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I Yearn, and so I Fear - Part I - Chapter I

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General Summary. Nearly a year since the Galactic Empire’s rise to power, Kazi Ennari is trying to survive. But her routine is interrupted—and life upended—when she’s forced to cohabitate with former Imperial soldiers. Clone soldiers.

Pairing. Commander Wolffe x female!OC

General Warnings. Canon-typical violence and assault, familial struggles, terminal disease, bigotry, explicit sexual content, death. This story deals with heavy content. If you’re easily triggered, please do not read. For a more comprehensive list of tags, click here.

Fic Rating. E (explicit)/18+/Minors DNI.

Chapter Word Count. 4.8K

Beta. @starstofillmydream

“The risk of love is loss and the price of loss is grief. But the pain of grief is only a shadow when compared with the pain of never risking love.” - Hilary Stanton Zunin

16 Telona

Kazi would never again visit the lighthouse with her sister.

The place where they peeled citrus-stars, watched oceanic storms, danced in puddles, played and laughed, and smacked the other when they argued. It was their sanctuary. And, of course, the ragged lighthouse overlooking Outlook Harbor preserved their culture—the eldest of Ceaian legend.

The legend of the dragons.

As legend claimed, a dragon guarded each Ceaian harbor, its fire a source of light for ships navigating the rugged surf and rocky cliffs. Without the dragons’ guidance, sailors would crash and drown, and the Ceaian population waste away.

When the last of the dragons died, lighthouses replaced their source of light and guidance. But a lighthouse could never replace the security and warmth of a dragon.

A lighthouse could never replace the visceral reaction of seeing a dragon. Of knowing you were home.

Dominated by childlike wonder, Kazi decided, when she was six, that she would buy the old lighthouse and fix it up. Beside it, she would build an inn. And one day her inn—adorned with her sister’s flowers and succulents—would be the most lauded across all of Ceaia.

For years the dream sustained her and her sister. She would run the inn and manage the finances, meanwhile her sister would oversee decorations and meal planning. Nothing else mattered. Except for a rowdy sailor here or there. But Kazi would handle them too. Because she would protect her sister. She would always protect her little sister.

And so those girls dreamt of their future and planned for endless happiness.

But life never cared much for dreams.

Nowadays, Kazi tried to forget the lighthouse’s existence. It made it easier to ignore the ache in her heart and guilt in her mind.

Slashing rain warmed her fingers as Kazi snapped the final window shut, securing the house from the onslaught of the torrential rainstorm. The sunroom’s windows—spanning the entirety of the wall—overlooked the rolling hills of Eluca’s endless jungle, the planet’s three moons hidden behind clouds pregnant with more rain.

Housing a small couch, four armchairs, a game table, and a handful of potted plants Daria fawned over, the sunroom was Kazi’s favorite place in the house. It boasted the best view of sunrises, and the best views of Eluca’s near-daily rainstorms.

Tonight, the storm was the worst Kazi had seen since arriving on Eluca two months ago. It wasn’t an oceanic storm, but it was close enough.

Thunder boomed, loud enough to rattle the windows. Rain harshened its upheaval; lightning spider-webbed chaotic rictuses across the blackened sky.

Kazi started to smile—the awe and terror of raging storms a memory buried—but the muscle movement strained. Her half-smile fell away. She wasn’t sure how long it had been since she last smiled. At least two months. Probably the day before the Purge—

“I met a man at the marketplace today.”

Kazi stiffened. From the corner of her eye, her sister approached the windows, hands clasped loosely before her stomach. A healthy distance—a meter—separated their bodies. Daria seemed to maintain the distance instinctively. Kazi both noted and despised it.

There was a time when Daria would sneak into her bed late at night. Usually scared from the storms, her sister sought refuge beneath her bed covers. She hadn’t minded. What else was a big sister for?

Now, the distance was a physical phenomenon. Tangible; representative of the emotional distance built over the last decade. Kazi held the blame and responsibility. But she still craved the missing connection. The muffled laughter in the middle of the night; sneaky grins; warm hugs.

Daria observed the lashing rain with a blasé countenance that belied her usual calculation. “He’s kind but also ambitious, and his financial situation is sound. I want you to meet him—”

“No.” Kazi crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ve told you, repeatedly, that I won’t entertain arranged dates—”

“This one is good,” Daria interrupted, facing her. “Give him a chance—”

“I said no.” Kazi kept her voice quiet and controlled, refusing to yell and risk waking Neyti. “I’m too busy with work and taking care of you—”

Daria recoiled. A flash of lightning emphasized the blush staining her cheeks. Kazi bit her tongue. Her sister was sensitive to any mention of her illness.

“I only ask that you consider meeting him.” Daria straightened, her gentle poise sharpening, like a vibroblade sparking to life. “I’d like to see you married before I die.”

Kazi bit back her annoyed groan, opting for a glare. Currently, she had three goals, and marriage was not one of them.

The first goal was treatment for her sister’s illness. It should have been simple to accomplish, and while she had found a healer specialized in palliative care, Daria’s symptoms were still ubiquitous and worrisome. Even now sweat beaded her sister’s forehead, and her fingers spasmed unintentionally.

The problem laid with ineffective medicine, according to Healer Natasha’s most recent report.

“As I’ve told you,” Kazi said slowly, “I’m not interested in wasting my time on arranged dates—”

“How are you not lonely?”

Kazi scoffed. “Loneliness is not a reason to get married.”

“Maybe not,” Daria said, “but you have no one to rely on. No parents. No friends. No husband.”

A hollow sensation gaped in her chest but Kazi ignored it.

Daria took her silence as permission to continue. “Marriage is a necessity in life. Humans desire companionship—women desire the stability a man can bring to our lives. We’re not meant to be alone.”

