiser landed on Coruscant, but apparently not. Because when Bail turned to look at me the unthinkable left his lips.

“You love one of them, don’t you?” Bail asked, a suspiciously worried glance looking back at me. “All this time, it was a clone…do I know him?” He questioned, turning out to look down from where we were perched high on his balcony.

“You do.” I responded, swallowing thickly and feeling my hands start to shake. Bail stood rigid, his body propping him up more like an erected statue than a man. He looked frazzled and exhausted, like he’d aged decades in just a handful of days. He turned his face to look down into my eyes, a subtle smile crossing his normally stern, fatherly face.

“There’s only one whose absence I’ve noticed. The Republic, well those of us who remain loyal to it, remember him fondly. Widely regarded for his cunning wisdom, and respected as a gifted, noble leader. A wonderful choice.” Bail guided his hand along the stone wall, glancing for signs of a reaction from me that could confirm his suspicions. I stood frozen, unsure of precisely how much I should give away.

I could trust Bail. I always felt I could. Yet, I couldn’t confirm anything yet. I wanted to hear how much he knew. To gather any information I could to determine if I could trust him.

Noticing my silence, he continued, “Well these days when it comes to the Empire, those of us interested in…rebellion…know that missing in action doesn’t usually mean dead.” He rested his hand on my shoulder and gazed into my eyes with the same fiery hopeful determination that I always saw in Padmé. “Tell me it’s him. The Captain you both knew.”

I gulped, looking out onto the Alderaanian Royal Family’s palace garden. Rex was somewhere amongst the carefully trimmed hedges and beautifully tended to flower bushes. If I gave the sign, he’d come for me, just like we planned for in an emergency. But from everything I gathered, Bail already knew he’d lived. Somehow he knew. If he was talking of Rebellion then we weren’t in danger from him, we were in danger with him. He wasn’t going to give us up, but he did expect something from us. And I don’t know if that’s what I want. If that’s what either of us want. Selfishly, I want Rex to myself. For us to continue on our little missions alone. Bail could probably help get us in places, but maybe it was for the best that he not know who else was involved with me or why.

I shook my head, unable to meet his gaze anymore. He tutted softly like a disappointed Father. A sound I hadn’t heard in a long time. “It’s ok. I suppose I understand the hesitation. You want to protect him. I know what that’s like now, watching over the people you love. You both must be careful. You’ll find the remnants of former Republic senators who were once sympathetic to the clones are now terrified of the lot of them. Of the dangerous power they possess. Those in the Galactic Empire seemingly have no interest in helping clones and have no hesitation when it comes to…exterminating those left.” Bail sighed, sitting down on the bench to our left.

“Exterminating them? They’re human beings…that’s…genocide.” I said, horror straining through my voice, anger bubbling in my chest.

“Yes. But let’s not forget that the Empire was formed through the very same means. The Emperor and his puppets have no issue doing so again. I don’t know what you’re up to, but you both better prepare yourselves for the worst. I didn’t know what it meant. I thought it was fringe conspiracy theory but…there’s talk of using those inhibitor chips you speak of as kill switches. To snuff the life out of all of them at once.”

“Like droids.” I whispered, sadly remembering the sorrow on Rex’s face as he realized the irony of them being as expendable as the Separatist army. “If the chips are removed…then that no longer works.” I explained, recalling what Tech had taught us on Bracca. The chip controls the brain and can command any clone to do anything the Emperor asked. But once removed, they are biologically normal again, apart from their rapid aging. We knew this was the goal already. The kill switch concept was just the final push. The rapidly approaching expiration date for our plans to work. We had to extract them for whatever few brothers we could before this plan was put in place.

“Ahh removing the chips. That is how he survived isn’t it? That’s very clever.” Bail closed his eyes, smiling softly as he placed his closed hands in his lap. “I didn’t know that was possible.”

“It’s the only option. Otherwise they’re doomed for eternal enslavement. To them, that’s a fate worse than death.”

“Dying for the Republic was their duty. Although I never agreed with their lack of say in the matter, they found sacrificing their lives for freedom to be a great honor, no?”

“Freedom of choice is life’s greatest honor, Senator. Fighting for other’s freedom but not their own, being created solely for someone else’s purpose, the chips in their heads stripping them of any independent thought…they never had a choice. They didn’t have rights to their own lives. Dying for a cause is not an honor when their lives never had any meaning. It was as wrong to force them to fight for us then as it is now to force them to serve the Empire. Removing the chips sets them all free to live the lives they were always denied.”

Bail stood up with his eyes closed, his expression solemn and he reached forward to hold my shoulders. “You’ve come a long way from the little girl running intel to us from Coruscant’s criminal underworld. I’m very proud of you. What you say is very noble and very wise. I wish the Republic had shared your ideals when they voted on the creation of this army all those years ago…” he sighed, looking up at the moon illuminating the balcony and glimmering across the babbling fountains in his gardens. “Might’ve saved the universe from all the atrocities and horrors we’ve endured.”

“Seeing the love of your life come home each time a little more broken than when he left does that to you. They do not deserve the suffering we put them through. We all owe them. Freeing them is the only thing we can do that comes close to repaying them. Would your Rebellion stand with me if I spoke to them?”

Bail nodded his head, “I’m not sure how many of them share our passion for this. I’m not even sure many believe that the clones weren’t in on it from the beginning.”

The idea that they had somehow willingly chosen to go along with fascist genocide made my blood boil. As if my Rex would EVER do something so unspeakably horrific. If they didn’t believe the news out of my mouth…

“What if they heard it from him?” I asked, secretly hoping he’d be up for explaining everything to people I trusted.

Bail’s eyes widened, “he’d be willing to take that risk?”

I laughed, “You senators haven’t spent enough time around clones, have you?…he’d do anything for his brothers.” I glanced over the courtyard hoping to find some glimpse of him waiting for me to come back to him safely. If I took much longer, he’d get too worried to sit around and wait. Rex was always a man of action. If that action was giving a speech to convince senators to support us in our fight to save his brothers, then that’s what he’d do.

Bail hummed softly, understanding that if Rex would be willing to come out of hiding then this situation was as severe as we say. “They’ll at least listen if we vouch for him. I cannot yet speak to their ability to trust any clone enough to give him our support. These aren’t the outspoken senators we once knew. They are moving in secret. It’s all we can do now.”

He walked back inside his living quarters, opening a cabinet to hand me some water and food he had more than enough of to spare. I smirked, trying to imagine Padmé sneaking around to support a resistance effort. Totally something she would support.

“If you’ve somehow managed to find a way for Padmé to move in secret then I’ll be impressed.” I joked, taking a bite of bread for the first time in weeks. Suddenly, Bail stopped in his tracks, dropping the supplies he was gathering to the table and glaring at me with dismay. “What?”

Bail’s eyes closed and a single tear slid down his cheek. “Maker- you don’t know, do you?” He muttered sadly, collapsing into the chair at his dining table. I blinked in confusion, sitting down beside him and holding my arm nervously.

“Know- know what? What do you mean?” I asked, a sinking feeling pulling me down further into the chair. Like Alderaan’s gravity suddenly made me ten times heavier than I really was.

Bail Organa, the most stoic, proud and respected man in probably all of Galactic politics, emitted a shaky breath and a miserable whimper. “Padmé Amidala is dead.”

It felt like a rocket hit me in the chest, paralyzing me from taking in any breaths. Dead? How? How could she be dead? I felt tears beginning to pour and my body portrayed my shock even faster than my sobs could come. My mentor, my friend. Dead. I sobbed into my hands, Bail’s hand patting my back and pulling me into him like a comforting parent as I wept loudly.

“How…? When?” I asked, sitting back down in my chair and holding Bail’s supportive hand. He explored my face pensively, like he simultaneously knew everything and nothing all at once. Before he could answer, padded footfalls landed on the balcony, drawing his gaze away from me sobbing in front of him.

The white curtains framing the opening blew in with the wind, carrying with it the unspoken secret figure Bail knew was traveling the galaxy with me. The moonlight illuminated behind him, concealing the details of his identity in shadows behind the cloak he wore. The hood covered his face, his helmet stashed at his hip in a bag to cover it's undeniably unique markings. He loomed in the opening, both blasters drawn and legs parted, as he tuned into the sound of me sobbing only a few feet away. He scanned the room for droids or signs of any other people before stepping forward and removing his hood.

“Senator Organa, sir.” Rex spoke gruffly, still maintaining a formality he no longer needed to, but abided by out of respect anyways. His eyes were focused on me, shifting over the sight before him trying to make heads or tails of the situation. “What’s going on here?” He asked tentatively, desperately wanting to rush to my side to comfort me, but unsure of how his movements would be perceived. Was he seen as a threat here or a friend? Too upset to care about breaking the tension in the room, I stood up and bolted into his arms, resting my head on his shoulder and sobbing.

He immediately soothed me, his palm gently stroking the back of my neck to tuck me further into him. I pulled back and looked up at him with nothing but sorrow and pain glazing over my eyes. He scowled even heavier, the pain I was feeling made him upset too. “What happened?” He asked again, impatience filtering into his deep voice.

“Padmé Amidala is dead, Captain. I understand you knew her well. I’m so sorry.” Bail repeated, the tone of his voice softening into silence as he watched Rex’s expression break into heart wrenching sadness too.

Rex’s heart was pounding so hard I could feel it in his pulse under my fingertips. His grip on me tightened as we both collapsed under the weight of the truth. The sadness dragged us both to our knees, threatening to drown us in loss we couldn’t seem to ever escape from.

Bail let us sit there. I don’t even know for quite how long. But we sat on the palace’s floor and cried in each other’s arms. Her influence on our lives, on our jobs, on our relationship, on our galaxy. I wouldn’t have my job without her. I wouldn’t have explored even the idea of a relationship with Rex without her pushing me toward it. I wouldn’t have even half the strength, tenacity and courage I had to battle and continue on if not for the lessons she taught me. Her belief in me and the infectious power of her faith in the tenants of the republic made me who I was. Without her, how could the galaxy go on?

And Rex? Rex knew enough about her kindness and her compassion through Anakin. His General, his brother, one of his best friends in the universe. He had told endless stories about the quiet encouragement (and a ton of convincing of her husband) she’d given him to take the risk for me. To actually have something of his own. It was conversations with her while waiting for Anakin to come back from some wild scheme that helped him realize he was a whole person and he deserved to do things he wanted. She took time to teach him about political concepts that escaped him. She and Anakin together, even with all the trouble they’d put him through to keep their secret hidden, had made him a better leader and an even greater man.

We’d already begun to process the idea that General Skywalker was probably gone. There weren’t many Jedi left and one that great would’ve died trying to save the galaxy from the horrific circumstances we found ourselves in. But nothing could’ve prepared us to lose Padmé too. This was a hit we had not anticipated and it hurt worse than anything that had happened to us since the order was given. It was like darkness had finally penetrated the galaxy’s brightest star and took the last light of hope, freedom and justice with it. We were truly living in the darkest of times, with the beacon of good that was Padmé Amidala no longer here to show us the way out.

“How did it happen?” I spoke finally, holding Rex as he buried his face in my shoulder. I watched Bail slump in his chair, like he wasn’t fully prepared to discuss it himself. He ran his hands through his dark yet graying hair and exhaled slowly.

“We do not know for sure. Something happened sometime during the Jedi Purge. We think sometime during the Order…maybe she had gone to help her Jedi friends. She and…Skywalker…were very close. It’s…possible she went to help him in the end.” Bail muttered, wincing as Rex’s body trembled at the mention of his beloved General’s name. He pulled back, wiping his face quickly on his cloak and staring up at Bail.

“He wouldn’t have gone down without a fight. And they would’ve wanted to be together.” Rex muttered, nodding up at Bail in acknowledgment. Bail’s brows shot up in surprise and he sat back, studying the intense sincerity all over Rex’s face.

“You knew?” Bail asked him incredulously, getting up to grab us glasses of water.

“Think I was about the only one they actually told.” Rex admitted, fiddling with the bag holding his helmet still attached at his hip.

“You kept their secret all these years? To protect them?” Bail asked, kneeling down to our level and handing us the food and drinks as a gesture of comfort.

“I would’ve died to protect that secret.” He said, chin up and shoulders proud, the way he always looked to me. The honorable man I knew, that those who spent little time around clones rarely ever saw.

Bail reached a hand out to Rex and patted his shoulder. “I understand. Trust me. I do.” He explained, looking away toward a different far off part of the palace he had grown up in. As if he himself was protecting something unseen and unknown to us. Something about what Rex said had changed Bail’s demeanor because he had gone right back to the statuesque regal man that accepted me on the balcony an hour ago. “You’re a good man, Captain…forgive me, we were never formally introduced. I’d prefer to address you by your chosen name.” Bail offered, proving to Rex in just one sentence that this was someone we could both trust.

Senators didn’t usually care to learn the names of their clone protectors. If they knew them too personally, it would be too hard to think about sending them out to their deaths day after day. Treating them as people instead of Republic war property would force them to confront the moral injustice they contributed to from the day they co-signed the GAR’s creation. It was dehumanizing and bothered me so much it led me to seriously question my participation in the galactic senate at all.

Had it not been for Padmé sharing my beliefs that the clones deserved equal treatment I’d have quit years ago. Bail shared our beliefs too. He even initially voted no on the army’s creation out of moral principle. Ironic that now he was faced with the task of protecting the very men he believed should never have been made.

Rex stood up, awkwardly offering his hand to the Senator, instead of the usual salute. Bail didn’t see him as a rank or title, but rather his equal as a man.

“Uhh…my name’s Rex, sir. You can call me Rex.” Bail shook his hand politely and smiled warmly.

“I’m sure I don’t have to tell you you’re among friends here, Rex. You both look exhausted. Stay here for the night and we can talk more about rebellion tomorrow.” He offered, motioning down a hallway where I remembered guest rooms being.

I picked myself up off the floor and joined Rex’s side. “Senator…we can’t stay in any one place too long. We don’t want to put you at risk being here.” Rex gripped my waist tightly, as if I could be torn away from him at any moment. Bail was right. He did look exhausted and upset, but was too proud to admit he needed the help we were being offered.

I ran my hand up Rex’s chest and stared up at him with pleading softness in my eyes. He sighed, looking around the palace to scope out an exit strategy. “I suppose we can stay one night. To process. Stay somewhere safe for once.” Rex nodded, finally agreeing to Bail’s offer reluctantly.

“There’s no place safer.” Bail smiled kindly, starting down the guest hallway and motioning for us to follow. I held Rex’s hand as we crept down the hall in a slow huddle, our soft footsteps barely making sound. Bail seemed familiar with smuggling people into his home. It must’ve been happening frequently enough that safe rooms were set in the spare bedrooms filled with indistinct clothing, the finest toiletries to get cleaned and bacta patched up with, and enough pillows and blankets to supply all the clones I could name.

Bail showed us to an empty room and left us alone for the night, promising he’d have plenty of things to send us on our way with tomorrow morning. As the doors closed, I turned on my heels and threw myself into his arms. We’d been through enough trauma for one day. All I wanted was him.

His large hands gripped the back of my shirt tightly as he held me in his arms. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again.” He muttered in my ear, “saw you crying, cyar’ika…didn’t know what to think.”

“I was just…upset. And I’m so, so scared. If she couldn’t make it, how the hell are we going to?” I whispered, biting down on my lip to keep from letting the sadness overwhelm me for the second time today.

He pulled away, lifting up my chin to look in my eyes and flashing that cute little smirk. “Shh. It’s alright. No more tears now. Just let me see this perfect pretty face of yours…and we can get through anything.” The pads of his thumbs smoothed over my cheeks and I blushed as he stared deeper into my eyes with that familiar craving warmth flowing through his brown eyes.

I knew what he wanted. Honestly after the giant bomb that was just dropped on our laps, just being with him and blowing off steam sounded better than anything else. And somehow I think he knew that too. That just being together was what made us both feel better. “Rex.” I giggled softly, “how do you always know what makes me feel better?”

“Because I know you.” He responded, running his hands down my arms to reassure me. He pressed a soft kiss to the inside of my wrist, lips plush as he ghosted them across my skin, hot breaths contrasting the tepid draw of his tongue tracing patterns along the pulse in my veins. Slowly, his fingertips followed his lips, peeling back the layers of the clothes he knew I was itching to get out of.

“Be with me. Here. Just us. You and I.” He muttered between kisses now trailing my arms length and across my collar bones. He helped slip the shirt up over my head and guided my hands with his down his already shirtless chest. Pulling my exposed chest into him, he floated his calloused hands beside the swell of my rib cage, heaving slowly with each bated breath. His honey brown eyes, still pooling with sorrow, followed the path his hands traced, only to flick up at my face as I sighed out in soft delight.

“I am with you. I always have been. Always will.” I rested my palm over the part of him where I lived, where no wound could ever reach, where the scars the world left him with would always heal, where the soul of a man created to be just like the rest proved his worth soared well above the call of duty for which he was born. In that precious warrior’s heart where he’d given love my name and carried it with him as his battle cry. Fight hard, love harder and on and on until the day is won.

And he always did. He never stopped coming home. Where others met death or fate far worse, Rex survived. Even when it hurt more to live than to die, Rex came home. For all that he suffered, he deserved a love powerful enough to help him heal. I’d fight as he did, every passing second of every grueling day, to give that to him. To love him. And I wouldn’t fail. Because he never did.

My hand caressed the back of his neck, my thumb stopping to massage circles into the taut muscles and I cupped his perfect cheekbone in the other. My fingertips slotted into the dips, curves and lines on his face like I had carved them all myself. I could feel his arms trapping me in his grasp, pulling my far smaller frame against his broad one. He covered the small of my back with just one of his strong hands and the other gripped tightly to my hip bone, his thumb hooking into the layers of clothing still hanging unneeded there.

“You’re still wearing too many clothes, ya know. Bare it all for me tonight, ok?” He asked, his voice such a gentle whisper he seemed to surprise even himself. “I just want…want you to feel how much I love you. You’re all I want to feel right now.” He pressed his forehead to mine and sighed deeply, the cold truth weighing heavily on both of us.

“I’m only following your lead, baby. My pants come off when yours do.” I retorted, bumping our centers together and making him audibly huff out a pleasured exhale. “Take me so slow tonight. I want to feel nothing else but you. I love you, Rex.” I said, tipping my chin forward to press the softest kiss on his lips and inhaling his breath as a reminder that we were still alive. Both of us are still here.

“And I love you. That’s what we have to hold onto. No matter what. I can’t lose this. I’ve lost enough already. We- we both have.” He said, shuddering as the words left his lips and brushed against mine. He crashed our lips together, as if swallowing the thought in a kiss would make it less possible. With every gasp for air, the flood of emotion resurfaced between us. The atmosphere around us filled with nothing more than the purest whispers of devotion and accelerating panting sounds as both our desires for the comfort of each other took over.

Lips dragging against lips escalated to tongues synchronously dancing in amatory rhythm. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and clung to him for the support I needed. As if on instinct, he lifted me off my feet. With one wide hand gripping my back, he scooped me up with the other to intertwine my body around his. My eyes were shut, neglecting my surroundings to focus only on him, to let him overwhelm all my senses. Every kiss felt like the dragging on of hundreds of days we’d been forced to spend apart.

Those days were over, but the familiar uncertainty of his survival in war was being replaced by soul crushing loss in the supposed peace now happening around us. As if the cold clutches of the dark side that now consumed the universe would allow us to live together but only at the expense of the people we cared about. As if in darkness love could only exist if loss had its fill first.

The desperate need for air between us wasn’t just because physically we were taking the breath out of each other, but because loving each other was the only way we knew how to come up for air. The only way we knew not to drown in the depths of pain submerging two lost remnants of the Republic.

He was so soft. Softer than usual. Softer than he had ever tried to be before. He spilled us onto the bed in the center of the room, lowering my back down and not moving his hands from me until he knew my body was supported. He hovered above me, my legs naturally parting to allow his body to slot in between them. I rested both my hands on his face, clutching onto him for dear life as he rolled his hips against the heat of my center.

“I need you. Want to feel you wrapped around me…hear those perfect sounds you make for me…only for me.” He whispered, trailing kisses down my neck and smiling as I sighed at his words. “Yeah…like that. Just like that. Prettiest things I’ve ever heard. Can you give me a little more, mesh’la? I’m feeling greedy…” He smirked, tracing the curve of my breast with his hand as he nibbled gently on my collar bone. He laved over the fresh bite mark with his warm tongue and traveled lower, placing fervent kisses in a neat line down to where his fingers were pinching at the budding hardness of my nipple.

I arched my back into his touch, moaning a gentle approval. “Mmm I like it when you crave me.” His lips quirked as mischief drew a wicked line across them, a teasing thought no doubt crossing his mind. He flicked the bud with his tongue, watching my skin erupt in goosebumps at the motion, before circling his lips around it and tugging. It was subtle and soft, but it felt so good. I whined out loud, my fingers gripping the back of his neck and encouraging him to kiss deeper. His tongue swirled around my nipple and before long he’d moved to pay the other side the same gentle attention. “Maker, I forgot how good you are with that tongue, Rex.”

He tipped his head up from its position on my chest and cocked an eyebrow. “Then I’m just gonna have to jog your memory, cyar’ika.” He laughed, the rumble in his chest a welcome distraction from all the gut wrenching trauma of today. And every day since he’d come back to me. His lips started trailing down the length of my torso, soft lips worshiping every inch of my skin and branding me with overheated kisses.

He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of my bottoms and tugged them down slowly. Lust filled eyes glanced up at me as his kisses replaced where his hands had been. Each kiss dragged closer to where I needed him, my body trembling as heat simmered in my lower belly. His hands massaged at my thighs, pulling them apart to lay himself down between them. “Want to taste this pretty pussy…kiss you here until you’re dripping down my tongue. Is that what you want, mesh’la?”

I bit my lip and nodded, reaching for his hand and watching his eyes light up at my approval. “Yes, baby. Please.” I brushed my thumb across his cheekbone and scratched my nails softly along his scalp through his grown out blonde hair that was just starting to curl. He turned to kiss my palm, inhaling softly before running his fingers through my folds and circling my clit with a fingertip.

“That’s my girl. So pretty when you say please. So polite.” He cooed, hot breaths fanning over my wet heat. He dipped down and closed his lips around my clit, suckling softly and making a shudder ripple down my spine. Featherlight flicks of the tip of his tongue sent pleasure swirling in my belly. I bucked my hips upward, craving more of the delicious contact and he hummed. Strong forearms curled around my hip bones, holding me in place and preventing me from squirming.

“More, Rex. Lick my clit, just like that.” I whimpered, my breath catching in my throat as he thrust more pressure down on the bundle. The hungry eyes of a man who had not yet gotten his fill were gazing up at me, watching my face contort in pleasure at how he worked me. His hot tongue slid lower, collecting the wetness dripping out of me. His eyes rolled back in his head, his need to consume me leading him to trace the fluttering hole of my opening with his tongue.

I slammed my fist on the mattress as the overwhelming pleasure racked my body with spasms way sooner than I’d expected. “So impatient, greedy girl. Spilling all over my tongue like this. Tastes so sweet…all for me. You’re going to give me so many more. Aren’t you, my good girl?” Rex asked, flattening his tongue and dragging up my slit.

My eyes fluttered closed, tipping my head back against the mattress as he built up the undercurrent of pleasure all over again. “Yeees, Rex. As many as you want. I’ll be good. Promise.” I muttered, trying my hardest to push my hips toward him. He pinned them down with his forearm and spread my folds open with his fingers.

“Leaking little mess for me. Gonna make you drip more each time. Just so I can lick it all up again.” The bed was rocking beneath us from Rex’s hips rutting his painfully stiff cock into the sheets for relief. The coil in my belly was wound tight and painful, the pleasure rebounding faster than it ever had before. His tongue was delving deeper inside me, reaching just deep enough inside my walls to feel how it throbbed against him. He groaned, his nose bumping my clit repeatedly as he dug as deep inside as he could reach.

I could feel the white hot orgasm coursing down through all of my veins. He brought it on again, the torturous pleasure in my center gushing down to his waiting mouth at my entrance. “Fuck, Rex.” I cried out, my moans breathy and broken as my overworked body gasped for air. Broken sobs of his name left my lips as tears erupted just as my orgasm did. It felt so good I couldn’t help it. He hummed in satisfaction, collecting the drip I felt leave me onto his tongue. I gasped for air, my pulsating walls craving the delicious pressure and friction of his cock dragging against them.

“My strong girl…so perfect when you cum so much for me. Can you cum this pretty on my cock too? Want to watch you when my cock splits you open.” He groaned, his chest heaving as he lifted his chin still slick with my release. He reached down to tug at himself raggedly a few times. The contact made his head tip back and I sat up, chasing after him.

I slid forward to sit on his lap, sliding my slick along the rock hard shaft he couldn’t help but stroke impatiently. I pressed my bare chest to his and felt his arms trail up my back to clutch our bodies together tightly. I rolled my hips cruelly, smiling mischievously as our upright position made every part of our bodies touch. I tipped forward, resting my palms on the plane of his chest and whispering seductively in his ear “Split me open on that perfect cock, Captain. Please. I can always take you.”

He exhaled in satisfaction, more than tortured by my filthy words and salacious hip movements against him. His palms gripped the small of my back, guiding me into place above him. Slowly, he filled my insides to the hilt, making a low groan erupt in his chest. “Mesh’la…still so tight. Even after all I did to you. Oh fuck.” He hissed, slowly rolling his hips to start a building rhythm.

Each stroke was blunt, powerful and relentless. Our writhing hips moved together as one, a slow rocking that pulled him deeper and deeper, imagining that each time brought him closer and closer to splitting me in two from the inside out. Gut deep and pounding against my swollen walls, I tipped my head back and moaned his name in a drawn out, breathy symphony. “Reeeex…”

He groaned loud enough to match, watching me take every inch of him and losing grip on his own sanity to chase the high I was so close to providing him. He buried his face in the crook of my neck, my ears filling with the sound of his harsh, frenzied panting. “My perfect girl…taking all of me. You were fucking made for me. You’re mine. Always mine.” He rambled, his voice gruff and deep with unbridled lust.

“Always baby. Stars…Rex- fuck me.” I wailed, gasping as each roll of his hips forced my walls tighter around him. My thighs burned from twisting my hips in endless looping circles and sinking down on top of him so many times I could barely breathe. The pleasure in my core slowly burned through me like lava, white-hot, unforgiving and all consuming. Never before had he worked me up for this long, torturing me by keeping the remedying high of my orgasm just an arm’s length away. My body was slick with sweat, the slipping of skin against skin making his brushes against me even more frustratingly frictionless.

“Oh mesh’la I’ll never stop…I can’t stop myself you feel too fucking good…” Strong arms curled up my back, his hands clasping onto my shoulders to steady me as his hips snapped brutal jolts up into me. “Watch me. Look right at me. Love how pretty you look taking my cock. You fucking love it dont you? Tell me…” He demanded, his forehead pressed into mine and his eyes hungrily watched my face contort as I took him.

“Yes, Rex. I love it. I fucking love it. I…love you.” I muttered between needy kisses, our eye contact the only thing that remained steady as I gave all of myself over to him, my body resigning to his total and complete control. He smiled in satisfaction as I slung my arms over his shoulders and dug my nails into his rippling back. The drag of his cock inside me brought me sanctity and numbed me of any other feeling but this. Which was all we both wanted.

He crashed his lips into mine, breaking every so often to exhale in delight as my opening fluttered around him. “That’s right. I know you do. I know you. I…love…you.” He huffed between grunts of exertion, every sound he made ending in a whimper as the swelling of my heat around him made him more unwilling to pull out for even an instant. Our noses bumped, cheeks brushing as we moved as one, letting our dive into pleasure pull us both under.

I held the back of his neck with my hand as his moved to circle my clit, the perfect amount of pressure making pulses race through all my nerves and taking me just steps from falling over the edge. Every muscle in my body was seizing at once, my core screaming for relief he was so close to giving me. But I didn’t want to feel it alone. I wanted it for both of us this time. I moved my fingertips along his clenching jaw and held his gaze with mine. “Together, baby. Let go for me. Wherever you go, I’ll follow. Always, Rex…cum for me, baby. With me, Rex.” I cooed, watching his fondness for me ignite fiery affection in those deep brown eyes.

The burning tension in my belly snapped as his quick fingers jerked over my sensitive bud faster than before. His tip pricked up against a spot inside me so sensitive that bright sparks blurred my vision and tears immediately pooled up at the corners of my eyes. “There ya go, mesh’la. Fuck you’re right there, I can feel it. So fucking tight. So perfect for me. Mmmf, you’re gonna take me with you.”

My jaw dropped open as I struggled to emit sound or breathe air or do anything but feel him taking up all the space inside me that had once been empty. Every last inch of me that had ever felt incomplete was filled by him. His name fell from my lips in a repeated satisfied chant, soft and emotional and desperate for him.

I ran my thumb down his chin, pressing us into an open mouthed kiss. Our breathing in perfect synchronicity as we fell headfirst into our high together. His pistoning hips stuttered beneath me, sinking me into his lap and holding me there as we both spasmed in harmony. Inside me his cock stiffened, his body rolling as the power of his orgasm wiped every ounce of energy out of him from head to toe. My walls collapsed to receive him, the squelching wet sounds obscenely filling the room as I pulled him into me and held him there. I felt him jerk forward as he painted my insides with his warm release, a mix of us dripping down my thighs.

“Cyar’ika…fuuuuck…little more…” He grunted, dropping his head to my shoulder as he shuddered, spurting line after line of cum inside my spasming cunt. I ran my hands down his shoulder blades, cradling him in my grasp.

“Now I’m feeling greedy.” I teased, his pants and whimpers filling my ears as he fucked into me past the point of oversensitivity. The mind numbing tingling sensation spread outward into all my limbs and wiped away any thought that wasn't about him. I could feel him seeping deep into me, our pleasure hitting us so hard it was like neither of us could stop it.

“Oh Rex.” I sighed, slumping as the violent orgasm finally slowed. The clenching inside me released, threatening to slip me from consciousness with it. I giggled softly in the afterglow, caressing the lengthening hair at the nape of his neck. “Yours. Forever.”

I could feel his lips spreading into a smile against my neck, his arms gripping me into a tight hug. He lifted his head to gaze into my eyes again, always wanting to be face to face when he spoke to me. Because he respected me that much. “And longer.” He said, kissing my forehead and moving to lift me off him gently. I hissed at the loss, already missing the full feeling that overtook me seconds earlier.

I leaned back on my elbows on the nicest bed we’ve been in in weeks and spread my legs. The slippery mess he left inside me slowly dripped out my opening, making Rex chuckle with amusement. “You look too good like this. All filled up with me. I almost want to leave you this way.” He flopped himself down to join me, reaching down to clean me up with a washcloth he’d left beside the bed.

I grabbed for him, turning my body into his and feeling him protectively wrap himself around me. “Think you finally managed to tire me out, baby.” I whispered, closing my eyes as exhaustion pulled at my consciousness. Rex’s fingertips massaged up the back of my neck and he hummed his satisfaction.

“Sleep, my sweet cyar’ika. I’ll watch over you.” His words carried me closer and closer toward the rest every muscle in my body was craving.

“B-but…you should sleep…too.” I said sleepily, tucking my head into his chest and breathing in the scent of desire and musky sweat on his warm skin.

“I’ll be fine. Besides, you’re so pretty when you’re dreaming…looking at you is better than sleep.” He cooed, his hands traveling up my neck to stroke my hair so softly. I wanted to argue with him. To convince him that the palace was safe. That Bail would never do anything to hurt us. That even after all he’d witnessed and gone through in the past few weeks, he held no grudges against clones. He wouldn't turn his back on the men who had fought and died for the Republic and all its people, not when they needed him most. Rex was safe here. We both were. We finally had a powerful ally. We weren’t alone.

Rex really did need to rest and recharge with me. But he was stubborn and I was far too satisfied to keep my eyes open.

–

“Rex?” I whispered in his ear, my limbs tangled with his while we slept. I gently brushed my knuckles along his temple, leaving a trail of kisses after each touch.

“Hmm?” He asked, pulling the plush, expensive blanket up over his eyes. I chuckled sleepily, brushing our noses together as I kissed his lips gingerly. “You’re up too early.” He grumbled, the early hours of morning making his voice deep and gravelly.

“I think…I think I want to go see her. On Naboo. Say goodbye.” I muttered, feeling his hands pull me tighter instinctively. I thought about what she meant to us both. How none of this would be possible if not for her influence. The impact she had on people’s lives was immeasurable and irreplaceable. The hundreds of people who had given their lives for her over the years because they knew how important she was. How much of a difference she could make just by virtue of existing. We owed it to her memory to thank her. For everything. For more than she could ever know.

Rex was silent, his fingertips skirting up and down my bare back as his mind probably raced with thoughts of risk vs reward. Calculating how we’d get there, what we might face, if the danger was worth it to satisfy our conscience. “Baby…I know it’s risky. I know it doesn’t make sense but it’s…”

“It’s her.” He finished my thought, his eyes flicking open and resting his forehead on mine. His brow furrowed, his mind deep in thoughts and memories of time he’d spent with her. And his General. “I know. We have to go. No matter the risk. It’s what she would’ve done for us. They both would.” He sighed deeply, closing his eyes again and turning on his side to face me.

“I can talk to Bail in the morning. We’ll see the best way to get there safely.” I shut my eyes, ready to fall back into sleep cuddled up next to him. But instead Rex nuzzled his head into my shoulder and sighed. There was definitely something else on his mind. “What is it Rex? Talk to me…”

“I worry…about Ahsoka. She thought Anakin might still be out there. She swore she could feel something. But Padmé being gone too…this will crush her. She’s out there alone. And she probably doesn’t know.” He sighed, gripping my shoulder for comfort. “She’s too young…��

“We all are, baby. What we’ve all been through- no one should have to deal with. But we’ll do the best we can each day. Say a few words to Padmé for her and hope that someday soon she can go say them herself.”

“Yeah. I hope.”

–

In all my years of serving the Senate, I never stepped foot on Naboo. I never had time. The planet I served was Coruscant, the only place I lived for all my life. Coruscant was congested, smoggy, exhausting and overcrowded. But I did love it once. The hustle and bustle was exciting for someone like me, who always dreamed of one day living in one of the infamous skyscrapers that touched the clouds. To finally see sky and speeders and sun instead of fluorescents and neon signs and shadowy city streets.

Naboo was nothing like that. I had never seen so much color in my entire life. Everything was flourishing, lush and green. Flowers in every color I could imagine littered the sprawling meadows that surrounded Theed. Even the buildings were ornate, warm and inviting. It was a beautiful planet and it made all the sense in the universe that someone as star shatteringly perfect as Padmé Amidala was from here.

Rex and I absolutely did not fit in. We never would have in the first place, but especially not now. Not after being on the run for more than a month. Bail and Breha did their best to supply us with more clean civilian clothes, rations and such. They suggested we travel as refugees and dress ourselves as such.

Rex found an old helmet to hide his easily recognizable clone face and kept his most personal prized possession stuffed in his pack. I wore a somewhat tattered brown cloak that could cover my head if I needed. But we still looked foreign, plain and dirty compared to the endless beauty seen on everything from the flora to the faces of the people who lived here.

I did miss getting dressed up. Looking clean and organized and put together for some grand event. Meeting Rex in a closet or an empty room and watching him drool at the sight of me looking so good. I was tempted to do so now, just for the sake of blending in a little better. All of those times together, all that sneaking around was just a memory now. Memories tainted by all the nefarious things going on right under our noses. How naive we all were to believe we were making a difference. Even Padmé.

I recognized the gigantic green capped roof of the palace she always had paintings of in her apartment. The sprawling cobblestone streets were littered with water gardens, ivys and street vendors selling beautiful jewelry, clothes, fine art and foods. I gripped Rex’s hand as we walked through the crowd of the market we’d stumbled upon.

At the end of the street was a massive, stone staircase with statues of prominent Naboo kings and queens guarding the entrance. There, sitting at the center, was a monument dedicated to her. A newly carved marble piece that was her perfect likeness from the cascading curls down to the beauty marks on her face. It was her. There was no denying it. And that’s when I realized that this wasn’t a market. It was a celebration of her life. People gathered together to create something beautiful for a person that gave her all to her planet and her people.

Rex stopped, reaching forward to grab a poster from the side of one of the vendor booths. “They’re celebrating her.” He muttered, handing me the flimsy flier with artwork that had Padmé holding the scales of justice in her hands like she was a goddess sent by the force itself. It was beautiful work. And not far from the truth really. I folded the piece up and tucked it away safely in my pack to hang up in our bunk on the ship.

“Of course they are. They'll probably dedicate a month-long holiday to her. She was beloved, Rex. The best Queen they’d had in a thousand years.” I smiled, remembering the way she rolled her eyes and blushed whenever someone heralded her as such. She was modest even when she had more than enough accolades and accomplishments to prove she no longer had to be.

“Think Skywalker would’ve dedicated the whole galaxy to her. He was crazy about her. As long as I knew him…he’d put everything on the line, missions, ships, himself…he’d do anything for her. At first I didn’t get it. But-” He reached for the tiniest white flowers which adorned every booth on the street, the petals opening as he handed it to me. He brushed my hood back slightly, just enough to let him see the sunshine light up my eyes.

I felt my own face blushing at the gesture, even under the cool shade of my cloak. I wished I could see his face, the sweet, slight smirk that only ever looked right on him and the nervousness in his eyes as he waited to see how I’d respond to him. “But?” I asked, stepping closer to him and lacing my fingers with his. The foreign armor didn’t suit him like his clone armor did, but the anonymity meant I could be as affectionate with him in public as I wanted to without worrying.

He stepped forward, walking us arm in arm down the street toward the Theed Royal Palace entrance. “But…then I met you. Now I know the feeling. I understand risking everything for the people you care about. You, my brothers, Ahsoka. I finally understand. And I guess I really have the two of them to thank.” He explained, turning his helmet to pan over the street before us.

The vendor booths were behind us now, the space along either side of the street replaced by thousands of the same white flower Rex had just handed me. Some were old, browning and shriveled from neglect, but great care was taken to replace them by hand with bright, crisp new ones. Just like the one I held. These must’ve been the flowers her people left for her. That filled the streets the day they all laid her body to rest somewhere among the tombs the sprawling palace reserved for people as important as her.

The looming statue stood before us, the waning light of day reflecting off the pristine marble surface. I’d expect nothing more beautiful for her. The artisans and sculptors who lived on this planet must’ve worked tirelessly for days on this. It was her spitting image, donning the garb and heavy makeup she wore as their Queen but holding the symbol of the Republic in her hands. The very same symbol she had all over her office and in honorary medals and plaques she had always kept on her desk. This was how I remembered her. Even without being all done up, this was her. Their Queen.

“It’s perfect. Not a hair out of place.” I whispered, resisting the urge to touch the work of art. To feel if maybe it could convey her pulse the way it did her spirit. Rex slung his arm over my shoulders and pulled me into him, rubbing my arm comfortingly.

“It is. He would’ve loved it too. The whole 501st- well hell almost every clone I knew thought she was an angel. For a lot of us, she was the first woman we’d ever really seen, who looked at us back. She was so kind, supportive…she saw us as men. Never treated us any different. Fought for us on her own battlefield like we were lives that actually deserved defending.”

“You should’ve seen how she talked about Anakin. And you. She spoke out, using her every breath to try to bring an end to this war faster. If only so she could bring you all home. Especially her Ani. I’ve never seen love like that before. Not before I’d met her. I don’t remember my parents, Rex. Not really anymore. But I remember Padmé showing me the way. Taking my hand and guiding me forward into a world of caring for others like she did.” I felt the tears beginning to pool at the corners of my eyes, sniffling as I realized she was every bit the parent, the mother I never had.

“They were unstoppable together. There’s nothing they could not accomplish fighting side by side. She fought at the Battle of Geonosis. My first battle. She could outrank us all.” He laughed softly, looking up at the statue and quieting down. The realization that they were both gone was finally hitting home. His General would never have left this galaxy without her. He was gone and although this funeral, this celebration, was for her. In Rex’s mind, it was for Anakin too.