Kazi took a few seconds to organize her thoughts and counterarguments. After years with a mother who shared Daria’s sentiment, she was prepared for this specific debate.

“Marriage isn’t something you can force between two people who don’t know one another,” Kazi started, forcibly calm. “Marriage should be based on love. Not desperation or settling out of loneliness. Marriage is about two people who realize they want to share life together. Who feel life is complete when the other is in it.”

Daria snorted. “That’s quite the idealistic notion of romance I wouldn’t expect from you.”

“It’s not idealistic—”

“But it is.” Daria quirked a manicured eyebrow. “Marriage is a pact to maintain the traditions and ideals of two families, and to implement those beliefs in a future generation. It’s more than just love.”

At the condescension in her sister’s tone, Kazi gritted her teeth. She wasn’t an idealist; she preferred realism as her chosen form of analysis. But love wasn’t an idealistic notion for hopeless romantics. She had read the stories and myths. Love was attainable. Maybe not for her, but it still existed. And she refused to settle for a marriage borne out of duty rather than respect and trust and emotional connection.

The argument represented the sisters’ different lines of thinking, and Kazi couldn’t help but wonder: if their father hadn’t died when they were so young and their mother imposed Reformist teachings on an impressionable Daria, would Daria have shared Kazi’s beliefs?

Then again, Daria was the perfect mold she was trained to be: a dutiful wife. And nothing more.

“Think about Neyti,” Daria said. “She’s a child who needs stability in her life—who needs the stability a man can provide.”

Kazi sniffed. “I don’t need a man to provide stability to Neyti’s life. I can provide it.”

“I know you feel responsible for upholding your promise to her mother,” Daria placated, “but you need to think about this situation logically. Neyti needs a family. She needs two parents. She needs emotional support and love.”

“I can be her family.” Kazi frowned at her sister. “I can raise her. I can love her. I can take care of her.”

“Oh, Kazi.” Daria gave her a sympathetic look that itched. “Do you truly believe that?”

“Yes.”

“You have no emotional capacity for a child. You can’t take care of her the way she deserves to be taken care of. Not when you’re alone.”

Kazi resisted the urge to flinch, and instead, shifted her attention to the game table where a bedraggled stuffed dog laid. The toy belonged to a six-year-old girl—a girl shoved into her arms when she was fleeing Ceaia. A child who no longer spoke and remained an enigma she couldn’t figure out. Neyti.

The second goal was to find Neyti suitable, loving parents. Parents who could raise the sweet child in an insecure world fraught with instability and fascism. However, the goal was proving difficult.

Entering a child into a credible adoption center required extensive documentation. Medical records, education certificates, familial-history records. Kazi didn’t even know Neyti’s last name, much less have access to any of the required documents.

Their first week on Eluca, she enrolled Neyti in the local primary school, and she secured baseline medical tests. The medical tests proved useful for Neyti’s therapy. Still, the adoption process was slow and arduous.

Daria wasn’t aware of Neyti’s impending adoption. She believed Kazi was committed to raising Neyti herself. It was a secret Kazi wanted to maintain. Still, Daria’s concern for her lacking competence to care for Neyti hurt.

“I have emotions, Daria.” Her voice was too strained and Kazi grimaced, clearing away the twinge of hurt. “I’m passionate, I feel things, I experience a wide range of emotions. Just because I don’t allow them to dictate my decisions doesn’t mean I’m unfeeling and emotionless.”

“I never said you were.” Daria waved a dismissive hand. “All I’m saying is that your emotional capacity is not sustainable nor durable for a child. You work all day; you work late into the night. You aren’t physically around much for her, and you’re too aloof to provide her the emotional stability she needs. Have you ever considered why she still doesn’t speak?”

“She’s grieving—she lost her mother two months ago,” Kazi said disbelievingly. “She needs space to grieve, and I’m not going to force her to do something she finds solace in.”

“But have you considered the possibility that she doesn’t feel comfortable or safe with you to speak?” Kazi winced at the accusation but her sister wasn’t finished. “Neyti needs emotional support, which you can’t give if you’re not physically present.”

“This conversation is over.” Kazi uncrossed her arms, fisting her hands behind her back to hide their trembling. “I’m not entertaining a marriage for the sake of a false notion of stability.”

“It’s not a false notion,” Daria argued. “You may refuse to acknowledge it in yourself, Kazi, but I see it. I see your struggles, and I know that you need someone—”

“That’s enough.” She turned away from the windows. “You don’t know me. You don’t know anything about my own wants. So don’t you dare try to pretend that you’re interested in securing me a marriage outside of your own personal goal of making me live up to Mama’s teachings.”

“That’s not what I’m trying to do—”

“It is. Just because you failed to get married and have children, doesn’t mean I want that for myself.”

Daria flinched. Disbelief wrinkled her forehead, and for a long moment, she merely stared at Kazi, as if uncertain who stood before her.

“Every woman wants to be married and have children,” Daria finally said, securing her hurt behind a well-practiced mask. “It’s in our nature.”

“You’re delusional.” Kazi ignored Daria’s affronted glare. “Forget Mama’s teachings. They did nothing to help you, and she was wrong about most things.”

“Don’t disrespect the dead.”

“I didn’t respect her when she was alive. What’s the difference now?”

“Maybe Mama was right.” Daria sneered at her. “Your access to emotions died the day Papa did.”

Kazi opened her mouth—what to say, she wasn’t sure—but two loud knocks on the front door interrupted. A signal. It was a reminder of her third and final goal: to survive the rebel network.

Relations with the rebel network were new and difficult to navigate. Kazi was indebted to them. She owed them her life—and Daria and Neyti’s lives—and for that reason, she served the network’s needs. However, the network wasn’t a benevolent entity, and being indebted to its cause rattled Kazi more than she liked to admit.

Typically, she avoided debts. They forced her into a compromising position, allowing someone the opportunity to control her. She preferred self-reliance to kindness, and when she did indebt herself, she always paid it back quickly.

Her father believed it a question of honor and a true demonstration of character. Her mother took a more cynical approach: “To be in someone’s debt is to give them power over you,” she once told Kazi. “Only fools put themselves in such situations.”

Sometimes she wondered how her mother would have responded to the Purge. Would the Ennari matriarch humble her obstinance to secure a means for survival?

Whatever her mother would have decided didn’t matter. Kazi sought the network’s aid, and now she owed them. So far, she had met Eluca’s five rebels, the cohort a tight-knit group. It was one of many belonging to the larger network slowly establishing a presence in the Outer Rim.

Kazi rarely interacted within the cohort, receiving orders from Fehr or Bash, the network’s main contacts, and acted alone. But that morning, she received a comm from Fehr asking her to join an unexpected meeting. The message left her unsettled, and her arrival at the abandoned warehouse used for most meetings heightened her consternation.

Some days, like that morning, she questioned if she was walking into a trap, wary of Imperial stormtroopers posed for her capture. Today, only the five other rebels were present.

“My contact has informed me that three men want to establish a safehouse out of reach of the Empire,” Fehr said. A human woman at least twenty years Kazi’s senior and the owner of one of Hollow Town’s highest employed farms, Fehr preferred brusqueness to political coyness. It was something Kazi appreciated. “Their operations will be separate from ours.”

Carinthia, a data courier for Moff Harpy of Veridian Sector and a skilled identification and chip saboteur, narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “How do you mean?”

“These men will be running rescue-and-relocate missions.” Fehr glanced across the five other members. “They’re former employees of the Empire.”

Kazi pursed her lips, noting the discomfort of those around her. Bash, Head Treasurer of Eluca’s national bank and a well-respected member of the Elucan government, furrowed his brows. Lore and Sparks, married pilots, shared a skeptical look.

“Former employees of the Empire can’t be trusted,” Carinthia argued, her skin eerily pale in the warehouse’s shadows.

“We trust you,” Lore said casually.

Carinthia sneered. “I never worked for the Empire—”

“But your family—”

“Is of no importance.” Carinthia swiped her hand through the air. “How do we know we can trust these men?”

“The more important question is,” Kazi interrupted, irritated by Fehr’s lack of transparency, “who are these men? You say they’re former employees, but where did they work?”

“Former intelligence workers would be nice to have,” Sparks said. Lore nodded her agreement.

Fehr took a deep breath, black eyes settling on Kazi. “These men are former soldiers.”

Kazi tensed, an unwelcome burst of panic clogging the back of her throat. Fehr wouldn’t risk the dangers of—

“They’re clones.”

In the silence that followed Fehr’s declaration, Kazi forced herself not to react. She bit her tongue until it hurt, controlling her features and ordering her panic to calm the fuck down. She could not appear incompetent nor afraid.

But the panic in her chest was as sharp as an electric shock. Simultaneously heart-stopping and heart-quickening.

“Clones are loyal to the Empire,” Bash said diplomatically.

A silky voice imbued with a calm that complimented Fehr’s usual bluntness, Bash was a difficult person to read. With bronze skin and cunning silver eyes, he and Fehr were the sole rebels indigenous to Eluca. His position within the planetary government, as well as his contacts within the rebel network, made him the most important and powerful member of the cohort.

To learn that Bash wasn’t aware of the clones’ arrival intrigued Kazi. Similar to the Empire’s backstabbing politicking, it seemed the rebel network didn’t share all their information with each of its contacts. Kazi tucked away the information.

“We can’t trust them,” Bash continued.

“Be reasonable, Fehr,” Carinthia said, her smile wan. “Clone allegiance is to whichever government is in control.”

Fehr straightened, and though her tone was collected, it was lined with an edge that could cut. “These men have denounced their allegiances—”

“And their allegiances could switch again.” Sparks shook his head. Even the adventurous pilot was hesitant. “If you need an example: look at the Republic.”

Agreement swept through the small group. But Fehr was staunch in her decision.

“The clones are operating a rescue-and-relocate mission. Our paths will rarely cross, and they won’t be working planetside.” Fehr stared them down, her glare unapologetic.

Shortly after, the meeting dissolved. Kazi made to leave but Fehr motioned for her and Carinthia to stay, the latter throwing a perplexed look at Kazi. The moment Bash left, his eyes narrowed in skepticism, Fehr faced the two women.

“There’s more about the clones that I didn’t share with the cohort,” Fehr said. “The clones will be staying planetside.”

To her annoyance, Kazi noticed Carinthia studying her. They were similar in age, and yet their backgrounds were vastly different. Carinthia hailed from a wealthy family that lived in the Inner Rim, and her shrewd personality bordered conniving.

“They need somewhere spacious to make their base. Somewhere far enough away from the city where they can easily hide.” Fehr squared her shoulders and stared Kazi in the eye. “I offered the men the basement.”

Kazi blinked, uncertain if she had heard correctly.

“The basement…” Her voice hitched and she cleared her throat. “You want the clones to stay in the basement. At the house where I’m living.”

Fehr nodded.

Her hands started to tremble and Kazi clenched her jaw. Clenched it so hard she thought it might break.

“The clones are the reason I’m on this damned planet, Fehr.” The strain in her voice was palpable but she didn’t care. Fehr was the sole rebel she considered somewhat benevolent, and this new information was a betrayal she wasn’t prepared for. “Have you forgotten that?”