I looked around for the continuation of the white flowers swirling in the breeze down the path her funeral procession must’ve taken. A long winding dirt path crossed over the river that ran alongside Theed Palace. To the final resting place, her tomb. The sun was sinking fast over the green domed buildings of the city, painting the sky pastel hues of pink, purple and orange against the cobblestone structures. I turned to Rex, the tears brimming in my eyes glittering in the sunset. I motioned down the path for him to follow. It was time.

He nodded and walked forward, holding my hand tightly in his as we headed down the path, both of us trying hopelessly to keep it together. At least he had a helmet on, anyone could see the sorrow screwing up my face from a thousand clicks away. There were so many things I wanted to say roiling in my mind. I could barely think. Rex probably felt the same, though he was a lot better with words under pressure than he’d ever admit.

The number of people around us dwindled down to nothing, the beauty of the evening calling people away from the saddest place on the planet and into the arms of loved ones they still had the privilege of holding close. A privilege Rex and I were clearly only afforded a finite amount of. The path we traveled on was freshly worn from the thousands of people who’d walked it to say their goodbyes. It must have been fairly recent that they carried her here. The procession couldn’t have been more than a few days ago.

The worn footsteps digging into the fresh dirt stopped at a modest building with the same stone columns and green capped roof. Two sandstone pillars framed the entry to the closed final resting place of the larger than life person it was constructed to contain. In the center of the entryway was a statue even more beautifully lifelike than the last.

It was meant to be identical to the fantastic, idyllic size of the one on the palace steps. Yet this one felt alive. The determination and compassion carved into the eyes on her face was so real I could almost see her blink. We both stopped in our tracks, completely frozen in place. The image of her before us guarding the way in felt more believable than the idea of her cold, lifeless body hidden away from the world inside.

I stepped forward, unafraid to touch this statue, reaching out to hold what was left of the woman I knew. Although it looked like her, dressed like her, resembled her face, it was just stone. She was no longer as real as she was in our memories. And like that the waterworks came again. I wrapped my arms around myself, letting tears fall as I processed what she meant to me. How going on in life, especially at a time like this, without her will be the hardest thing I’ll ever do.

“Padme. My mentor. My fearless leader. The Mother I knew. My most compassionate, loving friend. It…feels like I was carried here today on the wings of your spirit. By the light that you taught me to follow. That you taught me to see. To say you’d be proud of what I’ve done for others up to now would be an understatement. I finally understand the gratifying power of dedicating your life to others. The galaxy now is a twisted, dark and warped place. We always knew dictatorship was a frightful thing. I’m almost glad you aren’t here to see what it has become. I wish we’d seen it coming. A life without freedom to choose is no life at all. I know it would’ve broken your heart to watch the Republic go down a path you could not follow. But we, Rex and I…we won’t give up. Fighting for the people that need us…for the people we love is the greatest lesson you could’ve ever taught me. And I’m sorry that fighting to protect him is how you died. It shouldn’t have been this way. Not for you. Not for any of us. Padme, I promise that no matter what we do, we’ll fight for the voiceless. For the rights of the innocent. For every brother Rex has and for every person who believes in the democracy you built…we won’t let that liberty die. I hope that wherever you are, Anakin is with you. I don’t think he could bear to live any life without you, the love of his life. I know I couldn’t go on without mine. I’ll love you always. Goodbye, my friend. May the Force be with you both.”

I heaved for air, stepping back to look up at the statue again, as if I was expecting her voice to carry out of it in response. Rex walked up beside me, pulling me into his chest and holding me tightly. He knew well enough that right now words weren’t needed. He just had to hold me, be there. To be the proof that good things do still exist out there somewhere. That all the light in the galaxy hasn’t died yet. Not as long as he stood here beside me.

He held me for a long time, letting me sob hard enough to wet his shirt with my tears. His chest was stuttering, the threat of his own tears falling making his breathing ragged and unfulfilling. He tore the helmet off, tossing it at his side, disregarded and unimportant. I looked up at him and for the first time saw him in a kind of pain no one ever wants to witness in the love of their life. His brown eyes were clouded with misery, biting down on his bottom lip to hold back the tears he’d always been too proud to shed. He looked too young, far too young to know loss of this magnitude.

His shoulders fell and he pushed himself away from me, stepping forward and slumping to his knees before her. He pulled his real helmet from his bag and sat it at her feet, his reflection staring back. His ungloved fingers buried themselves in the ground at either side of him, collecting the downtrodden dirt between his fists.

“...I’m sorry, Senator. Padme. At every turn, I have failed you. Your army failed you. The Republic was ours to protect, yet it was us who they used to make it fall. The Jedi are gone and it was by our own hands. It’s my fault. My General, my brother, your husband is dead. Killed by his own men, my men. And it’s my fault. Because a weapon for destruction is all I was ever supposed to be. Our existence was a curse from the very beginning. No matter what, everything I promised you both was always doomed to fail. Because I’m not a hero. I’m just a clone. And I’m sorry that who I chose to be could never be more than that. I expected to lose a lot of men. I expected to die in war, not survive amongst the ashes it created. It should be you both standing here to bury me. I’m sorry I could protect your secret better than I could protect you.” He hung his head, unable to look up at her face anymore.

Without thinking, I fell to my knees beside him. I cradled him in my arms and felt him let loose in my arms. He jerked softly as he silently cried, the guilt of surviving eating him alive. I rested my cheek on his and let the stability of my chest guide his breaths to calm him down. No man should have to live with the doomed fate of the lost galaxy on his shoulders. Not even men built to outlast it all could bear its weight.

His helmet sat at her feet, the dark visor staring back at him almost mockingly as he sobbed on his knees. Suddenly, a misted cloud of fog slipped away, the final light of the setting sun glinted blindingly on the reflective surface. It was like Padmé herself had emerged from beyond to flash a beacon of hope onto the one man who needed it most. She always did have a way of finding the solution to any problem. And it seemed that even from out there in the mystery of the cosmos, she’d found one again. In him. She saw what I did. A man who despite the odds refused to step aside. A man who was once again the Queen’s hope to lead the worthy forward into the light.

He stuck his hand into the ray of sunset, looking back at the source of it and closing his eyes. With a sigh, he picked up his helmet again, tucking it under his arm and picking up a loose cobblestone beside the left pillar. With a knife he dug out of his bag, he carved into the stone, with only that last ray of sun to light his way.

“A secret kept is a promise unbroken. For the light that led the Republic was always with you.” He signed it, The Captain, before tracing his jaig eyes mark very lightly underneath it. The message was cryptic and probably indistinct to anyone who didn’t know well enough. But it was perfect. The secret was their marriage. Rex had kept it always, even past the time of their deaths. The light that led the Republic was the way I had always referred to her in a poetic sense. Her generous yet fierce heart fighting for all the good that was left in the galaxy. But it could also be interpreted another way, by only those who knew enough to understand it.

To Rex, to all the clones really, the light that led the Republic was their General. Anakin Skywalker was the Hero With No Fear, most especially to his men. He cared for all of them, fought with them side by side for years, encouraged them to think for themselves, follow their best instincts, defy the rules and be their own men. Real men. Not numbers. But, as Rex came to find out, in all that time Anakin’s heart was with her. Always. Both heroes to the Republic in their own right had found themselves devoted to each other too. And Rex knew that secret before anyone else. They trusted him with that. For he knew loyalty like no other. Not because he was bred to but because that’s who he chose to be. Their most loyal Captain.

The message was left on a loose brick tucked into the cobblestone pillar holding up the building housing her final resting place. It was inconspicuous enough to be ignored by most, but the right eyes would find it. Force knows they always seemed to.

As suddenly as we arrived, we had to go. The beauty of the planet from before had seemed to go cold as night fell upon the outskirts of the palace. Rex and I walked hand in hand for a long time in solemn silence, following the dirt path along the length of the river that led back to our ship docked in the outskirts of the swamps.

By the time we reached our ship, the murky twilight of the swamp had us soaked in mist and beyond ready to leave this planet behind for good. Rex removed his helmet as we climbed up the ramp, wiping his eyes with the heels of his palms and guiding us both into the comforting warmth of our beaten up old freighter. Never before had this ship seemed so homey.

–

Notes: I am so, so sorry for the pain and the sad. I cried many, many times writing a lot of this and I genuinely hope this is the last very draining sad bit for a long while for these two.

taglist (please let me know if you'd like to be added/removed): @starwarsmeninhelmets @moonstrider9904 @thefact0rygirl @fett-djarin @zinzinina @literallydontlook @love-like-poetry @captainrexi @galacticgraffiti @kaminocasey @calkestiis @pedropascalsx @ashotofspotchka @pinkiemme @queenquazar @eternalwaffle

#wip captains log chapter 8 #wip captains log #captain rex x f!reader #captain rex x you #captain rex x reader #captain rex x fem!reader #post order 66 #post order 66 rex #captain rex smut #the clones smut #star wars fanfiction

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greyias · 3 years ago

Note

A Night Out in Rishi from the WIP list :)?

This is technically located in my Fic O Doom Scrivener file 😂 and is meant to tell the story of exactly how Theron found himself dragging a very drunk Jedi across Rishi in the middle of the night:

One would think that being stuck on a tropical paradise filled with pirates, booze, and beings with loose morals that Jakarro would have gotten his fill of revelry and celebration while their intrepid trio worked to find out the Revanites’ plans. (Or was it a quartet technically? Theron had to wonder, did Deefour really count?) Then again, Jakarro did remark quite often that he had to make up for his companions’ lack of celebratory spirit. This was said as he plucked the datapad out of Theron’s hand and flung it unceremoniously to the couch in their shared living space in their safehouse, before he promptly did the same with Lana’s stack of surveillance data that she was sorting through. Their combined protests were drowned out by the competing voices of the Wookiee and his droid companion/fashion statement as they descended into an argument over the best watering hole to celebrate the reunion of their merry band of ne’er-do-wells—oh, and maybe heroic rescue of the people the Nova Blades had enslaved.

It's a bit rambly, so I might wind up just rewriting this whole thing. For some reason in my head, there was a lot more partying on Rishi than the sad little affair in the hideout with that server astromech.

#thanks for the ask!#wip ask game #the fic o doom #will never be truly done will it?

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swtorpadawan · 4 years ago

Text

Secret Messages

Author’s Note: The following story takes place sometime between chapters 13 and 16 of “Knights of the Fallen Empire”.

“That will be all everyone. Thank you.” Corellan Halcyon, the Alliance Commander concluded the meeting with the assembled command staff in the main conference room in the operations wing.

Vette gathered up her data pads. In less than two weeks, she’d made a place for herself here on Odessen. The skills she’d developed years ago as part of Kael’s old crew had netted her the position of communications specialist, which meant she had the chance to see the inner workings of the Alliance’s command structure first-hand. Indeed, Vette was one of only two aides present – the other being the Commander’s little AstroMech droid, Teeseven. Given that the Alliance was only a few months old, and that it was essentially a “motley” collection of defectors from the Republic, the Sith Empire, Zakuul and various other factions throughout the galaxy, she found it very impressive. The people here were motivated; despite their differences, everyone wanted to take down the Eternal Throne, and incredibly, everyone seemed to trust that the ‘infamous Outlander’, this former Jedi Master, would be the one to do it.

After seeing him in action on Vandin, Vette found that she was starting to believe it, too.

As people made their way towards the exit – led by Doctor Oggurobb (how the heck could any Hutt possibly move that fast?) – the Commander looked over at her.

“Oh, Vette. Do you have a minute?”

Vette blinked, surprised that the Commander – Corellan, he’d asked to be called while in private – would call on her. She nodded over to him in acknowledgement, feeling a brief upswell of anxiety as she waited for the others to clear out. She knew perfectly well that the feeling was a legacy of having been enslaved twice in her life but knowing that didn’t ease her nerves.

Which was funny. The Commander was entirely different than anyone else she’d worked with. He was barely older than she was, but she looked up to him. Honestly, Corellan Halcyon was one of the nicest people she’d ever met. He never got angry or even raised his voice with anyone and whatever frustration he experienced only seemed to manifest as steely resolve. She’d have thought – having watched Kael in action years ago – that all this would have made for a weak leader.

It didn’t. If anything, it just made people not want to disappoint him.

So for a moment, Vette felt nervous that she’d somehow disappointed him.

Weird that I thought he’d be like Quinn. she mused to herself. The stick-up-his-ass Imperial officer had been the most repressed man Vette had ever met. More than once, she’d speculated aloud that Quinn could have made a good Jedi had he been a Force-sensitive born in the Republic. This had proven an excellent way to antagonize him, which, of course, only encouraged Vette.

Good times.

As the room emptied save for herself, Corellan and Teeseven, Vette made her way over to him, clutching her datapads. He’d been standing at the middle of the table during the meeting while Lana Beniko and Theron Shan sat at his right, with Teeseven at his left. Come to think of it, he was the only person in the room who’d remained standing during the entire meeting. His place at the table didn’t even have a chair.

Weird.

“Uhm. Is there a problem with the communiques, Commander?”

Corellan, who had been looking down at his own datapad, turned towards her.

“Hmm? Oh, no. Not at all, Vette. You’ve been doing excellent work.” He smiled at her reassuringly. “I’m glad you chose to stay with us.”

Vette exhaled in relief, not realizing she’d been holding her breath.

“Great. Great. Thanks. So… uhm. You wanted to talk?”

“Right. Its rather awkward.” Corellan turned to look down at Teeseven. “Tee, can you load that message from yesterday?”

Teeseven beeped his approval, apparently requiring no more clarification than that. A second later, the Commander’s data pad chimed. He pressed a button.

“So I received this direct message in error. It’s probably related to the new directory security system Theron just setup. But it was apparently intended for you.”

He handed the pad over to Vette who looked down at the text.

From: Avus Dayne

Subject: My blue flower

Vette,

You don’t know me, but I’m a pilot with the Alliance fleet. I noticed you the second you stepped on Odessen, and I've been watching you from afar ever since.

Sorry, that's creepy, isn't it?

Anyway, I wrote a poem:

‘My flower of blue,

I pine for you.

Your laugh is so cute,

And your head tentacle things are also cute.’

It needs work. But the point is, I think you're pretty and I was wondering if you want to get a drink together.

If you don't, tell me and I'll leave you alone forever.

Avus (that's my name)

“Uhm. Wow.” Vette felt her cheeks turn faintly purple with a blush.

She was embarrassed. Part of her wondered if she should be offended. It was just a little creepy, sending someone a message – much less a poem! – out of the blue like that. Then again, Vette had met more than her share of real creeps over the course of her life. She didn’t get that sort of vibe from this letter.

The Commander waited a beat before continuing.

“Now this is none of my business, you understand.” Corellan added, his voice amicable. “I’m only talking to you now because the message was addressed to you, so I felt you deserved to see it.” He paused. “He did send me a follow-up message, that I’m willing to share with you, but only if you’re interested.” Corellan glanced down at the pad. “Just click the ‘Next Message’ button.”

Vette pursed her lips for a second, chewing that over, then overcome by curiosity she finally tapped the pad.

From: Avus Dayne

Subject: DO NOT READ PREVIOUS MESSAGE

My sincerest apologies, Commander. That message was not intended for you. Please delete it without opening.

But if you did read it... Do you think I have a shot?

Vette chuckled at the words, taken with the awkwardness of this guy. The messages were ridiculous, but at the same time, they were so earnest, too.

“Huh.” She finally said.

Corellan regarded her for another second, giving her a moment to think about things before pressing on.

“Like I said, its none of my business. I was just passing these on to you. I haven’t responded to him. Nor do I plan to do so unless you ask me to.”

“Uhm. Well. Thank you.” she exhaled, relieved that this situation hadn’t become more complicated.

Vette was feeling disconcerted by the whole thing. Until a few years ago, Vette hadn’t been used to people expressing an ‘interest’ in her. She’d spent most of her life in the shadow of more conventionally attractive women like Tivva, Risha and Taunt. All three had been sisters and like-sisters to Vette, but she’d always envied their confidence and their looks, and the attention they’d drawn. Then later there was Jaesa – never a friend, but another young woman who’d made her feel insecure. Vette had had a crush on Kael; she could admit that to herself now. But she’d eventually stifled it. He’d been nice to her, or at least nicer to her than most of her employers over the years, but she had no illusion about who he was what he could do. He had not been a nice guy. Jaesa was welcome to him, for all the good it had done either of them in the end. That had been years ago, though, and most of the people she and Gault had dealt with since then weren’t the type she wanted to be involved with. Not in that way.

Still, she had felt more comfortable about life in general in the weeks since she’d joined the Alliance…

She looked back down at the datapad.

“So. Uhm. What do you think?” she asked aloud.

“I’m sorry, what do I think regarding what?” Corellan raised an eyebrow.

Vette nibbled her lower lip. She’d never imagined having a conversation like this with a Jedi. Or ex-Jedi, even.

“I mean, do you think I should meet him? For a drink, or whatever?”

The Commander blinked.

“Well. I was a Jedi, Vette.” He explained himself. “Even if I’ve left that life behind, I’m probably one of the least qualified people to ask about things like that.” He looked down wistfully. “With the exception of my association with one rather philandering field medic, I have little experience with… uhm, courtship.” Corellan stammered a bit near the end, as if he had been trying to find the words, awkwardly.

It was funny to think of the Commander, who she’d personally seen storm through legions of Sky Troopers, as awkward about anything. He normally exuded confidence and poised.

“Yeah.” Vette swallowed. “Me neither, actually.”

Vette winced. That was way too personal a thing to say. She and the Commander hardly knew each other.

“But uhm. What are your… impressions of him, I guess?”

“Well.” Corellan took the datapad again and clicking back to the original message and considering. “I must say he sounds sincere to me. And he seemed a reputable individual from his personnel file, for whatever that’s worth. There was nothing to suggest he would do anything unpleasant to someone he was working with.”

Vette started to nod in appreciation, then stopped herself, noting what he’d said.

“You, uhm, read his file?”

“I did.”

“Because his message went to you and not me?”

“No, not at all. I look over everyone’s file.”

Vette blinked. The Alliance was still small compared to the other galactic powers, but all told, they still had hundreds of members by now, with more signing up every day.

“Everyone’s? I mean, that must take you forever.”

Corellan frowned a bit, gathering his thoughts.

“Well, I’m embarrassed to admit this, but I haven’t been able to meet everyone in person, yet. We send so many of our people out on missions at any given point and there just isn’t enough time. But learning their face and their name, that at least is a start. For me, anyway. So every evening when I head back to my quarters, I have Teeseven load up some personnel files.” He smiled affectionately, patting the chassis of the AstroMech droid’s top. “It takes some time but it’s worth it and it makes for good bedtime reading.”

His expression had softened, his light blue eyes dwelling on a less complicated time.

“The idea that there are people working for me, even fighting for me, who I don’t even know is… well that’s a new one for me. It’s one more thing I’ll have to get used to, I suppose.”

Vette found herself charmed by this sentiment, though it also concerned her just a bit. In her experience, people in positions of power rarely did things like personally checking on every who worked for them. If he was losing sleep over minutiae, that could be bad for everyone.

For the moment, she kept on track.

“And you remembered Avus, just from skimming his file?”

He shrugged, indifferently.

“Actually, I don’t forget anything.”

Vette’s eyes widened.

“That’s a neat trick.” She whistled. “Is that from being a Jedi?” she hadn’t recalled Jaesa ever demonstrating instant recall like that.

“Thank you. And no. Its just something I’ve always been able to do.” Corellan shrugged again.

“Well, I wish I could do that.” Realization came to Vette, as she attempted to digest all of this. She eyed the Commander worriedly.

“So… you’ve probably read my file, too.”

“Well, yes.” He’d obviously picked up on her concern but seemed non-plussed about it, not comprehending the bantha in the room Vette had been hinting at.

“Uhm.” She paused but couldn’t leave it alone. “You must know I used to work for Kael.”

Corellan nodded with understanding, his face growing somber.

“I do.”

She looked up and regarded him.

“You still trust me with… your communications? And the field work, and everything?”

Corellan Halcyon’s face finally relaxed. This seemed familiar ground for him.

“You’ve given me no reason to think I shouldn’t. And the quality of your work speaks for itself. We couldn’t have raided the Gilded Star without you.” He spoke confidently, then gave her a reassuring look. “Vette, what happened between myself and Kael was never personal for me. Yes, he did things I considered monstrous, but so did nearly every other Sith Lord I’ve fought. He had his reasons for fighting Revan after Vitiate rejected him. When we finally fought on Yavin, I felt his rage and the pain behind it. And I exploited those weaknesses to beat him.”

He sighed in regret.

“I truly regret that I couldn’t find another way. But there were countless lives on the line and I still had to deal with Revan. And the Emperor. So it went the way that it did.”

Corellan’s light blue eyes re-focused on Vette.

“For what its worth, I’m sorry. I know you weren’t working for him at the time, but that had to have been difficult when you heard what happened.”

Vette looked down at the table. Those were old wounds. She didn’t want to get into all that right now.

“Someday I’ll tell you about my time with Kael and his crew.” She swallowed. “But for what it’s worth, I don’t hold any of that against you.”

It was Corellan’s turn to nod in relief.

“I appreciate that.”

Vette awkwardly looked down at the datapad again.

“I think… I’ll send him a message. Just to see how it goes.”

The Commander smiled slightly.

“Sounds good.” Then he paused, an idea popping up in his mind. “Oh, but if you do wind up telling him you’re not interested and then he bothers you again, then absolutely come to me. I’ll take care of it if there’s a problem.”

Vette found herself grinning at the offer.

“I wouldn’t think you had much experience in scaring off creeps.” She mused.

A small grin formed across Corellan’s lips.

“I don’t, really. But as it so happens, my personnel resources director is a Sith Lord.” He offered, his eyes sparkling a bit. “She’s very… persuasive when it comes to conflict resolution.”

Vette laughed at that, breaking up what had become a heavy mood. Lana Beniko was the model of professionalism, but she was scary.

“Okay. Well… thanks for talking to me about this. And for being okay about everything.”

“Not at all. Thank you for being here.” His chrono pinged. “Ah. I have to go meet with Hylo to discuss the logistical situation.”

“I’ll leave you to it.” Vette smiled. “I should get back to the war room.”

“Sounds good. I’ll talk to Theron about the bugs in the directory system.”

With that, they parted company.

Vette smiled to herself as she left the conference chamber. She’d meet with this ‘Avus’ guy. Maybe it would be okay. Maybe it wouldn’t. But Vette felt that she’d be okay either way.

It was a good feeling.

Author’s Notes: The mis-sent letter has always been one of my favorite moments in KOTFE.

For the record, in this continuity, Vette does meet with Avus for a drink. He’s nice enough, but she decides he’s not for her. He’s okay with that. They remain friends to this day.

Corellan rarely sits down, except for the pilot seat of his ship. The reason for this will come up some day.

I’ve made references to Corellan’s eidetic memory in the past, but it rarely comes up so directly in a story.

I do kind of ship Vette with someone in this continuity. But that comes much later in my story.

I don’t know how Avus didn’t know that they are called “lekkus”.

Kael was not a nice Sith Warrior. More on him another time. @swtor-writers-guild , @swtorshipping

#swtor #swtor fanfiction #secret messages #swtor fanfic #tales from the eternal alliance #oc: corellan halcyon #vette #vette swtor #avus dayne #the halcyon legacy

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writing-in-april · 5 years ago

Text

Last Name

Vague Poe Dameron x Gender Neutral reader

Starring- Reader, Hux, Poe (mentioned)

Warnings- Torture, blood, swearing, guns, normal Star Wars content just a little bloodier

A/N- This is a new fandom for me to write for so here’s to branching out! I’ll still post for Spencer Reid hopefully once a week but I have a bunch of other things I’d like to write for as well!! Thank you Discord for helping me with this especially my beta readers @agntprentiss @fanficlibrary82 and @onedirectionfansarelegends (This was the only way I could tag her for some reason) This idea literally came to me in a dream and I just had to write it down (it was supposed to be a blurb then came out to be 2k words 🤷‍♀️) Requests are open!! @april-14-blog is my main blog where I reblog smut and fluff.

My head felt like it was on fire, that was the first thought that shot through my head as I came to. I struggled to pry open my eyes, it felt as if I had the weight of a starsystem pulling them closed.

Slowly my senses started coming back to me, I could tell I was strapped to a metal chair with binders around both of my wrists. They were bound tight, tight enough that I could feel the harsh metal digging into my flesh. I must’ve been captured from my latest mission for the resistance, though I could barely recall the details. All I could evoke from my memory was landing on the planet Kashyyyk, I was supposed to meet up with a spy who had critical information for new hyperspace lanes.

Suddenly the metal panel slid open snapped me out of my memories. The harsh scraping of metal on metal setting my teeth on edge. The anticipation of who was going to walk through was like sitting on needles and the hairs of my neck where standing straight up. My eyes were still adjusting to the harsh lighting that was casting varied shadows throughout the room. A silhouette came into my view and I could immediately tell who it was even without being able to see the details of his figure.

General Hux, a smarmy high ranking officer of the First Order. Well at least it wasn’t Kylo Ren.

“Y/N Y/L/N data analyst for the resistance.” Hux sneered from the shadows. “We have a whole file on you, you hold key information about resistance tactics and locations. Resistance is futile, just give us the data” he stepped forward which allowed me to take in his slimy appearance. His eyes looked dead, no emotion was given away, I knew there was no weaseling my way out of this. I’d have to fight my way out.

I completely blocked out Hux’s voice, letting it play in the background like a broken audiobulb, which helped me absorb the blows that started coming at my stomach from a stormtrooper. Eventually they moved up to my upper shoulders and face when it was clear they were getting no reaction from me.

My mouth was steadily filling with crimson blood, which gave me an idea to further goad the general. I spit the blood at Hux spraying his face scarlet and delivered a devilish insult.

“Eat my shit, you flaccid son of of a street whore” I said with a bloody smirk, he was going to have to try harder if he wanted to get me to speak.

“You rebel scum” he spat out at me. Then with a raised fist he punched me in the nose with a sickening crack. “You’ll never leave here, you’ll rot in a cell. Even if you do attempt to escape it’s not like you know how to fly. We’re in the middle of deep space and you’re just a simple analyst.” He taunted at me, this was subtle confirmation that the pilot I came with was dead, at least it wasn’t Poe I thought selfishly.

Through the threshold of my cell a probe droid came through, I started to unconsciously squirm, I knew what was coming next. The black floating sphere droid hovered over to me and shot out a syringe which was surely filled with something they were sure would make me talk.

“We can do this the easy way or the hard way” Hux sneered out- Kriff I wish he’d just shut his mouth. “What where you doing orbiting Kashyyyk?”

I shook my head in defiance, I didn’t care about pain, I just cared about the survival of the resistance.

“Very well” he grumbled before waving the torture droid towards me. The needle pricked my right forearm giving me a slice of the pain that was to come. It didn’t creep up on me, but hit me with full force, making me feel as if fire was running through my veins. Hux started screaming at me again to try and pry out the information, even though whatever they injected into me didn’t let me form a single thought. My eyes started to give way- I didn’t know if I was going to pass out or die- just that I needed to do something to escape the burning pain. Relief flooded through my veins as the galaxy around me faded to black.

———————

When I came to again my head was pulsing harder then before, plus there was a sharp ringing in my ears. Pushing my pain aside I promptly started to look for an escape route. Then I remembered how Poe and I had gotten out of being captured by Weequans on Felucia. I prepared myself to scream out to the troopers, I’ll fake being sick and hopefully they’ll let their guard down.

“Help please!” I shouted in the most convincing scream I could managet. “I’m going to throw up! You’ll have to clean it up if you don’t give me a bucket or something!!!”

The two stormtroopers stationed outside finally relented and opened the door with another whoosh. They clambered in obviously miffed that they would have to deal with me. One unlocked the binders and forcefully pulled them off me, giving some relief to my already bruised wrists. They shoved me out of the cell out towards the refresher that was reserved for prisoners.

“Hurry up.” The second one snapped at me in a brusque tone while they shoved me through the door.

I assessed my surroundings trying to find anything to gain the upper hand, sadly it seemed as if I would have to use brute force to escape. I hunched over the toilet pretending to make a gagged sound and called for one of them to help me again. Swiftly I kicked the trooper’s legs out from under them and grabbed his blaster, the second immediately put his hands up knowing that I had the upper hand. I decided to spare the two, by knocking them out with the butt of the blaster.

My legs were burning as I ran out of the detention block with black spots dancing around my vision but, I wouldn’t let myself stop for anything, I needed to get home. The Star destroyer I had gotten myself stranded on had an unnecessary amount of seemingly useless hallways. I was certain I had gotten lost in the deep dispensable cesspool, I had barely even run into any troopers, seemingly signaling that I was off course. Finally I saw the light of a hangar bag coming into view, then of course the alarm went off painting the col clinical hallways a deep red. They must’ve realized that I had escaped, my poor legs were close to giving up, the stress of being tortured had nearly beaten me into submission. Yet I willed myself further as I came in through the hangar doors, troopers were running around looking in every nook and cranny trying to find their lost prisoner. I hid my frame behind a stack of crates and peeled my eyes for a ship to pilot.

My pupils fixated on a tie fighter around the bend that luckily had no troopers snooping about. I made a mad dash towards the open hatch of the ship and hopped inside. Buttons and switches adorned the small ship looking slightly foreign to me. Instead of worrying about taking off I tried to apply basic flight knowledge that Poe taught to me and I got the ship hovering off the ground.

The troopers finally realized what was happening and started to fire at the ship, even though the tethering cable was still attached I grabbed the controls to swerve around incoming fire. I swung around until the end of the tethering cable came into my sights, I quickly swiveled over to the blaster controls. Aiming expertly I shot down the only thing holding me back from leaving this Sarlacc pit. I made my way back to the piloting controls and quickly passed through the exit out into deep space. Several tie fighters followed me trying to shoot me down as a crackling came through the comms.

“You’ll never outrun us!” Hux shouted through the comms, they must’ve still been connected through the enemy ships.

“Are you so sure about that Hux?!” My shaky hands were attempting to program the coordinates of the D’Qar base into the navicomputer which was harder without an astromech to aide me.

“Even if you did escape the star destroyer Y/L/N you wouldn’t get very far- you’re no pilot” his voice like steel scraping through the comms.

“ Did you know my name isn’t Y/L/N anymore Hux?” I mocked as I prepared to jump into hyperspace, I had him right where I wanted him.

“The name’s Dameron, Hugs” I slammed down the hyperspace lever and blasted off ready to go back to my husband who taught me how to fly.

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron #poe #Oscar Isaac #hux x reader #fanfiction #star wars imagine #star wars #imagine #y/n #clone wars #finn #rey skywalker #kylo x reader #kylo ren #poe dameron imagine

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thinkingheron · 7 years ago

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SW Fic - Observe, Analyze, Adapt

Six snapshots from Artoo Detoo's memory files tagged Skywalker.

[AN] For @strrne (I know this is your art blog but tumblr won’t let me tag your main) from this post. I dug this up from one of the abandoned concepts which started from @celebrate-the-clone-wars prompt Evolve and Adapt. It's too late to submit but I thought I'd credit the prompt anyway.

Read it on AO3 or FFNET.

*****

Artoo Deetoo was a proud astromech droid, manufactured by the best to serve the Royal House of Naboo. He might be relatively fresh out of the factory, but he had more experience than most droids with similar activation time. He had fixed the Naboo Royal Starship mid-flight several times now, once even in the middle of a firefight. And this was not the first time aiding star pilots either, though actual battles had been rare, and an over-enthusiastic nine-year-old pilot was rarer.

He had not worried at the beginning. Partly this was because astromech droids were not programmed to worry and partly because at the beginning it was well within his function to help Naboo army in destroying those battle droids. It was also within his function to help a pilot—a small one, but still a pilot—in the battle for Naboo. And when the ship's programmed autopilot became too cumbersome, it was protocol to turn it off and give the pilot full control.

That was when Artoo learned that some pilots were... more different than others.

This little human flew the fighter like a pod. It was erratic enough to introduce multiple glitches in Artoo's clean system. They resulted in a series of queries that Artoo had never needed to ask before, such as whether this experience could be classified as 'flying', or since when 'babysitting' had become part of his programmed functions, or if there would be anything left of him to salvage after this.

The tiny pilot was just ecstatic, blithely unaware of how many common rules of space combat and laws of physics they were breaking.

"I'll try spinning, that's a good trick!"

It was all Artoo could do to keep the star fighter stabilized and cling on with dear life—metaphorically speaking.

By the end of the day, Artoo had a new entry for the word 'spin' in his database with a footnote, discovered the emotion 'panic', and an appropriate sound file to express it.

*****

"Alright, Artoo, we can do this. Just stay with me."

This was not a Nubian Fighter, and that little human had somehow become a Jedi, and his flight pattern had not changed at all in ten years.

Of course, this time Artoo also had ten years worth of experience serving Padme Amidala right next to her. Padme Amidala did not believe in memory wiping droids, so Artoo had been able to retain nearly everything he had learned, one of which was something that could be described as a certain appreciation for excitement. He had gotten through that battle that started this war, weaving through the chaos to keep two humans and one golden protocol droid in one piece without ever needing to use his 'scream' file.

"Redirect all power for shields to the engines," Anakin said, canting a look behind them where two vulture droids were trailing. The sight seemed to cheer him up. "Let's see what they've got."

Artoo had predicted that order. Only the most reckless of pilots sacrificed shields for other functions, and Anakin Skywalker was certainly one of those.

And for good reason. Within the next ten seconds, both droids were little more than smoking scrap metal.

"Anakin, will you stop showing off and help me out here!"

Obi-Wan Kenobi's voice crackled through the comms.

Anakin rolled his eyes, steadying the ship from its 1980-degree spinning. Everything was upside down. "Alright, old man, where are you?"

"I'm near the—"

The comm cut off from interference and Anakin's expression turned serious at once. Artoo performed a quick scan and marked Obi-Wan's direction on the screen.

"I see you." Anakin muttered in a voice that promised pain and suffering as he pulled the fighter around.

Obi-Wan's ship, which could now easily be identified by the vulture droids swarming around it, took a dive and vanished from their view behind one of the Separatist dreadnoughts. As they flew towards it however, another one of Separatist ships loomed overhead, having taken heavy damage from the Resolute and now careening down.

Artoo calculated, and presented an alternative course that would take 1.27 seconds longer but did not involve going between two heavy metal bulks that were about to collide.

Unsurprisingly, Anakin ignored it and fired the engines to max instead.

Artoo did not scream when they zipped through the narrow gap and Anakin started to defy physics again.

Artoo did not scream when the two dreadnoughts crashed and one exploded just behind them.

Artoo did not scream when they shot out the other side and flew straight into the swarm of vulture droids, sending them all scattering to different directions like bowling pins.

Then a debris from the explosion slammed into their left wing and they spun out of control.

And Artoo screamed.

*****

Organic living beings all had to meet certain requirements to function, and Artoo had been active long enough to learn that their needs varied. Padme Amidala, for example, often needed to be watched over in case of intruders or alerted to some important appointment.

Anakin Skywalker, as Artoo found out quickly, required a slightly different type of care, and the trickiest part was he never asked for it.

"Bearings. Magnetic ones."

Artoo dropped the component into Anakin's outstretched hand, and followed it with a query, this time waving a ration bar. The bar was, in his opinion, a much more efficient form of food and made it easier to convince humans who were not hardcoded to eat when they needed.

Anakin glanced at the bar and shook his head, returning to his work. "Not now, I'm good."

Anakin's stomach however, chose that exact moment to disagree loudly. He scowled down, as if ready to have an argument with his own body parts.

Artoo bumped against him, waving the bar again and adding an appropriately sad bleep that had proven effective in manipulating human emotions.

It worked. Anakin sighed and tore off his dirty gloves. "Fine."

As Anakin wolfed down the ration, Artoo made adjustments to his algorithm for predicting Anakin Skywalker's biological clock.

And added 'babysitting' into his list of official duties.

*****

The last thing Artoo learned from Anakin Skywalker was that humans, apparently, were susceptible to reprogramming as well.

As a droid, Artoo did not understand plenty of organic concepts, but he could damn well analyze patterns. And the human who returned after leaving with the command, 'stay with the ship', did not match the behavioral patterns of Anakin Skywalker.

Anakin Skywalker would never hurt Padme Amidala.

Anakin Skywalker would never fight Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Anakin Skywalker would never leave Artoo behind.

Artoo analyzed, and filed the results. They were later archived into the deepest part of his database along with all the flight and mission data from the Clone Wars.

*****

Artoo did not access that data for a long time after. He was usually stationed on Tantive IV or Alderaan Royal Palace, which required different skills. Occasionally he would be ordered to assist a star pilot on a fighter, but working with people who acted more like droids to him was not quite the same.

Until...

"This R2 unit of yours seems a little beat up. You want a new one?"

Luke Skywalker laughed and shook his head. "Not on your life! That little droid and I have been through a lot together. You okay, Artoo?"

Artoo confirmed. The old memory files returned easily.

It was their first time flying a star fighter together, and this was a different era, a different type of fighter. Still, as soon as he was plugged into the X-Wing, Artoo dug back up the flight pattern analysis from the oldest, most secured part of his database.

Because when it came to living beings, some things just did not change.

#R2-D2 #Anakin Skywalker #Luke Skywalker #sw prequels #The Clone Wars #sw fanfic #droids matter #I swear to force i intended this to be pure fluff and no sadness attached #why yes i deliberately held off posting #to post around christmas and not procrastinate for a week #heron writes

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freshbakeddisney · 6 years ago

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Assemble a Custom Astromech Droid Unit

Visit a workshop stocked with parts, chips, manuals and other tech items useful for constructing your very own droid, one of the galaxy’s most indispensable sidekicks.

First, register your choice of the BB-series unit or R-series unit with the clerk, who’ll provide a basket and blueprint for parts. Next, proceed to the following stations and begin your droid-building experience.

#gallery-0-5 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-5 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 33%; } #gallery-0-5 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-5 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

Droid Depot Assemble a Custom Astromech Droid Unit Visit a workshop stocked with parts, chips, manuals and other tech items useful for constructing your very own droid, one of the galaxy’s most indispensable sidekicks.

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luminoustico · 8 years ago

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Warriors

For @politicalmamaduck

A/N: This following AU has its premise shamelessly stolen from Disney’s Mulan, and much of the dialogue for the porgs is stolen from Mushu tbh, but I have no intention of whitewashing the movie itself. This canonverse story is primarily about Rey, punk ass daughter of a Jedi, wanting so much to punch a First Order officer in the face, she’ll disguise herself as a man to do it.

Synopsis: The First Order has risen from the ashes of the Empire. The Resistance has been formed by General Organa, with her son, Ben Organa-Solo as Commander and her right-hand man while her husband Han Solo fights on the frontline. To avoid the mistakes of the Galactic Civil War, Leia Organa has called for troops to only be admitted over the age of 20. Having been turned away from a pilot position for being only 19, Rey, the daughter of a Jedi and eager to carry on her mother’s legacy and bring down evil in the galaxy, disguises herself as a male and lies about her age in order to gain a position in the training ranks of foot soldiers on Crait, the Resistance’s latest base of operations. She doesn’t count on her training commander being Ben Organa-Solo himself.

“Okay.” Feeling the ground underneath her feet, Rey held her mother’s lightsaber in both hands. She thumbed it on. The green blade hummed, the hilt vibrating underneath her touch as if knowing her emotions, her confusion. Rey swallowed it down, drawing the Force inward then exploding it outwards over her skin, a mask of calm. The hilt of the lightsaber vibrated still.

Rey cricked her neck, shifting her weight. “We’ve got this-- I can do this---”

“H-yah! Yah! Yah!” She jabbed left and right, as she’d watched her mother do in the mountain gardens, away from everything but the Force. She twisted on her heels, thrusting her mother’s saber forward, “ahhh!”

She stumbled forward, the blade sinking into the thick tree trunk, splitting it in half. With a gasp, thinking quick, Rey dropped into a roll, hearing the rush of leaves, the cracking of the trunk as it fell, landing with a dull thud. Above, birds fluttered from the branches. In the thick water, creatures growled. Her heart hammering, blinking, Rey sat back on her elbows, watching as splinters drifting towards the swampy underground.