“I haven’t,” Fehr said calmly. Too calmly. “But these men deserted. They don’t serve the Empire and they need a place to stay. I considered one of the apartments in town but people will be curious and could start talking. The house is an ideal location.”

The house, not your house.

Because the house didn’t belong to Kazi. It belonged to Fehr who had gifted it to her when she first arrived on Eluca, homeless and penniless.

The memory still rankled her. Her pride cringed at her forced reliance on another person. Her chagrin was further heightened by her financial helplessness. Years of frugality, investments, and savings were made obsolete by the rise of the Empire.

“It’s not that awful, Kazi,” Carinthia said. “The house is large. Large enough for you three to survive cohabitation with a few clones.”

Before Kazi could respond, Fehr raised her hand. “I know your history with the clones isn’t ideal. And if you’re uncomfortable—” Carinthia released a derisive scoff that had Kazi tensing. Fehr shot the younger woman a hard look. “If it’s too much, I can look at other locations. But the basement—”

“Is ideal,” Carinthia cut in. “It’s large enough, and it connects to the communications tower. I assume that’s a necessity for them.” Carinthia twirled a crimson curl around a finger, her expression contemplative. “Eluca’s proximity to a well-plotted hyperlane, and the surgent of Imperial military bases across Veridian Sector and the Outer Rim, at large, make this planet the most effective base.”

Fehr nodded, her attention returning to a still-silent Kazi. “It’s your choice.”

Except it wasn’t. Not really. The house wasn’t even in her name—an attempt to protect her sister and Neyti. To prevent Imperial officials looking into their sudden immigration and ambiguous history.

It was an older yet well-maintained home settled in a forgotten neighborhood five kilometers from Hollow’s Town. The neighborhood stood empty except for two other houses located a kilometer away.

Built a century prior in the midst of a planetary civil war, the basement served as a bomb shelter. One of four designated for the neighborhood. Fortified by duracrete and buried deep in Eluca’s soil, the basement housed five bedrooms with ten bunks each, three refreshers equipped with full amenities, and a war room dedicated to military strategy. The war room was still wired to the communication tower in the capital. The only communication tower available for public use in Veridian Sector with consistent and reliable access to the Mid and Inner Rims.

Kazi had visited the basement once. The darkness, and the knowledge that hundreds of tons of dirt could easily bury her, convinced her never to return. It was the ideal location for rescue-and-relocate missions. Which irked her.

“It’s fine.” She clasped her hands behind her back. She was indebted to Fehr, anyway. “We can make it work.”

Three more knocks, rapid and quieter, followed the first two. The completion of the signal. Kazi followed Daria through the kitchen and toward the front door, her body tensed to a point of pain. Anxiety itched her skin, like thousands of ants crawling along her spine and burrowing in her hair.

She opened the door and then retreated a safe distance. Fehr stepped into the small entryway. Behind her, three males followed. Dark gray ponchos hid their upper bodies and hoods cast their faces in shadows.

Kazi schooled her features into insouciance. One of the few benefits of etiquette lessons: she could control her expression. For the most part.

Rain frizzed Fehr’s ebony hair and the older woman patted her braids, nodding at Kazi. She scanned the kitchen behind the two sisters. “Is Neyti—”

“Asleep.” Her tone was curt and she ignored Daria’s disapproving scowl.

The older woman chuckled. “School must have been exhausting if she can sleep in this weather.”

“The thunder was louder back—” Well, it didn’t matter.

Silence ensued, eclipsed by the echoing thunder and the rain from the clones’ ponchos dripping onto the hardwood floor. Ever the dutiful host, Daria stepped forward, her smile practiced kindness and warmth.

The ease in her sister’s friendliness was a point of jealousy for Kazi. Growing up, she yearned to exude the same gentleness Daria effortlessly managed. She never perfected it.

“Welcome,” Daria said. She gestured to Kazi. “We made up three of the beds downstairs and stocked the fridge with extra food.”

It was a lie. Kazi didn’t shop for the food—only Daria—and she didn’t make the beds. She lugged the sheets and pillow cases from the upstairs closet to the basement but she refused to make a bed for a grown adult.

The clone to the left stepped forward and removed his hood. Beneath the dimmed lights in the entryway his skin was dark brown and his eyes even darker. A white scar threaded itself from his temple to his cheek. Black hair was trimmed precisely, long enough to run a hand through. He looked to be a year or two older than Kazi. Possibly twenty-eight.

“That was generous of you,” the clone said. He gestured to the two other clones. “We’re grateful for this.”

A blush darkened Daria’s cheeks and Kazi almost rolled her eyes. Her sister extended her hand and the clone accepted it. “I’m Daria, and this is my sister, Kazi.”

Kazi didn’t step forward; she didn’t offer her hand. She merely nodded. The clone assessed her for a moment, his eyes flitting from her face to Daria’s, probably noting their differences.

Trained for society, Daria carried herself with an easy elegance. Her hair was honeyed and loosely curled. The green of her eyes was darker than the jungle after a rain shower. Hours gardening over the years had softened the curves of her body.

Unlike her sister, years of swimming left Kazi with an athletic and toned build. A body type undesired by high society Ceaian males, as she was told, repeatedly, by her instructors.

And even though she attended the same finishing classes as Daria, she never mastered her sister’s posh demeanor. She was well-mannered and polite, but she spoke with a bluntness considered too judgmental, further heightened by the darkness of her eyes with their slashes of hazel.

“Like a bird of prey,” her instructor for Poise and Deportment once complained to her mother.

Her mother considered her with a critical eye, and Kazi steeled herself. “I would counter: sunlight in a meadow.”

It was one of the rare times her mother complimented her, and it had stuck with her the last seven years. To this day, her eyes remained her favorite feature.