Her mother’s lightsaber hummed in her palm.

Remembering herself, she switched it off, clambering to her feet.

Behind her, she heard the amused beep of her mother’s astromech droid, KE-88.

“I’m working on it,” Rey snapped, heading towards the speeder bike, throwing open one of the saddlebags and sliding the lightsaber inside. She retrieved a muja fruit, biting roughly at the skin, not caring about the juice dribbling down her chin. “I’m not asking for a miracle, to be suddenly able to wield a lightsaber.”

“Did I hear someone ask for a miracle?”

An explosion of fire appeared at her left, and Rey stumbled back, swearing in Huttese at the apparition before her. A long, thin shadow tangled within the hot orange flames of a campfire, part way up the hill before her. The shadow’s arms, vine-like in their length, weaved upwards and out in an arc.

“Let me hear you!” called the apparition, its voice high and eager.

Rey blinked, once, twice.

“What the kriff?” she whispered, stepping closer to the apparition.

“It’s okay, we’ll skip that. Rey, get ready, for your salvation is at hand! For your ancestors, all as strong in the Force as you, have sent me to help you through your masquerade!”

Rey glanced to Kayee, who, staring at the flames turned their head towards her and beeped.

“Exactly,” Rey murmured, raising her voice and her eyebrows when she looked back at the dying campfire. “Um, who are you?”

“Me? I am a guardian of lost souls, Rey-- I’m the powerful-- the pleasurable, the indestructible---” A part of Rey’s heart lifted as the long shadow moved, the flames dying, waiting to see what lay beyond it, and sank when from behind the rock, a strange little bird waddled out. Its wings were flat and narrow, flapping against a rounded body, grey with a burst of orange at its chest. Rising up, it flew over her head, round and round in three little circles, before settling on Kayee’s head. “Jado.”

Affronted, Kayee rolled over the swampy ground towards the water, lurching their body forward. The creature, thrown forwards, squawked its squawk, more of a squeak, and landed in the water with a splash.

Rey hurried towards the lake’s edge, peering, but the creature resurfaced, lake water running in drips down its feathers. It shook itself free of the water and landed once again on top of Kayee. Kayee beeped indignantly, threatening the creature with another dip, but the creature merely ruffled its feathers, staring up at Rey.

Rey dropped to a crouch before the creature. It reminded her somehow of a purra-bird, preening and waiting for praise with its wide, wide black-brown eyes.

“My ancestors sent a little purra-bird to help me?”

“Porg, not purra,” the creature spat, ruffling feathers, offended at such a suggestion. “I don’t do that squawk thing.”

“Uh… right.” Rey stood, which only made the height difference worse. “You’re--- you’re really not what I would expect. You’re tiny, for one thing.”

“Oh sure, but if I were my real size, your droid would short-circuit out of sheer fear, that’s for sure. A porg’s powers,” the porg continued, “are beyond any human’s imagination. We do more than fly, you know. If I wanted to, I could shrink down to an atom and hide right inside your tunic.”

She couldn’t exactly say why, but at such a comment, she instantly smacked the porg, which sent it flying back right into a puddle of mud. The porg in response, flipped up onto its feet, waddling quickly towards her, roaring in a tiny squawk.

“Dishonour!” it screamed, slapping her shins with its wings, “Dishonour on you, dishonour on your bucket---”

Rey scooped up with the porg with both hands, her voice tumbling over her tongue to deliver an apology.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it---” Kayee beeped, annoyed still, and Rey frowned down at them. “Ssh! He’s adorable.”

“Don’t call me adorable!”

Rey cringed. “Sorry.”

“Just about the worst thing you could call a porg. Anyway, you’re young, I’ll forgive you. C’mon, hop on your speeder,” urged the porg, gesturing towards the bike.

Rey frowned. “What?”

“Didn’t you listen to what I said up there?” asked the porg, impatient. He gestured back to the boulder and the wisps of smoke. “I am a guardian. I’m here to help you with your masquerade. For a start, you’re gonna wanna clean up.”

“Clean up?” Rey wrinkled her nose, staring down at her tunic, marked with mud and earth, her boots caked in leaves.

“You look like you slept in Bantha fodder then were dragged backwards through an entire jungle, trust me. Now c’mon.” The porg jumped out of her palms, clambering with feet and wings up her arm, frowning at Rey’s giggles as he set himself on her shoulder. He reached out, flicking a smear of grease from her chin. “There’s a clean water lake just up that hill, a few klicks from base camp.”

---

“The latest strike by The First Order has severely depleted our numbers,” Leia explained, as foot soldiers, admirals and pilots alike gathered around the holo-table for the latest briefing. Her eyes slid towards Ben, who stood beside her. She smiled proudly, but still carried the air of a general, whatever she did. Leia Organa never allowed anything to undermine her authority, and it made the Resistance look to her like a homing beacon. “Intel has led us to understand that a strike on our eastern trenches on Crait will take place. We cannot afford to lose this holding. General Solo is already leading a platoon to defend, while Commander Organa-Solo will train the new onset of troops. Admiral Ackbar, you will lead the air support for General Solo. Understood?”

Every member of the Resistance nodded, murmurs of conversation springing up as they fanned outwards. Ben stayed by his mother’s side, a glower etched into his face, even as she turned away from the holo-table and glanced through a datapad.

Her eyes did not look up from the data pad when she spoke.

“My father commands a platoon, while I, a commander, stay behind to train soldiers and--- what, shuffle papers?”

“And in time, when support is needed, you shall be summoned. I’ve made that clear enough, Ben. Until then, you do your part for the Resistance and the war.” Leia pressed the datapad into his hands, leaving no room for an answer from her son, firmly pressing a door closed on any potential argument. As the years went on, he looked like his father, so his uncle said, and behaved like her. “These will be your soldiers.”

“They hardly look promising,” Ben grumbled, his thumb flicking through file after file, drawing up blue-tinged images of eager faces, sons of pilots and foot soldiers who had all fought before.

“All of them are the descendants of the Jedi.”

Ben went still. His grip tightened on the datapad.

“Wouldn’t Uncle Luke be more suited to training them?”

“They don’t wish to be Jedi, they want to fight. But they still need to be taught how to use a lightsaber,” Leia added, turning to face her son, her eyes falling on her father’s lightsaber, strapped to her son’s hip.

“I’m not surprised. Their ancestors weren’t very good at keeping their vows, were they?” Ben muttered. His mother chuckled.

“Biology is biology, Ben. You’ll meet your recruits after lunch, which is now.”

On cue, a distant crash sounded from the canteen, located to the left, down a wide corridor. Ben hurried down the corridor, pressing his palm against the entrance panel, his mother just behind. His mouth went dry from fury as the doors slid open. Pashi noodles and fists were slung from man to man, Huttese curses yelled and insults were thrown. His mother ducked, avoiding an approaching missile of noodle.

“Day one,” she said. She patted Ben on the high of his back, turning away. “I’ll leave you to it.”

Ben clenched his datapad as he stormed forward.

“Soldiers!”

His commanding yell echoed around the high ceiling of the canteen.

Each fight paused. Black eyes already formed stared back at him. Some sons, aware of where exactly they were, and who exactly was before them, nervously adjusted their ripped sleeves and tried to wipe away noodle stains from their uniforms with their fingertips.

In the centre of the crowd, a soldier, with a lightsaber strapped to their hip, their skin and uniform scrubbed clean, lay on the ground, curled in upon himself.

Ben stopped before the soldier, glaring, with his hands on his hips.

“Get up.”

The soldier slowly lifted his head, peering through the gaps of his fingers at his commander.

His uniform, now Ben could take a closer look at it, was odd. It was not the official uniform of the Resistance, that the other soldiers had failed to look after in their various fights, all started over Pashi it seemed, but called back to the time of the Empire, and the Alliance that wiped it from history, promising a new start.

The soldier, who looked too young to be over 21-year cycles (as so many did, they seemed younger and younger as he endured another year of the war), rapidly brushed noodle from the leather of his jacket and the cotton of his trousers. He bowed his head. His deep brown hair was pulled back into a bun at the nape of his neck and he stood straight with his shoulders flung back, his feet an equidistance apart.

A smirk twitched at the corner of Ben’s mouth.

“I assume you are the reason for this mess.”

“Uh…”

Ben returned his attention towards the datapad. “What’s your name?”

“Uh… I...”

He quirked his head up, narrowing his eyes. “Answer it, soldier.”

“I don’t---” The soldier cleared his throat, his voice descending two or three registers. He frowned, his eyes flickering towards a dark-skinned soldier standing among the crowd, sporting only a scuff on his cheek from the mass fight. “His name is Finn.”

“His name wasn’t the one I asked for,” Ben snapped, crowding the soldier before him, looming over his short stature. “I want to know your name.”

“Um, -- no, Jado!”

“Jado?”

“No! Pinn!”

For a moment, Ben thought he’d misheard the soldier. He flicked through the blue images, glancing between them and the soldier.

“I can’t find you on the database.”

“I’m a late conscription,” the soldier replied. Ben’s chest tightened, his hackles raised.

“You can confirm that? Pinn?” he asked, into a dangerous silence. He swallowed a smirk as the soldier frowned. Naivety was sketched into the soldier’s face, but The First Order was cunning; naivety could easily mask intelligence, and leaks could spread faster than contained. It was a paranoid way of thinking, but one he’d adopted long ago.

An astromech droid rolled forward from the back of the crowd, bumping through the bodies of other soldiers to approach Ben. He knew basic Droid, and just about followed the droid’s beeps. Apparently, the droid belonged to the Pinn boy. He recognised a name and raised his eyebrows.

“Your mother?” he asked, tilting his head towards Pinn. “Wasn’t aware she had a son.”

“Well, uh, I’m younger than you. Obviously.”

Ben narrowed his eyes. “Obviously.” He tapped out a note onto the datapad. “Your droid will be analysed by our resident protocol droid for identity confirmation. Until your identity can be confirmed, you’ll be confined to quarters. Dismissed.”

The soldier fell in then, drawing his feet together and clasping his hands behind his back, bowing shortly. Ben gazed past him at the rest of the soldiers.

“Clean yourselves up, and get back here. I want every single Phasi noodle picked up before the end of the day. Understood?” Immediate protestations blew up.

“But sir---”

“It was him!”

“He started it!”

“Pinn---”

“My command is final, soldiers,” Ben spat, voice rising above them. “Pinn, you will be among them. Apart from that, confined to quarters. Understood?”

The answer came in unison.

“Yes, sir!”

Ben exited the canteen, ignoring the jibes thrown the way of the young Pinn by the troops. If he were a double agent for The First Order, he would have more than disgruntled soldiers to look out for, that was for sure.

#reylo #kylo x rey #rey x kylo ren #star wars #swedit #eleanorwrites #au #politicalmamaduck

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writebetterstarwars · 7 years ago

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Would it ever be possible to use as a defense the propagation of a virus or reverse hack into an astromech as it links up to a central computer?

I’m no expert on computers, but we have seen this sort of thing before. In one episode of Rebels, the Empire manages to take control of Chopper and use him as a spy after he hooks up to an Imperial data port. From what I know of viruses (in the real world), it could be possible for a droid to get one if it downloaded something containing it. From what I know of them in Star Wars, one could hack into a droid using an artificially intelligent virus, and use that to take over its systems or search through its memory files.

Hope that helps!

~ Jacen

#answered #anonymous #droids #technology #computers

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jedimordsith · 8 years ago

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Dancer (Part XIII)

This is the end of Dancer! Overdramatic and (like the rest) dreadfully unedited. Thanks for indulging me anyway! :)

[After refusing to accompany Luke back to Home One after they reconcile because there’s something she must finish first, Mara appears without warning in a battered shuttle, throwing the Command Ship into high alert, even as Leia gets her permission to land.]

Luke and Han careened around the corner. Leia and Chewie were already there, waiting for the ramp to lower.

“Stay here!” Han ordered as the ramp started to drop. “Keep everyone out.” He and Luke ducked inside as soon as there was enough room, leaving Leia and Chewie to keep everyone else back through authority and brute force, respectively.

Blood. One step inside the shuttle, and it suffused Luke's senses. The walls and decking looked as if they'd been doused with buckets of it in several different shades, and the metal tang coated his tongue and assaulted his nostrils. There were no bodies, but there had unquestionably been a slaughter here.

“Mara!”

“Here!”

Her voice came from down the narrow corridor and to the right – the cargo hold, he remembered, bolting in that direction. Han was tight on his heels as they burst into the hold.

Mara was bent over an ancient stasis pod, disconnecting wires and hoses and rapidly keying codes into the small control box. Rix unplugged himself from a port on the end and whistled urgently.

“Take this,” Mara commanded, stepping back. She held her left arm immobile, tight against her chest, and moved with jerky stiffness at stark odds from her trademark lithe grace. She was filthy, and it was impossible to tell how much of the blood crusted on her was her own.

Reacting to the urgency in her tone, Luke grabbed the handle at the top of the pod. Han darted around and grasped the matching one at the bottom.

“Get her into a med bay, now. Critical condition VIP – the pod is failing, and she can't be allowed to die.”

“Jade -.”

“Go, Farmboy.”

Luke gritted his teeth and started moving as fast as he could, wrestling the unwieldy pod around the shuttle's tight corners. At the edge of his hearing, Rix gave an anxious tootle. Mara's voice, heavy with regret, answered. “I know, I'm sorry.”

Then they plunged back into the chaos of the cargo hold, Leia's eyes going wide at the sight of them.

“Comm the med bay!” Han shouted at her as they rushed past. “Emergency!” He jerked his head toward the ship. “Chewie – help her!”

The wookie harned a response, but they were already out of the bay, shouting for people to clear the way ahead of them as they struggled under the pod's weight. Unlike the modern versions, this one had no repulsars, making it a struggle to carry and maneuver. Halfway to their destination, someone appeared with a repulsar sled and they gratefully man-handled the pod onto it, sighing with sweaty relief and running alongside it as they sped down the last few corridors.

A medic and a med droid were both waiting for them, a small private room cleared for their precious cargo.

“What do we have?” The medic asked, even as both professionals began a rapid, skillful skimming of the pod's indicator panel.

“I don't know,” Luke said, honestly. “A VIP, just arrived in critical condition. The pod is failing.”

“Name? Blood type?” The medic rattled off a few more questions, but Luke shook his head helplessly. “I don't know.”

The med droid hummed urgently and hit a button to swing out a wall panel full of medical supplies. Alarms started going off on the pod.

“Do something!” Han demanded.

“We're trying,” the medic griped. “Without basic information on the patient, we -.”

He was cut off by the urgent, imperious tootling and beeping of an astromech.

“Rix!” Luke's eyes widened at the little droid.

//I have what they need.//

“Show them!”

The droid spat out a data chip, which the medic promptly inserted into a data pad. Both professionals skimmed through it rapidly, shock echoing off the medic in the Force.

“Of kriff!” The man breathed. “All right,” he turned to his companion. “Crack the pod, and grab the fluids. I'll get a bed set up.” Turning to the others, he said in his best, composed voice, “I need you to wait outside please. We'll have this under control shortly.”

Startled, but not knowing what else to do, they complied. Rix refused to leave, and was permitted to stay.

“What do you suppose that's all about?” Han asked, frowning at the now closed door.

“I wish I knew,” Luke said, dragging a hand through his disheveled hair.

“Han!” Leia flew in from the hall. “Where's the pod? Who is it?”

He caught her in a quick hug before she leaned back to search his face. “We don't know yet,” he told her. “The droid had whatever it was they needed, and they're working on it now.”

Luke stared at his sister, and his gut twisted in dread. “Where's Mara? Why isn't she with you?”

Leia turned to him, her face a picture of compassion. “Luke,” she said, too softly. “She's gone. She blasted out as soon as she could get the ramp back up.”

“What?!” He staggered. “But… she was injured! The ship was a war zone. Rix -.” He reached for her in the Force, found only stillness. She was already in hyperspace. “Gods dammit, Jade!” he swore, spinning around and wishing desperately for something to punch.

“Where's the droid?” Leia asked, her heart aching for her brother. “She said he would explain everything.”

“With the patient,” Han told her.

Chewie joined them, and the minutes seemed to crawl by. It wasn't really a long wait, but Luke felt like he was drowning.

After a brief eternity, the door opened and the medic motioned them inside. A curtain hid the repulsar bed from the rest of the room. The med droid was just ejecting a data chip, which he handed off to Rix. The astromech tucked it away inside his dome, and the med droid left.

The medic spoke up. “Commander Skywalker, Princess Organa. Technically, I should only be revealing this information to you, but the droid assigned to oversee the patient's care assures me that General Solo and Chewbacca are authorized to hear it as well.”

“Of course,” Leia said, not even needing to check with Luke for confirmation. “I'll sign off on that as well, if necessary.”

The medic nodded, relieved. “The patient arrived just in time. We were able to stabilize her, and she's going to be fine.”

Luke let out a breath of relief. “Who is she?” he asked.

“That's the crazy part,” the medic said, shaking his had in disbelief. “Her name is Padme Naberrie Amidala. She was a queen and then a senator from the planet of Naboo. According to the records, she died approximately twenty years when her ship was destroyed in a catastrophic crash. Obviously that wasn't the case. She appears to have been in stasis for nearly two decades.”

The friends stared at each other, speechless.

“The droid produced a legal document authorizing the two of you to serve as her proxies until she is able to make decisions for herself,” the medic continued. “Given her prominence and unique circumstances, I've marked her file as strictly confidential and had the med droid wiped. All her files will be handled directly by the astromech until you dictate otherwise.” The man gave a funny little smile. “He insists he has been assigned to her until she is 'fully restored'.”

“I see.” Leia managed an astonishingly calm facade. “When do you expect her to wake?”

“A few hours,” the medic replied. “Give or take.”

“Thank you,” the Princess said.

The medic bobbed his head and left them. When the door shut, they all looked at each other for a moment. Rix broke the silence, rolling over to Luke.

//Mistress left you a message. Play?//

“Yes, please.”

The droid rolled back slightly, and a hologram flickered to life in front of him. Leia stifled a gasp at the sight of the ship's bloodied, carbon-scored interior. Luke sagged against the wall as he took in Mara's battered form.

She was sitting on a crate beside the pod, one of it's bundles of wires caught between her knees while she worked on a frayed end with her right hand. She wore only cargo pants and a thin grey undershirt, and had to be freezing in the depths of space. Beneath the grime-crusted silver filigree cuff, her left arm was wrapped down to the wrist in bandages that she was starting to bleed through. Her face was pale beneath the smudges, but determined.

“If this goes as planned,” she began, “I'm already back in hyperspace, and you have an unconscious but very alive former queen in your med bay. I've assigned Rix to her until she's completely well. I trust you to take care of him the way you do Artoo.”

She paused, swapping the chunk of wire she held for another and attacking it's frayed edging with her tool.

“Skywalker – Padme is the reason I didn't come with you when you asked. I'm sorry I couldn't explain then, but I couldn't leave until I'd gotten her for you. She… she's your mother.”

The floor fell out beneath them, all of them, and for a moment they just stared, blindly. Han realized the message was still rolling.

“Stop,” he ordered. “Back that up.”

Rix complied, rewinding.

“She's your mother. Her full name is Padme Naberrie Amidala Skywalker. I don't have a lot of details, but she was taken by Imperial forces shortly after you were born and put in stasis in one of the Emperor's private facilities. Everyone – including Vader – was told that she died.”

Mara dropped the chunk of wire, and her right hand fell limp in her lap.

“Pause.” Luke's voice shook, and he dragged his eyes from the hologram to the bed. The woman was petite and compact, and he could see Leia in the shape of her face and the richness of the long brown hair braided around her head. He looked nothing like her, a thought that caused a pang of pain, but he pushed it away. Mother.

He'd never known a mother. Had no memory of this lovely, brave woman. Having been in stasis for so many years, she still looked to be nearly the same age that he was. His mind reeled at this new information, refusing to fully process it.

“Luke.” Leia was beside him, then, clutching his hand. “Oh, Luke. Our mother.”

He nodded, dumbly, unable to speak.

“Where did she go?” Han asked Rix. “Why didn't she stay?”

Rix resumed the recording.

“Luke,” Mara said, staring at her hands. “Anakin became Vader to save Padme. He stayed Vader because he couldn't be Anakin without her.” She glanced up. “Now that she's back, so is he.”

Luke was immensely grateful that the wall was already bearing nearly all his weight, or he might have collapsed. She can't be implying…

“He asked me to help him overthrow the Emperor, and I said yes. Compensation for my sins, maybe.”

“Stop!” Luke covered his face with his hands and slid down the wall. “Kreth, Jade!”

Leia was beside him, her arms wrapping around him tightly.

“Why didn't she take me?!” he demanded, hoarsely.

Rix beeped indignantly. //The New Republic will need you.//

“I need her!” Luke shot back, torn between fury and competing urges to laugh and cry at the lunacy of it all.

The droid gave the equivalent of a dismissive sniff and started rolling the holo again.

Holo-Mara gave a small, weary smile. “Looks like I'm going Sith hunting for a few days. Don't be mad at me, Farmboy.”

Something off comm pinged urgently, and she glanced at it. “I have to go.” She looked back at the comm. “Luke… if I don't come back, I meant what I said. On the Lucens. All of it.” A flick of her fingers, and the recording cut off.

Curled over his knees on the floor, Luke buried his face against his forearms and choked down a sob. You don't have to earn forgiveness, Jade. You've never had to buy your way out or do penance. It's never been your fault.

Han shifted uncomfortably in his chair, then leaned forward. “Look, I ain't gonna try to unravel the emotional shipwreck here, but does anybody else think maybe we ought be taking this to fleet?”

Leia looked up quickly, her eyes widening, then narrowing as she thought. “You're right,” she said decisively. “If they're going after the Emperor, the Imperials will be vulnerable. If they succeed, everything will come apart – we'll never have a better shot at breaking them.”

“Yeah,” Han said, his gaze shifting to Luke who was valiantly struggling to pull himself together. “Besides, we promised Jade an evac and I, for one, wouldn't mind going in with a little back up.”

Luke's head had come up, processing Han's words.

“Think the Rogues'll cover us?” Solo asked, his lips twisting into the slightest bit of a grin.

“Hell yes,” Luke said, fresh energy coursing through him. “But I'm riding with you. When I get my hands on that woman, I am never letting her out of my sight again.”

“Smart plan,” Han agreed. “Who's gonna stay with Her Senatorialness?” he jerked a thumb at Padme.

Rix bleated sharply that he was her assigned supervisor, and didn't need any help, thank you. Even Luke had to grin at that.

“All right,” Leia was on her feet. “Let's go. It's time to bring down the Empire.”

[Mara and Anakin/Vader kill the Emperor, leaving the remains of the Empire to be cleaned up by the New Republic. They very quietly use his facilities at Mount Tantiss to clone Anakin a new body, and float the story that he, too, was frozen and recently recovered. Anakin and Padme get a second chance at life/love, becoming vital resources for their children to draw on as they restore the Jedi Order and rebuild the Republic. Mara, to her annoyance, is considered a war hero on equal footing with her husband. True to his word, Luke very rarely lets her out of his sight for a very long time... though to hear her tell it, she’s the one keeping an eye on him, because somebody has to...]

#unfinished fics #luke x mara #happy ending #totally unrealistic but that's why it's unfinished #right?

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t-challala · 8 years ago

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Hold Your Hand

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader

Word Count: 1,535

Warnings: None! All fluff

Prompt: The Beatles song “I Want to Hold Your Hand,” as well as memories of holding someone’s hand for the first time, because I looove that feeling.

Requested by: My writer’s block-stricken brain.

Author’s Note: I didn’t use “Y/N” in this one, so I’m leaving out the code for the name insert. Also, I tried writing first-person POV to see if things flow a little better. :) Let me know if you enjoy reading first or second-person better, please!

AO3 Link - For those of you that might prefer reading fics on there!

“Hey, we’re heading down to the mess hall. Wanna join?” Jess asks me, motioning down the hall that leads to the residential area.

I give her a smile, “Yeah, I’ll meet you there in a few. I’ve got to run this report down to Command.” Jess nods, turning to lead the group of pilots to lunch.

“We’ll see you there!”

I continue on my way to the command center, brushing some dust from my flightsuit along the way. All my grimey gear had been left in the locker room of the squadron bay, but the bright orange of the flightsuit didn’t hide the dust of the landing zone very well.

Upon entering command, I give a few officers polite nods, as I make my way to General Organa. The woman was standing near a large display that showed troop movements among various Resistance outposts. Poe Dameron was by her side, gesturing to a part of the display with a thoughtful look on his face.

The sight of Poe brings a small smile to my face that I quickly try to squander, hoping to maintain an air of professionalism despite my hopeless crush on the man. As I approach, General Organa takes notice of me first, finishing her words to Poe quickly before greeting me.

“Lieutenant, I trust that you have the mission report from this morning.”

I pull two data drives from one of my flight suit’s many pockets and hold them out for her to take.

“Yes, General. The plan went off without a hitch, and we even got the chance to grab some interesting files before we blew the data tower to bits.”

The General smiles at this, graciously accepting the data drives from me. “I’ll have our decryption team get right on this. Good work.” With that she turns, giving Poe a small smile before she makes her way towards the section of command that holds our decryption team.

I finally allow myself to truly look at Poe, not bothering to hide my smile as I see that one that is spread across his own face.

I’m expecting another round of harmless flirting from the pilot, having grown accustomed to his advances in the time I’d known him. I cross my fingers, hoping it just might mean as much to him this time as it always has for me.

“What are you grinning about, Dameron?”

Poe chuckles and shrugs, “I don’t think I’ve ever witnessed you having a serious conversation with anyone.”

I scoff, feigning offense and placing my hands on my hips.

“I’ll have you know that I’m plenty capable of having serious conversations when I put my mind to it. I just choose to be ridiculous most of the time,” I explain to the Commander, whose eyes are lit up with mirth. He takes a step closer, now standing right beside me.

“That’s why I like having you around. Always so cheerful,” Poe says, his lazy smirk making my knees go a little bit weak.

I hardly have the chance to blush, let alone respond, before he’s speaking again.

“You have lunch yet?”

I give a quick shake of my head, as an answer as well as a way to reel my thoughts in.

“I was planning on meeting Jess and the others after giving those drives to the General. Wanna join?”

Poe gives me one of his million credit smiles before he responds, “Of course.”

With that, the two of us make our way out of the command center and head towards the mess hall, making idle chit chat along the way.

About halfway to our destination, an astromech comes whizzing by, forcing Poe to step out of its way or risk having his foot run over. Our hands bump each other, fingers brushing together briefly and causing a small rush of warmth to travel up my arm.

When the droid passes, Poe quickly puts some distance between us, though the gap is noticeably smaller.

“I wonder what had that droid in such a hurry,” he muses, letting out a slightly awkward chuckle.

I shrug, “Must’ve been something important for it to risk decommissioning you with a broken foot,” I tease and we reach the mess hall.

Poe and I go through the food line quickly, not having to wait long because most everyone had already received their food and sat down.

It was easy to find the long table full of pilots, their orange flight suits giving them away. Poe and I greet our friends as we sit down beside one another.

Jess gives me a knowing look from across the table while Poe catches up with Snap. I playfully sneer at her, which causes her to chuckle.

The amount of people seated on the benches of our table causes Poe and I to sit rather close, our thighs mere centimeters from touching.

I’m talking to Jess about our mission earlier in the day when I feel Poe’s knee bump against my own. I glance over at him to see if he was trying to get my attention, but find that he’s busy talking to Kren Bast. He likely didn't even notice the contact.

I try to ignore the feeling of his knee pressed against my own as I continue my conversation with Jess.

After I finish eating, I settle in to focus more on the conversations that were going on, resting my left hand on my thigh and propping my right elbow on the table to get comfortable as I listen to Jess recount a story from her days in training.

I notice movement out of the corner of my eye and glance down to see that Poe has adjusted as well. His right hand has moved to his own thigh, his fingers drumming against the fabric of his flight suit. I focus back on Jess, laughing along as she tells the group about the shenanigans we were involved in back in the day.

Jess is recounting the time we got busted for skipping out on chores to watch flight drills when I feel Poe’s pinky brush the tiniest bit against my own. I keep my eyes on Jess, but my focus is drawn to the miniscule contact.

I slide my hand closer, testing the waters as my pinky and the pad of my ring finger reach towards Poe, now brushing back. The contact is enough to set butterflies loose in my stomach as I wait for Poe’s reaction.

My mind is running wild at the possibility that my affections might just be reciprocated.

But what if the touch had only been an accident?

I can’t help but glance to the left for a moment to reassure myself. The tiny smirk that the pilot is now sporting silents my question, putting my heart at ease for the moment.

I feel my own lips start to tug up at the corners, no matter how hard I try to keep a straight face.

The next move is mutual, our hands sliding across each other’s until the back of Poe’s hand rests on my thigh, cradling my hand as our fingers lace together.

Poe’s thumb rubs back and forth a few times across my own, causing a pleasant warmth to spread across my face and chest, the flutter in my stomach stoked even more.

We sit this way for the remainder of Jess’ story, but my attention is only halfway on her tale. The other half is focused on the way my heart thumps in response to the feeling of Poe’s hand in my own.

His fingers are calloused, the skin just a little tougher than my own. His grip is gentle, and I realize that I like the way our hands fit together. The warmth of his touch makes me feel safe, secure.

As soon as Jess finishes her story, the pilots around the table laugh in appreciation of a punchline that wrapped the narrative up rather nicely. I chuckle as well and roll my eyes at my friend, who was basking in the glory of everyone’s attention.

I look over at Poe and see that he’s smiling at me, his eyes alight. I give his hand a tiny squeeze before I release it in order to gather my tray and get ready to leave the mess hall.

Poe walks alongside me to the tray deposit area, quickly setting his tray on the conveyor belt after I set down my own. He reaches his hand out towards mine and I give him a questioning look, eyebrows raised.

“I think I’m going through withdrawals already,” he jokes with a smile.

I bring my lower lip between my teeth to hold back a chuckle, reaching out to lace my fingers between his once again.

“I’m gonna have a hard time letting go if we keep this up,” I warn, my tone teasing.

Poe turns to face me, a smirk on his lips, before leaning his head down so that he can whisper in my ear.

“Then don’t let go,” he suggests, pulling back and pressing a quick kiss to my cheek.

We walk out of the mess hall hand in hand, a new reason for winning this war at our fingertips.

#anna writes #fanfiction #poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron/reader #poe dameron & reader #star wars x reader #star wars reader insert #reader insert fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #fanfic #fluff #cute #fluffy fanfiction #fluffy fic

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greyias · 5 years ago

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FIC: Smoke and Mirrors - Chapter 6

Title: Smoke and Mirrors Fandom: SWTOR Pairing: Theron Shan/f!Jedi Knight Rating: T Genre: Pre-Relationship, Slow Burn Synopsis: Something’s rotten on Carrick Station, and Theron won’t rest until he finds out what. But picking at the frayed threads of suspicion quickly unravels a conspiracy much larger than even the Republic’s top spy can handle on his own. (A mostly canon-compliant retelling of the Forged Alliances storyline, as seen through the eyes of Theron Shan.) Author’s Notes and Spoilers: See Chapter 1.

“You zigged when you should have zagged.”

“Excuse me?”

“Unless you’re wanting to take a stroll through the Tomb of Naga Sadow, you may want to backtrack a little.”

There was a snort of frustration picked up over the mic, but the dot on the fuzzy projection of Korriban halted its progress, and after a few moments, started to retrace its steps.

“I’m glad you have a map,” Highwind said, but he couldn’t tell if the slight trace of irritation in her tone was directed at him or herself. It didn’t really matter in the long run, just as long as she stayed on track.

“At least someone does.” Kira’s dark mutterings were probably meant to be under her breath, but the overtuned mic still picked them up. “With all the rubble it’s easy to get turned around here.”

“The first wave may have been a bit… overzealous,” her partner agreed.

Theron thought about pointing out that the first wave of the operation had been completely for her benefit, but bit down on his tongue before the comment formed completely. He needed to keep her focused on the task at hand, and that was easier if she didn’t get irritated with him chiding her over the comm. Half a galaxy away, it wasn’t as if he could march up to her and physically set her back in the right direction, and the incident with the slave pens had already strained Darok’s patience dangerously thin. The taller man was still stalking back and forth, and in between coordinating the rest of the teams on the ground and in the air, was flashing both Theron and his holographic map a thoroughly displeased glare.

“So, does Mapboy have any other helpful tips? Maybe a nice food stall to pick up a quick bite before we go face down the most dangerous Sith in the Galaxy?”

“Kira.” Highwind’s recrimination sounded almost like an exasperated older sibling who was tired of lecturing her younger sister, but still did it anyway out of habit.

“Mapboy?” Theron echoed. “Is that all I am?”

“You are more than a map, Theron,” Highland was quick to reassure him, almost as if she didn’t pick up his undercurrent of sarcasm.

“Yeah, you’re a voice in her ear too.”

“Kira.”

“What? I’m only getting half of this conversation, I have to amuse myself somehow.”

“Perhaps you should remain focused on the mission.”

There was a quiet series of beeps and trills barely picked up by the microphone.

“See. Teeseven agrees with me.”

“I am fairly certain he was confirming we were heading in the right direction.”

“You are,” Theron piped in, “just take a right and it should be straight ahead.”

“A… right? Are you certain?”

“Yes. Why?”

The hum of a lightsaber being activated nearly drowned out Kira’s exclamation of: “Exactly when did the K’lor’slug population explode into an infestation?”

“Thank you for the directions, Theron.” Another hiss of lightsabers sizzled over the comm. “But I’m afraid I need to cut our conversation short.”

“You’re so polite. Go take care of your bug problem.”

“There’s always time for diplomacy. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

His eyebrow arched of its own accord, and he couldn’t help but wonder if he had just been on the receiving end of a very, very subtle dig. He shook his head, trying to ignore his rising curiosity about his asset and focus back on the job at hand. Once the package was secured and safely in SIS’s hands and the mission complete, his role as her handler would be done. Unless Jace decided to inelegantly smash through Dromund Kass (and Theron wasn’t sure he could put it past the Supreme Commander completely), there wasn’t going to be much need for him to make smalltalk with the heaviest hitter in the galaxy for the foreseeable future. She was a bit too… flashy for the shadows that Theron preferred to lurk in.

The apparent “horde” of K’lor’slugs seemed to not be that much of a match for the two Jedi and their little astromech, but the sounds of lightsabers crashing and blaster fire continued over his audio feed. The closer they got to the Academy, the heavier the opposition it seemed. The deep furrow in Darok’s brow seemed to ease the closer Theron’s team got to their objective, but there was a larger issue at hand. His map got even sketchier once they reached the interior of the Academy, and unless he was able to get eyes in there, the strike team would be wandering around blind.

His fingers flew across the keys, mind already processing a workaround. If that little T7 unit was as good at slicing as his file seemed to indicate, there might be an opportunity for Theron to get some eyes inside — as well as extract a little something extra for his old pals in the Analytics division to sink their teeth into. Those data nerds would just love the chance to pick apart every piece of the Academy that they could. He just needed to make a few programming adjustments to prep the communication relays for the data stream. He listened with half an ear, keeping one eye on his programming and the other on the dot representing the strike team’s progress towards the Academy.

The cacophony of the seemingly endless series of encounters faded, and the sudden silence was a bit eerie. The mic picked up the sound of footfalls echoing through what was a large cavernous room. From the position of the dot on his holomap, apparently they had finally arrived at the entrance to the Academy. Jace and the Highwind Fanclub Division of the SIS had been right about one thing — this woman seemed to be able to fight as if she was an entire army.

“Going to be a lot more close quarters combat in here.” The mic picked up Kira’s soft mutterings. “Even before those bombings this place was always a death trap.”

“It will be okay, we just have to stick together,” the older Jedi assured her. “Do you know which way we should head?”

Theron was about to pipe in about his need for an access point, when the voice on the other end of the line cut him off. “Not really. Things look different at this height.”

Theron frowned, wondering what the hell that meant, but the conversation on the other end continued, oblivious to the third party listening in.

“I’m going to guess we follow the highest concentration of Sith standing between us and something else, and just go that way.”

“Do you think they were able to evacuate the students when the bombings began?”

“I don’t know,” there was some reluctance coloring the younger Jedi’s tone, “do you really think that’s a priority?”

“If this were Tython being attacked, the Masters’ first instinct would be to try and protect the initiates and padawans. The highest concentration of Jedi would be defending the students.”

“The Sith aren’t Jedi, and Korriban isn’t Tython.” There was an undercurrent of steely fury to Kira’s tone that was a bit of a surprise to hear her taking with her partner. “It has a way of corrupting people. Nothing good ever came from this place.”

“That’s not true.” Highwind’s reply was just as firm, but instead of fury it was laced with affection.

“Name one thing.”

“You.”

“I… Master…”

The rest of their conversation was drowned out by the sudden rushing in Theron’s ears, as he suddenly put the pieces of the conversation together, and had to physically bite down on his tongue to keep from cursing aloud. Of course the Jedi Order had recruited from within Korriban’s walls, they preached about forgiveness and redemption all the damn time. If they had been a bit more open about their personnel records, perhaps the SIS could have gleaned valuable intel from the converts, instead of having to scrap pieces together from everything else.

Had Theron known that a member of the strike team had first-hand knowledge, even outdated knowledge, it would have been something he could have leveraged. He snorted an angry breath, wondering what other key pieces of intel the close mouthed Jedi were keeping under wraps.

He keyed his mic, probably a little more forcefully than necessary, and let out a long breath before speaking in the most even voice possible. “Looks like you’ve made it to the Academy.”

“We have.” There was a brief hesitation. “Is there a problem?”

“Yes,” he said, a little more terse than he cared for, “I don’t have eyes in there. You’ll be walking around blind.”

“That might be a problem. It’s rather large in here, how are we looking on time?”

Theron glanced at the chronometer and grimaced. “We’ll be cutting it close. Do you see anything that looks like a data or security terminal?”

There was the sound of shuffling, before her voice filled the line again. “Yes, I think we can make something work. Why?”

“If you lend me your astromech’s slicing skills for a few minutes, between the two of us we can probably slice into the mainframe. Piggyback the data off your comm signal and I should be able to get a layout of the whole place. Maybe a little more, depending.”

“You can do that?” She actually sounded impressed.

“You’d be be surprised what I can do with a few loose security protocols and enough free time.”

“See, I knew you were more than just a man with a map.”

He didn’t know what to make of the light teasing tone, and instead focused on his fingers flying across the keyboard, finishing the final line of programming. “To be fair, I’m just getting a new map.”

“Is that all you’ll be doing with this uplink?”

Sharp one, that Jedi. “My primary concern is getting you to the Dark Council chambers. Any extra data I find on my way there, well, that’s just a side benefit.”

“I admire your dedication to your profession.”

Now that he couldn’t tell if it was meant as a jest or not. There was only so much subtext one could determine without facial cues, especially if the other party tended to be a little deadpan in their responses.

He was making some final adjustments to the relay when a message pinged from the far end. The HUD in his left eye implant superimposed a text read out of the message, and his lip curled ever so slightly into a smirk.

Modifications to Jedi comm unit = unauthorized use of Republic equipment // Violation of Regulation C1726 + Galactic Communication Act SR.7628

Theron’s fingers flew across the board as the tapped out a quick response. T7-01 I presume. You going to tattle on me?

The response was immediate and succinct. T7 = here to help // You = help?

That’s the plan. I’ve got a fun little surprise for the Academy’s security system if you can get me a connection.

T7 = slicing access point now // Imperial security algorithm = predictable; layers deep // Sith Academy = closed network

Theron nodded absently, even though the little astromech couldn’t see. He’d expected that, but luckily his unauthorized modifications would be a temporary patch for that. With a few more keystrokes, his last minute programming was being sent half a galaxy away.

Got a code packet incoming, might make that whole place a little more accommodating for digital visitors.

Code packet = virus // T7 = unfamiliar with program // Safe for Republic network?

Code is brand new — but targets the closed system, two-way data transfer will be safe. Don’t worry, I’m not going to scramble the comm systems and leave you guys running around there blind.