A throat cleared and Fehr glanced at her chrono. “Kazi, Daria, let me introduce you to former commanders Cody, Wolffe, and Fox.”

Kazi’s heart faltered.

Commanders. The clones weren’t just soldiers. They were fucking commanders.

She shot Fehr a baleful glare. The older woman’s gaze was already on her face, and imperceptibly, she dipped her chin, acknowledgement and confirmation of Kazi’s unspoken accusation.

The woman had known all along the clones were former commanders. She had known and had refused to mention it.

If the situation hadn’t affected her life, Kazi would have admired Fehr’s sly play. Instead, she ignored the woman, fisting her hands tightly behind her back to hide their trembling.

The two other clones removed their ponchos. Kazi tried not to stare but the rumors were true. They were identical. Except for a few distinctive traits.

The one on the right—Commander Fox—bore a scar on his chin; his hair was similarly styled to Commander Cody’s. At her perusal, the clone arched a brow. His eyes swept across her face, in both assessment and curiosity.

She moved her gaze to the last one. Commander Wolffe.

He was observing her with a neutrally-controlled countenance. Narrowed eyes. Rigid shoulders. Calculated expression.

Kazi recognized the look in his face—the subtle wariness and hardened reticence. It was the same shrewdness she practiced. One she relied on to determine genuine from disingenuous; trustworthy from unreliable.

Emphasizing the guarded calculation in his gaze was a stark white scar. Like a bolt of lightning, it seared the skin above his right eye and slashed down to his cheek. Whatever had torn his skin must have ruined his eye, for a silver cybernetic sat in his socket.

“I have business to attend to,” Fehr said, drawing Kazi’s attention away from her analysis. The lack of explanation and the urgency in Fehr’s tone warned Kazi the ‘business’ was network-related.

Once the darkness of night swallowed Fehr’s form, Daria showed the clones to the basement. Surreptitiously hidden behind a white bookcase bereft of personable touches other than a dragon figurine and a few succulents Daria had purchased the last few weeks, the staircase to the basement was dimly lit by a buttery-yellow light. The stairs descended into a blackness thicker than the ocean’s surface on a moonless night.

Few words were exchanged. Kazi didn’t bother with false pleasantries, she left it to Daria, and soon the basement door swung back in place. The bookcase rested snugly against the white wall. Even the most observant soldier would overlook the entrance’s location.

“They seem…nice,” Daria said, shifting the pot of a vibrant blue succulent. “You could have been more inviting.”

“Why?” Kazi gave her sister a condescending smile. “Are you wanting to match me with one of them?”

“Kazi.” Daria released an exasperated sigh. “I’m trying to help you prepare—”

“I don’t need your help. And I certainly don’t want it.”

“Fine.” Dabbing at her forehead, Daria sniffed. “I’m sorry for caring.”

Kazi snorted. “Caring? Is that what you call this nagging?”

“I do care.” Daria started to tremble. “I have always cared and—” She cut off, pressing a palm to her temple, her face screwed in pain.

Kazi reached for Daria’s shoulder, her stomach dipping with concern. But her sister backed away. The dismissal silent yet resoundingly loud. Louder than the thunder rattling the old windowpanes. Her hand fell to her side; she tried to ignore the guilt bittering her mouth.

Lifting her chin, Daria smoothed the fabric of her pale purple dress. She looked Kazi over once, disappointment thinning her lips, and then made her way toward the staircase opposite the bookcase. The old stairs creaked beneath her labored pace.

The moment her sister’s door clicked shut, Kazi collapsed on the bottom step, rubbing her temples.

She didn’t want the clones here. Hell, she didn’t want to be here. On this planet. In this fucking house.

It was too much.

Daria’s disease.

Neyti’s adoption.

Spying for the network.

Three clone commanders.

A disappointment. Incompetent. Indebted. Possibly endangered.

She looked out the kitchen windows toward a clearing sky. Eluca’s three moons peeked through the clouds like a child peering through a curtain. The urge to run—to ignore all of her problems, to avoid the responsibility—hit her.

But she couldn’t run. Not this time.

Masterlist | Chapter 2

A/N: Next chapter release �� January 11th

Pronunciations:

Kazi Ennari: kah-zee ; uh-nar-ee Daria: dar-ee-uh Neyti: nay-tea Fehr: fare Eluca: eh-look-ah (emphasis on first syllable) Ceaia: say-ee-uh (emphasis on second syllable)

#I Year and so I Fear #commander wolffe x oc: kazi ennari #commander wolffe #oc: kazi ennari #commander wolffe x ofc #star wars fanfiction #commander wolffe fanfiction

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ariadnes-red-thread · 2 days

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The Last Word: Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR: SAY NOTHING

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter [coming soon]

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Fives/OFC

Chapter Summary: Brought face-to-face with Fives after their one-night stand, Mal faces hard choices and harder truths. Meanwhile, Fives knows at least one thing that this new battalion medic is hiding and he's beginning to suspect that there might be more.

Chapter Warnings: Some swearing (mostly in mand'o), Mentions of Umbara/past trauma and past sexual situations, canon-typical violence, character death mention/flashback

Chapter Word Count: 5.8k

Recommended Listening: Say Nothing by Flume feat. MAY-A

A/N: Another new chapter? Within a month? WHO IS SHE?

Ao3

Taglist

She was staring, a sardonic voice pointed out from somewhere deep within her. Mal snapped her mouth shut and clenched her jaw to keep it from falling open again. Fives was here.

For a moment, she glowed. Mal felt herself light up as the night before enveloped her. She thought about the boundless joy of his laugh, the soft friction of his facial hair, the heat of his broad body, the gentle and hungry press of his lips. Then, she caught the dull reflection of her green eyes in the durasteel wall behind him.

Panic rippled through Mal’s body, casting any lightness into deep, dark shadow.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“This is Tup.” Mal’s heart was racing as Kix went down the line, oblivious to the inner turmoil that she’d been thrown into. “And this is Fives, our resident ARC.”

“And resident pain in the ass,” Jesse added.

Fives pressed his lips together in a smirk. There was no doubt he recognized her. The ripples of panic swelled into waves that threatened to pull her under any moment. She did the only thing she could think of.

“Nice to meet you.” Mal quickly spoke, a bit louder than she meant.

Tup gave a cheerful reply that she only faintly heard. Instead, Mal stared at his brother. Fives’ eyebrows shot up. His eyes flashed over her and he frowned before he finally nodded. Mal let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding.

“Likewise.” Fives’ reply was pointed, but only to her.

“Come on,” Kix said as he took a step forward, oblivious to the thousand little unspoken words that had just passed between his new civilian medic and his brother. “I’m starving.”

The small group moved together to the mess hall. Around her, Jesse, Kix, and Tup joked and laughed. Only she and Fives walked in silence, sweating under the unforgiving lights.

The waves of panic had passed, turning into a heavy rock that sat in the pit of her stomach. While Mal waited for his move, she ruminated on her bad luck. The chance of Fives being in her battalion had to have been a million to one. But here he was and now she was about to eat dinner with him. She half-listened to Jesse as he made a joke about GAR food and let out an obligatory laugh when she was supposed to, but inside, Mal was reeling.</p>

No Jedi, no medics, and especially no clones. She had that rule for cycles, and now one slip-up, fueled by alcohol and momentary passion, could undo everything. To begin with, it was unethical and unprofessional. She was already an outsider in an army of brothers. While the 104th was her family, the 501st wasn’t. They didn’t know her and she didn’t want them to make assumptions before they did. Then there was the moral failing of sleeping with her patient. She would have to care for him and now she risked her position being compromised. Any care she gave him or any of his brothers would be scrutinized to make sure she wasn’t showing favoritism, misusing resources, or wasting GAR time. The upper management of the civilian volunteer force would descend on her like a pack of danchafs. And that was if they didn’t just discharge her.

And that, she thought, as her. stomach began to turn, would be unthinkable. This was supposed to be her chance to make things right. The 501st was where she was going to find answers. But now a single mistake threatened it all.

For one weak moment, Mal wondered if there was still time to transfer back. She missed the 104th more than ever. Sinker would think this was hilarious and do that thing where he laughed so hard he snorted. Boost would roll his eyes. Mal let out a small sigh to herself. She needed that right now. She could even go for one of Crux’s lectures.

The mess hall was loud and crowded. It pulled her back to her surroundings and away from the spiral of her inner monologue. Kix checked in to make sure she was familiar. After she reassured him, he and Jesse took off for the dessert station.

She gathered her tray and got in line. Involuntarily, her eyes drifted over the soldiers, trying to find Wolffe’s scowl, even though she knew it was light years away. Instead, she found only unfamiliar, familiar faces. Protein cubes turned her stomach in a good day and today she almost retched as it was plopped onto her plate.

“Not a fan?” Tup asked, making her start. She hadn’t realized he’d followed her in line. “Can’t say they’re my favorite either.”

“I uh…” Mal grimaced as she tried to fix her face. “Yeah.”

“Look at it.” Tup poked at the jiggling block before he shot her a commiserating look. “We got real meals on Kamino. 'Bout the only thing I miss about that soggy planet. But you get used to ‘em.”

You get used to ‘em. Mal nodded. She thought about telling Tup that no matter how many GAR meals she ate, the protein cubes would always taste of metal ore to her. But she didn’t say it. She opened her mouth just to make sure she could.

Mal followed Tup over to the table where the four other clones were waiting for them. Kix and Jesse were arguing over something that sounded like a battle strategy but also could have been a drinking game. Tup sat next to Jesse, and as Mal slid onto the bench beside him, She found herself face-to-face with Fives again. He was still watching her carefully.

Her hope for answers, everything she was here to do could shatter right before her eyes. She shifted her jaw as her mind raced. She could do something. Mal had to do something.

“I’ll grab water for the table.” She put her tray down. “It’s Fives, right? Want to give me a hand?”

Fives raised an eyebrow at Mal as he hesitated, but curiosity seemed to get the better of him.

“Roger, roger.” He said as he stood, his umber eyes never leaving hers.

For a moment, she hesitated, wilting in his dark look. Something in her wanted to make him laugh just so she could hear it again. Seconds passed and Mal felt the other three watching her curiously. She spun on her heels, and the table soon turned its attention and debate quickly pick back up. Fives was hot behind her, catching up to her pace in just a few strides. A moment of silence passed as Mal waited until she was out of earshot from the table.

“I’m sorry about the greeting.” Mal’s words were hushed, falling stuttered from her lips as she made her way across the mess with the ARC trooper. “I was caught off guard.”

“That makes two of us.”

His low voice was right in her ear. Her breath hitched just a little as she realized how close he was.

She finally reached the water fountain. Mal took five cups from the stack piled on the counter and handed two of them to Fives. This gave her a moment to look at the man. He stood less than a foot away, one armored hip leaning up against the counter as he waited on her next move. Mal swallowed. He was so very close. The last time he had been this close, his lips had been pressed against her cheek. She blinked, pushing the memory away.

“I just think it’s best if we keep things professional.”

“You made that very clear.”

Fives’ voice was still low and it was becoming increasingly unfriendly. A part of her stung as she realized she never would have thought it came from the same relaxed, warm man who was in her apartment just hours ago. Focus, Mal thought to herself, You have to do this.

“I’m sorry, I don’t…” Mal started before Fives cut her off.