Theron waited, but he didn’t see an affirmation via text whether the astromech had uploaded the spike into the access point. Not for the first time that day he wished that he was physically there. It was easier to just do things himself rather than trying to convince various personalities to follow his lead. Asking for forgiveness was generally easier than asking for permission — although he probably needed work on that whole apologizing part of that tactic. But usually his results negated much of the need for an apology.

His fingers remained poised over the keyboard, ready to send a ping on the status when a rush of data started flowing across every available port. A smirk threatened to form as the entire Sith Academy’s network was laid out before him. It was possible he was one of the first Republic agents to actually see all of this (and live long enough to tell the tale).

Good job. Thanks, T7.

Theron = talented slicer // unorthodox; talented

Thanks. I think. I should have what I need now to get you guys the rest of the way. Just need to sort through it.

Theron = need T7 here?

No, you guys should stay together. As long as I’ve got a connection to the comm we should be good.

It was easy to see why Highwind was so fond of the little astromech, willing to stay behind even in a place crawling with Sith that wouldn’t hesitate to hack him in two. Then again, this was the same droid that supposedly had helped take out the Sith Emperor with the Jedi in question. Teeseven might very well have been capable of taking them on.

Theron focused back on the task at hand. There was too much intel to completely sort through at the moment so he diverted the majority of it to a data silo that could be safely mined once completely disconnected from the Republic grid. For now he only needed the facility’s blueprints and way to access the security feeds, even if there was a part of him wanting to rub his hands together greedily at the possibilities of what he now had in hand. Whatever was locked behind the Dark Council’s doors was a far more valuable prize — but just because it wasn’t the motherlode didn’t mean valuable intel still couldn’t be gleaned from what he had just acquired.

There was only so much that the hijacked comm channel could handle though, so once he found what he was looking for, he stopped the upload so he didn’t overload his connection. No need to be greedy, they were already lightyears ahead of where they had been in terms of intel now as opposed to when the day started.

He flung the wireframe projection of the Academy’s layout on the holotable on top of the little dot representing Highwind’s strike team. It filled him with no small amount of glee as Darok’s eyes nearly doubled in size as he got his first look at the layout of the Sith stronghold. It was an unseen deviation in his plan, but as his initial shock faded to grim satisfaction it was apparent that it wasn’t an unwelcome one.

The glitchy visual feed from some of the still functioning security cameras Theron kept limited to the HUD for now. The last thing he needed was Darok breathing down his neck as the strike team tried to navigate what was clearly a crumbled mess. The state of destruction inside of the Academy was quite extensive, as bombings and their aftershocks had done a number on the place. He pivoted around the camera he had hijacked in the foyer, ignoring the way the twisted faces carved into the giant obelisk taking up the center of the room sent a shiver down his spine. Perhaps it wasn’t all bad being stuck on Carrick Station.

Deciding to cut out eavesdroppers, he activated the subvocal portion of his comlink implant. “So, is the Sith’s new decorating scheme courtesy of Darok’s overzealous bombings, or did you get in on the renovations as well?”

On his HUD he saw Highwind’s head head swivel around, taking in the room. Even with the distance of the camera he could see her frown. “You can see us?”

“Part of that ‘little more’ I mentioned earlier.”

“The voice in your ear is being creepy, Boss.”

He saw Highwind shoot the younger knight a look, but didn’t respond to Kira verbally. “I hope this means you have a map.”

“Of sorts. From what I can see here, the Dark Council chambers are on the upper levels. There’s an elevator on the second floor that you’ll have to take to get there.”

“I am hearing some hesitation in that statement.”

Theron let out a sigh, minding to keep it quieter than he truly felt. Mostly so he didn’t have to involve Darok in this conversation.

“Apparently the access codes for the elevator aren’t stored on the Academy’s main network.”

“Main network?”

“Paranoid Sith. Apparently they’d rather have several closed networks rather than have everything all together. It’s almost like they expected to be invaded.”

“Fancy that,” Highwind remarked dryly.

“Teeseven and I might be able to slice the elevator manually if we work together, but that’s going to take a while.”

“That sounds like a big ‘might’,” she returned. “Is there time for you two to try that?”

Theron glanced at the countdown, pressing his lips together. “We can try, but there’s no guarantee we’ll crack it before your return window closes. Pretty sure that encryption is going to be pretty complicated. Have I mentioned the Sith are paranoid?”

“Is there any other way to get access to that elevator?”

“Are you talking about the elevator to the Dark Council chambers?” Kira piped in. “If it’s anything like it used to be, the high level instructors always had access codes. The Sith don’t change their game plan much if everything is working.”

“It’s worth a try. Theron, can you find them?”

“Hold on,” he muttered, cycling through the various security feeds of the destroyed rooms.

Almost all of them were empty. Having never stepped foot in the building before, it was hard to say how occupied everything usually was, but it appeared that the younger students and acolytes might have been evacuated. That would probably make his very perplexing knight on the other end of the line somewhat happier. There were still Sith crawling through the hallways, clearly defending something at the far end. That something turned out to be another Sith, whose importance was marked by the fine robes and markings indicating their high status. A quick check on other hallways confirmed a few more individuals.

“Found them.” He frowned at the map, trying to calculate the best path to take the team through. “First one’s down that hall on your right — if you can get past all of their faithful guards first.”

“We will manage.”

That was starting to sound less and less like overconfidence and more a statement of fact. He sat back, monitoring their progress through the map and available security feeds. Her fighting style changed to accommodate the closed quarters, and the acrobatic flips and twirls incorporated the walls and rubble. The finer details of the lightsaber work was lost to the fuzzy, unstable connection, but even with that it still looked more like some frenetic dance.

By the time they had the codes in hand and stood in front of the elevator, it was clear that even the Jedi super endurance was getting a test today if the sheen of sweat he could make out on the security cameras were any indication.

“I don’t really have much on the upper-level defenses,” he said quietly, this time out loud as Darok’s impatience was starting to show again. “You can try to find an access point once you’re up there—but I’ve got a feeling you’re going to face some heavy opposition.”

“Will your modifications to the comm allow you to talk to me up there?”

He glanced at the weak signal stretched to the limits, and the heavy shielding indicated by the blueprint. When the Sith wanted to protect their communications, not even his best slicing tricks could get him in remotely. His experience infiltrating the Orbital Defense Command Center on Ziost proved that.

“It’s unlikely.”

This was the worst part of the op, the one thing that he couldn’t account for. Despite Darok’s planning, Theron’s intel, and his entire bag of slicer tricks, once she stepped through that door it was all out of his hands. He shifted his weight and crossed his arms, trying not to glare at the giant hole in the map that represented the Dark Council chambers.

“It will be all right,” she said quietly, and it took him a moment to realize she was talking to him. “You have gotten us this far — the Force will take us the rest of the way.”

He almost snorted aloud, but caught himself at the last moment. Whatever beliefs or mental exercises she needed to lean on were fine, especially if that’s what helped her accomplish the mission. It wasn’t his place to comment on that, especially when he needed her to stay focused on the end goal.

“Good luck,” he said instead.

He watched on the security feed as they stepped inside of the elevator until the doors closed and they disappeared from his view completely. He glanced back up at the map on the holotable, where the dot representing the strike team started to move up before suddenly winking out completely as they hit the shielded area.

“They’re in,” he said to Darok, and for once, the colonel was silent.

All that was left now was the waiting — and hoping that the little Jedi lived up to her larger-than-life reputation.

#swtor fanfiction #theron shan x jedi knight #Theron Shan #Female Jedi Knight/Hero of Tython #Kira Carsen #oc: greyias highwind #otp: adorkable #swtor #fanfic #smoke and mirrors #SoR Fic O Doom #greyfic #theron got a codename #(although probably not as cool as he was hoping for)

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eyeloch · 8 years ago

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An imperial hacker once managed to steal some highly secure and heavily encrypted files from General Syndulla’s old astromech. After rotations of difficult decoding work, they got the data at their hands.

ISB representatives were called in, since anything of this nature went through them.

...it turned out just the be embarrassing holo-pics and vids of the “Specters”, unfortunately for the technicians!

#star wars rebels #hera syndulla #c-10p #chopper #he does care #in his own 'special' way

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threadsketchier · 8 years ago

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A Hard Question

HHGGGGNNNNNNNNNN AT LAST IT IS FINISHED

Once upon a time an author did a lot of handwaving and our OTP got a magic Force Bond and lived happily ever after. (For a while. *sweary growling*) Except Force bonds shouldn’t really be that convenient, and while we’re at it, there was too much talking and not enough Feels™. I decided to do something about that. After much anguished keyboard smashing, here it is - a re-write of That Scene from Vision of the Future, except with really shitty action and waaaaaaaaay more emotions.

You’re welcome. (I hope?)

Read it at AO3

MUSIC: “Coward,” Hans Zimmer, Interstellar // “Rachel’s Song,” Vangelis, Blade Runner // “Where We’re Going,” Hans Zimmer, Interstellar // “Truth/Mal’s Speech,” David Newman, Serenity

“I’ve never had to find a hard question in my life. They’ve always found me first.”

“Well, I’ll be Kesseled. I was right.”

Mara’s arm shot out, smacking gently into Luke’s midriff to stop him from taking a step any further into the chamber. Even as the details of the massive room trickled through her periphery, to be filed away for use or caution, her attention remained fixed on a single spot nestled inside a deep alcove. Upon a figure floating in repose within a fully-outfitted cloning apparatus, a deceptively tranquil sight. The heat in her blood rose, peeling her lips back from her teeth.

“Ten years. Just like you said,” Luke murmured beside her, his voice laced with something between awe and grim resolve. Mara’s eyes narrowed; she could already feel him grappling with the moral quandary he suddenly faced, could practically hear the well-oiled gears of mercy cranking to life.

“Thrawn liked to believe he thought of everything,” she said with a spiteful satisfaction. “He obviously didn’t think of me.”

Luke’s head darted aside to spear her with a knowing look. “Mara - ”

“Spare me the lecture about how a clone isn’t guilty of the crimes of its template,” she hissed. “He was a conniving bastard who got off on manipulating, exploiting, and conquering the ‘unwashed masses.’ You really think he wouldn’t make sure his Version 2.0 inherited his superiority complex?” Luke’s mouth was opening, trying to edge in a retort, but she barreled on. “And don’t tell me it’s because he’s unarmed and helpless either - this entire facility is a weapon, from the turbolasers down to the database. You know what’ll happen when he wakes up. The New Republic’s already tearing itself apart; he’ll hardly have to lift a finger to finish unraveling it.” Her fingers curled around a fistful of Luke’s jacket, nails digging into the flesh beneath the fabric. “Don’t pull another Jomark on me, Farmboy.”

Don’t make me clean up the mess you’re too pure to handle.

His features taut with pained indignation, Luke jutted his chin sharply at the command console on the other side of the chamber. “At least let Artoo plug into that computer to see what he can download on the Unknown Regions data first.”

“And risk our only chance at him? You have any idea why it’s so empty in here?” She gestured at the cluster of furniture lined up along the edge of the main floor, stored beneath plastic sheeting. “You’d think Thrawn’s clone would have the same taste in interior décor. All this space reeks of a trap. Probably multiple traps, knowing him. I’ll bet you a bushel of vincoff he’s got ysalamiri around here somewhere.”

“This isn’t our only option,” Luke countered angrily. “If we can figure out a way to recover him from the cylinder, we can have him in our custody and take him back to the authorities. Underneath all those contingencies, he’s only a man; I think between the three of us we can handle him,” he added tartly.

Mara snorted and shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. As long as he’s alive, he has power. You don’t get that. After his brains, his reputation is his next weapon. Just the whiff of him has the whole galaxy running scared. Good luck handling the fallout while you’re waiting on the trial.” She unholstered her blaster and unhooked her lightsaber from her belt, and favored Luke with a tight, mirthless smile. “Y’know, Faughn said we made a good team. She was right. When you get squeamish, I’ll be here to take out the trash.”

Luke’s face crumpled, closing down, his jaw grinding from the barb. Sullen, he turned back and whispered harshly to his droid, “Get to the console and plug in,” as she finally entered the chamber and broke into a brisk jog along the upper walkway toward the alcove.

Mara kept the blue face square in her sights as far as she could see it on her approach. The face of the man who had driven Karrde to think she’d betrayed him. The man who had mocked her as nothing more than a gullible pawn, who’d employed a mad Dark Jedi who sought to bend and break her to his will, who’d cemented in her soul that the glory of the Empire was truly gone.

No more. She was in the business of exorcising old demons, after all.

Once she knew the alcove was below her, Mara hopped up onto the walkway railing and jumped straight down onto the main floor in front of it. The transparisteel wall sealing the cloning apparatus looked blast-proof to anything handheld, but nothing a lightsaber couldn’t make short work of. As far as she knew, Thrawn hadn’t figured out a way to make cortosis ore invisible. The fluid might make things messy, but that was the least of her concerns.

She brought up her lightsaber hilt and pressed it against the wall, right over the clone’s sternum. Just a flick of the switch and it would be over. For the second time, Thrawn was about to get his heart carved out by someone he’d sorely underestimated -

“Who dares disturb the sleep of the Syndic Mitth’raw’nuruodo?!”

Even Mara couldn’t help a reflexive flinch at the deep voice that thundered from somewhere above at a nearly deafening volume. On instinct she dropped into a crouch and spun to catch Luke’s eye; he looked equally startled and confused, also in defensive posture. Beside him the astromech abruptly began beeping and trilling loudly, bouncing back and forth on its stubby legs in either shock or delight, she couldn’t tell.

With the brief jolt of fear turning to annoyance, Mara chanced a look upwards in time to watch the high domed ceiling somehow liquify from a solid surface into a rippling mass that coalesced into the shape of an imposing face. Once again the booming voice asked from the mouth of the image, “Who dares disturb the sleep of the Syndic Mitth’raw’nuruodo?!”

Nice little special effect, she thought. Pick that one up from Hologram Fun World? “I do, you pompous rock worrt,” Mara muttered aloud. The hairs on her nape were already rising again, preparing her for the threat promised by the obnoxious distraction, and at best she’d only have another second to aim and ignite her blade before it was too late -

“Mara!” Luke cried out, and she was biting down a curse as her finger slid across the switch but her wrist pulled the hilt away from the wall to defend herself from a blaster bolt sizzling toward her head.

On the raised walkway stood two hulking sentinel droids that had seemingly emerged out of nowhere, quickly rolling apart from each other on heavy treads to broaden their attack pattern. Luke was dashing backwards from the command console while maintaining his own defense, approaching her, and had she not been so occupied Mara would have rolled her eyes at his obvious attempt to shield and protect her with his own body. It was more than useless in this situation anyway, with the sentinels rapidly stationing themselves at the opposite ends of the chamber. They were sitting fowls in their crosshairs.

Mara raked return fire across her sentinel’s head and joints, but the bolts merely glanced off; the droid’s armor was too reinforced. “Shavit,” she snarled. Of course Thrawn would do everything he could to Jedi-proof his backup plan.

Behind her there was a sudden yelp and the thud of a body hitting the floor near her feet, and for half a second a horrified disbelief gusted through her that Luke had managed to be hit, but then she heard him warning her with embarrassed frustration, “Cord snares! On the floor. Watch your step!”

Wonderful. Thrawn was just the gift that kept on giving.

Over the din of blaster fire she heard Luke grunt his way upright, and then his back was bumping into her as he braced himself against her. With nowhere else to go, Mara reluctantly let herself lean into him, the two of them pressed together, fighting frantically. Perfectly helpless.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she ground out through her teeth like a mantra, half to herself. “The oldest trick in the book and I still fell for it like some dumb farm kid.”

“Hey,” Luke shot back testily.

The Force lent them speed and accuracy and lengthened stamina, but it was no magic solution. Their muscles were going to tire well before the droids ran out of ammo, and all it would take was one missed block. In desperate fury Mara wished she could simply crush the damn thing into scrap, wrap her will around its head and torso and just squeeze the way Vader would callously dispose of whoever pissed in his helmet that day, but that would take more concentration and focus than she could spare just to stay alive through the relentless barrage.

Rage and defiance against the futility of it all narrowed her physical sight to the droid and its fiery hail alone. As her vision tunneled, however, her awareness was spreading and deepening - not of her own body and mind, but of the one behind and beside her.

Within her.

Luke’s arm around her waist and his head touching hers, his fingers laced through hers, his spirit and strength overlapping with hers to bring everything into clarity -

Except it was like having the sun at her back.

Stars, he burned. He burned.

It was easy to forget the devastation of such brilliance when it lay hidden behind a lean frame and a gentle tone. The infinite bled into the edges of his being, blurring the line between him and the rest of the universe. She spoke of power and carelessness, but standing, drifting here, confronted by the sheer magnitude of what was poured into this mortal shell…

This is what it felt like to carry the weight of planets and history and only remember to breathe in fleeting moments of bad puns and swigs of cheap beer on the deck of a decrepit freighter and bedtime stories with all the sound effects and voices added. Trembling hands pulling the trigger, clutching the flight stick, his lightsaber, letting go of the gantry and falling falling falling, dragging his father’s body, cradling his sister’s newborn children, loving to fight and fighting to love -

- her.

In the empathy and admiration of watching her shatter and slowly put the pieces of herself back together, year after year. In the way his soul would quiet even as she tried to rile him up, how his heart would be unburdened for those brief times whenever she dropped by, expecting nothing from him but his stupid face and his stupid smile and maybe some small talk about engine components and the market fluctuations of raw chocolate.

Here, in this strange place where time stretched into a meaningless expanse, Mara realized that for all of Luke’s openness, the one stubborn knot of emotional constipation in his life was her. His care had not been the dilute compassion she thought he extended to everyone. But he’d tried his damndest to smother it beneath all manner of excuses - he was the face of her nightmares, another scab of her old life, she was his apprentice, maybe, sometimes, it wasn’t right, everyone he ever loved he hurt, he killed, he couldn’t do that to her, she needed to be free, even from him -

And with the agonizing helplessness of fighting a dream gone wrong, her body engulfed in quicksand and her limbs turned to stone while her mind railed and screamed, Mara understood that whatever she saw of Luke, he must be seeing of her. All of her. Everything. Every blossom of misguided pride and desire to please, every unquestioned thought, every savor of the kill, every spray and smear of blood, every ounce of doubt and self-loathing, every hunger pang of want and need and denial and delusion -

She’d tried so hard to hide it, and now it was out. He loved her, he did love her, and how? How could he love such a thing?

It was like a pressure wave, the light intensifying and suffusing her. If a shout was tactile, maybe this is what it felt like. Flashes of Vader, of a bald, pale, heavily scarred old man smiling sadly, of a twitching hand and still-raw, half-healed forearm throbbing red-hot with pain whipped across her sense, and Mara felt herself embraced almost violently.

No, the light cried, no no no no. You are not a thing, and neither was he. You are more than monsters.

I’m sorry, he wept. I’m sorry that this is what it took.

She was staring at her own face, wet and ashen, the unkempt strands of her braid haloed around her head like solar prominences across the blackness of water.

Wait, what? What?

A shrill screech broke through the haze of unreality - or rather, somehow Mara understood what the noise should have sounded like while it was instead stretched out into a low, dull roar like a recording on a profoundly slow playback. In a sort of clinical daze she watched as R2-D2 crept into the edge of her sight, arc welder brandished and rolling across the upper walkway toward the sentinel attacking her. Evidently its master’s protective streak and ludicrous hero complex were contagious. She almost wondered just what the hell had taken the droid so damn long to get its metal rear in gear, but the bizarre distortion of time meant that less than a minute had to have elapsed.

Mara couldn’t believe the sentinel wasn’t aware of the approaching puny threat, but it gave no sign of acknowledging it yet. A small knot of lightning began to discharge from R2’s welder, and then she saw the first hint of the sentinel’s reaction, the slightest repositioning of its arm and the blaster muzzle beginning to angle away from her.

This was her chance. But to do...what, exactly? She could throw her lightsaber and slice through the one blaster, but in the time it would take her to call it back to her hand, a killing shot from the other weapon would dispatch her. And then the next would drill its way into Luke’s back or head.

FALL!

The word stabbed through her with such intensity she jerked and gasped, almost missing the next parry. At her confusion an image of the cord-strewn floor flickered across her mind, then a view of the domed ceiling as if she was looking straight overhead.