“Don’t worry, cyar’ika.” Fives’ tone returned to casual as he began to fill the glasses in his hands with water. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

Despite his reassuring words, she couldn’t help feeling like she’d fucked up again. His attention never left the glasses and, after he finished, he took a wide step away, giving her plenty of space to fill her three cups. Mal walked silently back to their meals, several steps behind the clone. The men at the table had seemingly settled their debate, and decided to turn their attention to her.

“So you’re from the 104th, huh? What’s Wolffe actually like?” Jesse asked as she sat back in her seat. “I bet he’s a big softie.”

“You thought Fox would be a softie and how did that turn out?” Fives scoffed at his brother as he slid him a cup of water.

“I’ll win him over yet.” Jesse grinned.

“Not with that lifetime ban from the Senate you won’t.” Kix prodded Jesse with an elbow to the side.

Jesse waved off his brothers as he turned back to her. Mal quickly began to stuff the protein cube into her mouth to avoid his questions, only retching a little at the taste.

“Were you on Khorm when he lost his eye?”

Mal coughed, choking on the gelatinous mouthful.

“Jesse, shut the fuck up,” Kix ordered.

Mal shot Kix a grateful smile as she carefully swallowed. She hadn’t spent long with Kix, but she had a feeling he didn’t take that tone with Jessie often. Jessie, for his part, suddenly found himself preoccupied with his protein cube, a slightly sheepish look on his face.

“So what planet are you from?” Tup asked, trying to find a more friendly topic.

Her stomach clenched. Another subject she wanted to avoid. Mal hadn’t considered that this new squad wouldn’t know her from Chancellor Palpatine. There was a privilege in not having to explain herself and it was gone now.

She weighed the answer for a moment.

“Takodana.” Mal finally answered truthfully.

Fives snorted. Mal’s eyes shot to him as she waited. He just shook his head. Then he paused for a moment before he lifted his eyes to hers.

“Takodana? Why do I know that name?” Fives looked at her for the first time since they had both sat down.

She held her breath for a moment. She watched as he frowned, deep in thought. While Fives was distracted, Jesse spotted an opportunity. He snatched the cake from Fives’ tray while the clone was frowning at Mal.

“Hey!” Fives swiped at air as he realized the theft.

“That’s for the caf this morning.” Jesse grinned at the ARC trooper.

Mal sighed in relief as Fives also excused himself quickly after. She watched out of the corner of her as he walked away. He didn’t look back. The conversation devolved into brotherly harassment as the boys lost all interest in grilling the new girl.

Mal stayed through the meal and long enough for Kix to give her a digital tour of the Venator med bay, but soon he released her with praise for her first day that mostly involved how well she put up with Jesse, and instructions for reporting bright and early tomorrow. The 501st was shipping out again.

It wasn’t until her apartment door slid shut behind her, Mal realized she had made it back to her apartment. It felt like a lifetime ago that she had left it. The shadows seem longer, jutting out at strange angles, like the place wasn’t quite hers anymore. She didn’t bother to turn on the light as she dragged her body across the small studio, the city offering enough of its own through the windows. Mal stripped the jumpsuit from her body and threw herself into bed, exhausted emotionally and physically. Despite the tiredness that clung to her bones, she immediately sat back up. A spicy, sweet scent of whiskey, smoke, and heady sweat invaded her nostrils. It was Fives. He was still lingering on the sheets.

She tossed for a few moments and tried to ignore it but, no matter what position she lay in, he followed her, his memory wrapped around her just as he had earlier that same day. She couldn’t escape it, no more than she could when she fumbled her greeting to him. She’d slept with one of the men she was supposed to protect, to help. Fraternization was specifically against the rules for civilians and GAR soldiers. She’d be discharged without a second thought.

On the bedside table, the small Wolfpack pin glinted in the moonlight. She would fail Wolffe, Crux, and even Tye. And, worse, she would fail the twins. She turned again, but a new wave of Fives and a memory of his arms wrapping around her suddenly was suddenly all around her.

Mal huffed and threw the blankets back. She swung her legs off the side of the bed, sitting up. Mal hung her head, letting it fall to her palms for a moment. Too tired to change the sheets, she pulled her duvet behind her as she dragged herself to the chair.

The nightmares came again that night.

Mal’s words were a bucket of ice down his spine. Cold and formal. He scanned her face but there was no hint of recognition. Fives reeled. For a moment, he teetered on the edge of calling her out. Nice to meet you? Did my dick give you amnesia? But then he thought about his vode. He didn’t need them to see this rejection. No, for all they knew he had a one-night stand who he left breathless and reeling and totally in love with him. He was going to keep it that way. For now.

“Likewise.” He finally settled on the curt reply.

“Come on,” Kix pushed forward, his mind on food as usual. “I’m starving.”

He watched her from the corner of his eye. She was laughing at something Jessie had said, but he could see that she was watching him too. Probably scared he was going to air her dirty little secret. Tup noticed something was wrong right away. He shot Fives a look as they were swept up in the mess hall crowd. A wordless conversation passed between them. A look of concern. A shrug of unconcern. An eyebrow of skepticism. A smile of reassurance.

Relax, Fives reminded himself. Time to watch and see how this plays out. Think like an ARC.

He piled his tray with fortified protein and settled into the table with his friends but no sooner than he had sat down, his eyes found her again.

Mal trailed behind Tup. She shifted as she walked. A wiggle of her fingers, a soft clench and unclench of her jaw, a slight roll of her neck. It was like she was taking roll call of her body. A red curl escaped her hair tie and hung down over her eyes. She glanced at it and huffed, blowing it to the side. She glared at the errant lock as it fell back into her face, the dusting of freckles on her nose wrinkling. Tup led her to their table, sliding in next to Jesse, leaving enough room for Mal next to him, and right across from Fives.