Fall with me! Trust me!

Mara realized it was Luke’s voice, though she wasn’t hearing it so much as feeling it, an instant comprehension as if his thoughts were her own, only colored in his distinctive heat.

There was no more time for questioning; whatever he was planning couldn’t be any worse than hers. The sparks of R2’s welder touched the sentinel, and without even sparing a glance aside, the larger droid swung that arm with a callous ease to shove the little astromech clean off its bearings.

In the second and a half that blaster wasn’t firing, and Luke’s shoulder blades stopped carving circles in her back, Mara let her right leg buckle to send her toppling down with him, bracing herself to ignore the pain in her shoulder and hip as she hit the floor. Immediately Luke flipped onto his back, and his lightsaber was whipping just above her face, momentarily blinding her as its blade caught the flurry of bolts from both sentinel droids.

Go for it! he was urging her, and gritting her teeth, Mara hurled her lightsaber toward her sentinel’s left blaster, bisecting the weapon into two halves of glowing slag. Imagining her hilt as the end of a whip, she drew and spun it to the droid’s other side to destroy its second blaster. The big lug had enough sentience to emit a rumbling growl of irritation at having been outwitted, but Mara knew she didn’t have time to relish that amusement; already it was digging into twin compartments in its upper legs for a fresh set of blasters. Kriffing Thrawn.

The enigmatic sight of her corpse-like face in the water shot to the forefront of her mind again. Water.

Her eyes darted to the water-stained wall near her droid opponent.

Practicing with the stalactites had given her enough skill now to briefly defeat the sentinel, but if she tried to pull a Vader, there was no guarantee she could summon both the brute strength and precision to ensure the droid wouldn’t remain functional. As much as her teenage self would have bristled at the thought, in this regard she was no Dark Lord. The urgency of Luke’s fatigue was beating at her; Mara was keenly aware of the strain on his arms and the simmering ache of burns from glancing near-misses as if his body were her own. Better to stick to what she knew.

With a high-pitched snarl of effort Mara sent her lightsaber flying toward the wall and drove its tip straight into the rock, carving out a small circle. Almost instantly an explosive jet of water began to spray from the cut, much quicker than she’d expected, and as it obscured the saber she nearly lost her mental grip on the hilt, fighting against both the dense stone and the incredible pressure. But she held on out of sheer desperation; she couldn’t afford to fail now -

And then the stone plug was shooting across the chamber with all the destructive speed of a missile. The armored lunk crumpled and flew like garbage ejected from a freighter.

Any sense of victory was short-lived, because over the sound of shearing metal came a bone-rattling thunder as the wall gave way, the jet enlarged to a waterfall, and the Lake of Small Fish decided to invite itself to the party.

Oh bloody h-

Still hyper-focused on the battle, Mara wasn’t at all prepared for the shockingly cold wave that slammed into her and sent her hurtling across the floor. Surprise and disorientation ripped a shout from her throat before instinct reminded her to keep her mouth shut and hold her breath, as the water mercilessly tossed and rolled her facedown into blinding white foam. She flailed wildly, clawing for the trip cords to give her something to anchor herself with, but the turbulence pushed her away, until she managed to bob back upwards to the surface just in time to see herself about to collide with one of the walkways.

Mara thrust her arms outwards to keep her face from bashing into the wall, scrabbled madly for anything to grip, but the swirling water kept drawing her aside. Suddenly a viselike pressure surrounded her torso, almost tight enough to crush the breath from her lungs, and she felt herself rise up out of the water with just enough height that she could reach the lower rung of the equipment balcony railing nearby.

Compelled by panic and the chance of safety, without thinking, Mara lunged for the railing and began to haul herself up before she cast a glance back over the water filling the chamber.

She couldn’t see Luke anywhere.

Alarm froze her in place. What if he’d been entangled in the cords and was drowning? Or finally taken a hit while she’d been engrossed in her rock torpedo ploy and the subsequent deluge? He had to be down there somewhere and she couldn’t see him, where was he? She realized he must have lifted her with the Force moments before, so he had to be alive, she hadn’t felt the pain of a mortal wound or...or…

An instant of unspeakable horror flooded her chest at the notion of what it would feel like if he was gone. Truly gone. Like when Palpatine had left her with that gaping, ragged, pitch-black hole -

Then Luke’s head broke through the churning water, coughing and spluttering, followed by a small metallic periscope beside him. Slowly R2’s blue and silver dome began to emerge, and Luke’s eyes caught hers, pleading. Help me, he was asking.

Not him, though, but the droid he was struggling to hoist out of the water and over to the balcony.

Mara fumed silently. Of course. Of course the idiot wants to save his rustbucket first.

Her mind felt raw, scraped and bruised by the effort of fighting harder for her life than she’d ever managed and their unprecedented union through the Force. Even a simple thing like levitating an astromech seemed beyond whatever mental strength she had left. But Mara pushed herself, jaw grinding and body rigid, and R2 floated unsteadily toward her and over the railing.

She didn’t bother to give it a soft landing. The droid squealed, no doubt in offense, and she ignored it; that wasn’t any worse than the backhand the sentinel had given it.

The surging of the water was starting to ebb somewhat as the level rose to meet its entry point, and Luke was able to swim to the balcony. Mara finished climbing over the railing, and as soon as he was within reach she bent down to seize him by an arm and the scruff of his jacket and pulled upwards with all her might. His hands closed around the rails and he dragged himself the rest of the way, rolling over the edge to collapse facedown in a boneless heap beside her.

Settling on her backside, Mara paused to consider their pathetic lot, the two of them utterly drenched and shivering, Luke coughing miserably, and couldn’t help a disgusted sigh at herself. Brilliant, she thought. Nothing like a plan that almost gets us both killed.

Slowly Luke turned onto his back and lay still for a minute, chest heaving. Mara nudged his ankle with the toe of her boot. “You okay?” she asked.

She was a little startled to find herself clearly aware of him thinking, I’m just enjoying the air, while he didn’t say a word, neither answering nor even looking at her for several more moments. His presence was an absolute mess of emotions sprawled across his exhaustion and he wasn’t even trying to shield any of it. “No,” he finally croaked aloud. “Not really. But…” With a groan and a wince he sat up, swaying a bit. Mara leaned forward to steady him, but he grasped the rail, and she found herself oddly hesitant to touch him now.

Luke was staring at her, his eyes unfocused yet piercing, his gaze rapt like a man drunk on a vision of the sublime. And as the weight of his regard bore down on her features, the weight of his spirit felt like molten ore poured into her veins, solidifying into something unbreakable.

Regret flickered across his face, and Mara felt him withdrawing, trying to extricate himself from this intimacy for her sake. But even with the cacophony of his pain and wonder growing quieter, an essence of him remained behind, imprinted in the depths of her mind, and somewhere deeper yet. Her heart, she supposed, as romantic twaddle might espouse.

They’d undergone some fundamental change in the midst of that fighting bond, a link so strongly forged it was now seared like a brand upon their very souls. Or, in less poetic terms, perhaps their mental patterns had been irrevocably altered to overlap one another, unable to disengage even after the battle was over.

Palpatine had insinuated himself on her, worming his way into her deepest affections, and she had welcomed him. Luke hadn’t sought this of her, had only tried to work with her to save their lives, and now he was in her master’s place.

Mara could no longer summon the terror and revulsion she’d felt earlier. There was nowhere left to run, nothing to take back. She’d already been more exposed to him than if she was crouching naked in his sight. Moreover, he’d likewise suffered under her own scrutiny.

A memory of his easy smile came to her from a decade before, when he’d casually confided some frivolous nonsense about the protocol droid aboard the Millennium Falcon, as if she’d been an old and dear friend of his, not a hostile agent bent on executing him.

Trust me.

Trust him, the way he’d always trusted her.

At last Luke tore his eyes away from her and looked out over the water with dread. She could feel the fear rising in him, clamoring against his attempts to stay calm and evaluate the situation properly. Mara knew it wasn’t for his own safety or even for the difficulty of their predicament.

With the New Republic ready to tear itself apart, you rushed off to save me. Ignoring your self-delegated responsibilities in order to save that one woman and her one life.

“So that’s why you came,” Mara said. His head turned back toward her. “You saw me...dead. In this.”

Her words drove a blade between his ribs and twisted. Luke’s eyes dropped away to the small space separating them, despair warring with denial. “Always in motion is the future,” he murmured, barely above the rush of the lake.

Now that stoked her ire. After all this, he was still going to reduce everything to his blasted Force. “Don’t start with your Jedi sh -”

Abruptly Luke sprang forward and took her by the hands, and with a painfully earnest look on his face he blurted out, “Mara, will you marry me?”

The question hit her like a punch to the throat, thoroughly stunning and leaving her speechless for a pair of heartbeats. When she managed to scrape together a reaction, she shook her hands free of his grasp and pushed his arms away from her as if she’d been burnt, drawing a mental flinch from him.

Whatever she’d been expecting him to say next - let alone at any point in time ever - it wasn’t that.

“We’ve never even fucked, Skywalker,” Mara shouted, “and you’re asking me this now?”

Chagrin rippled through him, shifting to manic humor and a fleeting glimmer of lust that practically spelled out, I suppose it’s a little late for that now, huh?

Mara almost laughed aloud at his self-deprecating honesty, seized by the contagious urge to just rip his sodden and tattered fatigues off and get it over with right then and there. Why not, when it might supposedly be her last moments alive. Maybe their last moments alive. But old bitterness arose to quash the ridiculous notion, whispering too little, too late.

“Funny that you’d fuck a student’s corpse before me,” she remarked, her voice surprisingly more sad than caustic to her ears.

If the whole fortress crumbled and came down on Luke’s head to bury him, it wouldn’t be enough to escape the accusation. His cheeks flamed and his presence withered, trying to pack itself down as small and dense as a neutron star, leaving the mental space between them dim and cold.

Mara shut her eyes and sighed, turning the hurt and anger and disappointment over in her thoughts like the well-worn hilt of a dagger. At this point her spite was as petty as his affections were too long in coming.

There wasn’t enough time. There never was.

The water was lapping just a few handspans below the edge of the balcony. It likely wouldn’t rise all the way up to the high domed ceiling, but their escape routes were completely cut off, the current not fast enough to carry them out such a long distance before they drowned.

With one hastily calculated move, she’d sentenced not only herself to death, but Luke as well.

I’m finally getting the job done fifteen years late, Mara thought bleakly.

But if he’d envisioned her body in the aftermath, it meant he would survive. She just didn’t know how.

Vacant blue eyes glared back at her, smoldering with obtuse hatred before glazing over with the shock of death. She’d given in to the command to stop the clone, to help save them all in the bowels of Mount Tantiss. Maybe this was her final purpose - not to use the shackles of her past against her master and his remnants, but to give her own life to preserve the very one he’d sought to destroy.

Mara stared indignantly into the water where the clone alcove lay submerged but safely ensconced behind its thick transparisteel. It irked her to no end that they were in peril but he’d be just fine, at least until he was scheduled to wake up and make his debut.

An idea began to coalesce in the part of her mind that wasn’t scattered and intruded upon. Luke’s head jerked up immediately.

“That cloning apparatus,” she started. “That’s got a pretty big generator, wouldn’t you say?”

“Probably,” Luke agreed, eyeing her warily.

“It’s a Braxxon-Fipps 590 fusion generator. And we’ve got plenty of water here, and some very fragile tunnels of cortosis ore. All we need is a way to get it wet.”

His eyes saucered. “Mara, that’s a hell of a lot of- ”

“Exactly. The only way we can get out of here now is to generate enough of a boom to possibly collapse and enlarge those passageways to speed up the drainage. Unless you’d rather stay put and fuck my brains out until we run out of air.”

She was already in motion, holding the railing and preparing to swing a leg over it, but Luke grabbed her shoulder. “Don’t. I’ll go.”

“You know what a Paparak cross-cut is?” she retorted.

When he blinked and frowned dumbly she continued, “It’s a technique that puts delayed stress on a wall to give you enough time to get clear. So no need to be the martyr today, and if I’m getting myself killed, it’s definitely not this way.”

Sighing, Luke relented and knelt by the railing to wait for her. Once she stood balanced on the outer edge of the balcony Mara held out a hand. “What I am going to need is to borrow your lightsaber.”

A lopsided smile split his face. He turned around toward R2, and with a bright chirp the droid opened a compartment and out popped her lightsaber. Mara stared flatly at both of them.

“...That’s why you were under there so long?”

Luke’s grin was positively bashful and yet a tad smug. She scowled and reached over to snatch the weapon, and he caught her wrist, his hand sliding down to gently squeeze her fingers closed around the hilt. Be careful.

Her lips stretched in a taut line, impatient and resigned, not quite a smile but an acknowledgement nonetheless. Always, Farmboy.

The water was calmer and clearer now, easier to navigate, and the chamber’s stark lighting illuminated her way. Luke’s anxiety hovered over her, restrained but irrepressible; he had faith in her expertise, but the fear of the unknown couldn’t be dispelled. Mara tuned it out without completely pushing him away.

Soon she found herself floating before the clone again. The great irony was that, had she been able to dispatch him earlier, the lakewater would have already flooded through the small breach of her blade and the unexpected blast might have killed both her and Luke. She could just imagine the Jedi lecture about patience that would’ve inspired, if they’d managed to live through it.

Never mind the fact that this was her first time executing a Paparak on transparisteel. But Luke didn’t need to know that either.

By the last cuts her lungs were starting to ache, so she could not afford any second-guessing. Willing herself to be satisfied with her work, Mara shut down the lightsaber and swam for the surface. The moment her head emerged and she was gasping a fresh breath, she felt the pressure around her midsection again - gentler and more evenly distributed this time - and found herself lifted above the water and quickly floating back toward the balcony. Mara shook her head irritably at Luke’s overprotective gesture, especially considering that he was waiting for her with open arms ready to catch her.

As soon as she’d cleared the railing he was stepping around her and stretched his body over hers as a cover, and she could feel him concentrating on forming a Force shield against the impending explosion. At the same time his hand was fumbling around her waist, prompting Mara to ask, “You change your mind about getting my pants off now?”

Luke puffed out something between a grunt and a chuckle, and then she heard the click of a coupling link onto her belt. Glancing aside, Mara noticed the wobbling gleam of a safety line tethering her to R2, who had likewise secured itself to the balcony railing. “How long?” he asked in return, breath warm on her neck.

“Honestly, I don’t know. Could be a few more seconds to a couple minutes.” Shivering harder now with the second exposure to the water, damp air, and cold floor beneath her, she had to begrudgingly admit appreciating Luke draping himself on top of her, despite the fact that he was equally wet.

They lay in awkward silence for several moments, until Mara pointed out, “He’s going to die to get us out of here. I don’t hear you protesting that anymore.”

She twisted her head around to be able to see Luke’s expression, but she could already sense his grave resignation, his coming to terms with the blood he’d already spilled throughout his life, all the atoms of once-living beings scattered across the void of space from his exploits.

“I wouldn’t have kept him alive if it meant losing you,” he replied, fierce in his honesty despite the softness of his voice.

A loud crack and the sudden surging of water were followed by a blinding flash of light, and Luke hunched down over her, one arm hugging her tightly. The noise was somewhat muffled by the water, but Mara still felt her ears pop from the pressure of the blast, electric pain shooting through her jaw. Despite Luke’s Force shield, the first massive wave that crashed down over the balcony sloshed around and easily lifted them with violent impunity, slamming them against the stone wall and threatening to suck them back out into the chamber. Several more times it struck and retreated, tossing them about like flotsam; between the water, the safety line, and Luke’s hold on her, it seemed as though she was going to be ripped in half.

When everything stilled enough to let them recover, Mara spluttered and sagged beneath Luke’s weight, forcing water out of her mouth and nose. He was coughing again, almost choking on a groan of pain or exhaustion, his chest a harsh bellows against her back.

“You all right?” she managed, her voice sounding canned to her ears.

“Yeah,” he whispered hoarsely. His arms trembled as he rolled off of her and released the safety line, and as Mara pushed herself up onto her knees she didn’t think she felt much better herself. But one look at the chamber confirmed that the effort had been worthwhile.

Only a single, flickering glowpanel had survived the explosion, but the dim light was just enough to let her see the water beginning to drain from the room back out into the tunnel.

“Guess it’s time to jump in?” she asked. “Or should we just wait for it to clear out?”

“No.” Luke’s reply came with the abruptness of a Force hunch. “I don’t know why, but we shouldn’t. We need to go now. Even though it’s gonna be a long, cold, bumpy ride, and I’m not sure how much air we’ll have along the way.”

Mara recalled the last time he’d had an air issue with his escape route. “Sounds like this is a job for cold-shirting. Your kind of cold-shirting, anyway.”

He regarded her with an irreverent smile. “You said that was crazy.”

“It’s not much crazier than this, I’ll admit.” Uncertainty began to creep over the edge of her bravado. It was a straightforward plan - let the current ferry them out. And yet, some unknown threat remained along the way, something that could result in what Luke had seen.

She’d already slipped on a pile of leaves and knocked herself out. Perhaps her end would be just as ignominious. At least I’ll still have the satisfaction of having brought it on myself, she thought sardonically.

“We can’t both be completely out, though,” she countered.

“No, I’ll stay in a half-trance. Just enough to reduce my oxygen demand but keep some awareness. I won’t tether us this time; if one of us gets stuck somewhere, we all get stuck.” He licked his lips nervously, bracing himself against the same fear of what lay ahead in their last ordeal to escape the fortress again. “Take some deep breaths and think about what code phrase you want me to use to wake you up.”

A code phrase. Right. Mara nodded, her mind withdrawing to another time and distant place she had never been but could clearly picture, shrouded in pensive night, suffused with the scents of evergreen and engine exhaust from Imperial walkers. Her hands were cuffed but her spirit could never be bound. Across from her stood Vader, seemingly lost in thought as he studied his son’s new lightsaber held reverently in his grasp. She had everything and nothing left to lose.

In the present, Luke gazed back at her with understanding, tenderness and apprehension mingling in his features. He raised a hand to her face, thumb caressing her cheekbone and fingers brushing aside wet strands of her hair, and she felt his gentle influence begin to coax her toward sleep.

Seized by a sudden impulse, Mara resisted the trance’s onset and reached out to take hold of his jaw to bring his mouth to hers, kissing him roughly with a hunger that would never be sated. If this was the end, then the sight of his face and the taste of his lips would be the last thing she could take with her into the darkness.

His breath was hers, and then the world faded away.

“Come with me.”

Consciousness rushed back into her, and Mara gasped reflexively, blinking away the water clinging to her eyelids. Strong arms were holding her, and in the light of a glowlamp she could make out the resolving blur of Luke’s face looking down at her as if she was the birth of a new creation in his very sight. Releasing his breath in a sigh of joy and relief, he smiled and gathered her up tightly, his laughter sounding almost like crying. In the Force he shone like a pulsar, blazing out gratitude and the near-hysteria of having surmounted loss, and she could feel him shaking against her. Slowly Mara wrapped her own arms around him and reached up to weave her fingers into his wet hair, stroking her nails softly over his scalp.

Yeah, Farmboy, I’m here. I’m here. You can’t get rid of me that easily.

Luke pulled away just far enough to rest his forehead against hers, his lips parted and his eyes full of yearning, and for a moment Mara thought he might kiss her in return. But he held himself back, simply breathing in time with her, and she realized that he was waiting. Waiting for her answer, and perhaps willing to wait for a lifetime, regardless of her decision. Despite the illusion of freedom, there was something inexorable about his love that had nothing to do with mental or spiritual bonds.

They had time after all - time for her to wonder if there was something fundamentally wrong with her, time to investigate whether this bond could be undone, time to contemplate if was worth keeping, time to ponder a life with him that could consist of more than mere passing-bys and regret.

“I’ll think about it,” she said, and this time she meant it.

#yoiks & awaaaaaaaaaay #THE HILLS ARE ALIVE WITH THE SOUND OF MY FEEEEEEEEEELS #achievement unlocked #ration bars and rage #once a farmboy always a farmboy #star wars #mara jade #luke skywalker #OTP for life #my fics #ADJKLFJAJKLFJDSKLDS

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