She didn’t seem to realize where she was sitting until she was almost at his eye level. Finally, her jeweled orbs met his. Mal blinked as she stared at him for a moment. He tried to hold her emerald stare. Why, he wasn’t sure.

“I’m going to go grab water for the table.” She quickly announced to the table before she turned back to him. “It’s Fives, right? Want to give me a hand?”

The hesitancy was a nice touch. Smart. Fives raised an eyebrow as he considered her invitation. Half of him wanted to reject her immediately, but he wanted to see where this was going.

“Roger, roger.” He rose, stepping over the bench to follow her.

Fives trailed behind her, watching as other clones turned, sometimes slowly and others obviously, and elbowed each other when they took notice of her. He couldn’t blame them, but a frown still snuck across his face. The gray jumpsuit with its long blue stripes along the seams swallowed up most civilian medics, but hers gently hugged her curves, showing the lines of her body that he had traced just hours ago. Luckily, before his mind could wander too far, Mal tilted her face up towards him. She had waited until they were out of earshot of the table.

“I’m sorry about the greeting.” Her voice was quiet. Something about that irritated him even more. There wasn’t even anyone else around and she was still scared of being noticed with him. “I was caught off guard.”

“That makes two of us.” Fives thought it was a measured response.

“I just think it’s best if we keep things professional.”

She wasn’t wrong. Fraternizing with civilian members of the GAR was strictly forbidden. He didn’t think Rex would care, and Skywalker… well that was a more unpredictable reaction, but he suspected the General would look the other way. Clones trapped under lesser Jedi would be at risk of reassignment or worse. Still, that didn’t excuse her and Fives pulled no punches with his tone.

“You made that very clear.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t…” She started.

Mal shifted under his blazing look. Fives decided that, whatever was coming next, he wasn’t going to hear it. She didn’t get to apologize to him. He didn't want it and he didn't need it.

“Don’t worry, cyar’ika.” Fives kept his voice as even as he could as he turned to start filling up water glasses. “Your secret is safe with me.”

He turned back to the table, spilling water over his hands in the rush. He told himself to slow down. Breathe. He wasn’t going to let her ruin his mood. Ruin this day. Fuck that and fuck her.

He could sense Mal as she scurried behind him, trying to keep up with his long steps. They rejoined the table. Fives debated moving down next to Tup. He looked up at her again and she wilted under his stare. No, he decided. He was going to have to get used to this. His vode started in on her as soon as they got back to the table. Fives felt a flare of annoyance.

“So you’re from the 104th? What’s Wolffe actually like?” Jesse jumped at the new girl. “I bet he’s actually a big softie.”

Fives snorted at Jesse, half-tempted to throw his water to him instead of pass it.

“You thought Fox would be a softie and how did that turn out?” Fives rolled his eyes.

It was only last month that Fives had to go get Jesse from the base prison. Fox had glared out at him under hooded eyes, and stood still with crossed arms as Fives tried to bargain for Jesse’s release. He knew that Fox knew that Fives had been involved with the plot to steal the Corrie Guard’s mastiff for the night, but that, unlike Jesse, they hadn’t been able to catch him. Eventually, Fox wordlessly punched a fist into a button, releasing Jesse from his cell, and then, with a single pointed finger, directed them both out of the brig. Fives wasn’t looking forward to the next time their paths crossed.

“I’ll win him over yet.” Jesse grinned, undeterred by the same memory.

“Not with that lifetime ban from all Senate buildings you won’t.” Kix prodded him with an elbow to the side.

Fives shook his head. He thought they had gotten away with their failed prank as they crawled back into their bunks, trying to get an hour of sleep before roll call. His eyes had just started to drift closed when Rex burst into the barracks, erupting and swinging his datapad at them. Somewhere in the scramble away from his momentarily deranged captain, he learned that Rex had woken up to several colorful messages informing him that Fox had banned Fives and Jesse from all Coruscant Guard-held spaces for life. It had taken twenty minutes and the promise of latrine duty for two weeks to soothe the Captain.

“Were you on Khorm when he lost his eye?”

“Jesse, shut the fuck up.” Kix snapped in a warning tone he rarely took with Jesse. Fives’ eyes flashed to Kix. Interesting. He was protective of his new medic already.

“What planet are you from?” Tup said mildly, carefully changing the subject.

“Takodana.”

Fives snorted. A hick from a rural backwater planet. Then he heard it. Takodana. Fives’ spine stiffened at a memory he couldn’t quite grasp. That sounded familiar. He knew a lot of planets at this point. Ones he’d been to and ones he hadn’t. But there was something about that name that tugged on some recollection or information buried somewhere deep in his databanks of training.

“Takodana? Why do I know that name?” Fives finally let his eyes meet hers again.

Her beryl eyes widened and he watched as a flash of fear rippled across her face. It was gone in the next second. He might have even imagined it. He wanted to dwell on it, to hold the moment and tear it open until he understood, but a motion from the corner of his eye caught his attention.

“Hey!” He said, as Jesse snatched his cake from his tray.

Fives tried to swipe out to grab it but it was too late. His vod planted his fork into the stolen dessert.

“That’s for the caf this morning.” Jesse stuck his tongue out at Fives with a victorious wink.

Fives shook his head at Jesse and waved his hand in surrender.

“Savor it, vod.” He forced a laugh as he stood. “See you all later.”

Leaving the suffocating din of the mess hall behind, Fives followed a familiar path to Rex’s office. The durasteel hallways were empty while everyone was at dinner, and the only sound was the rhythmic echo of his boots against the floor. Usually, Fives appreciated these quiet moments alone. He loved his brothers, and he knew he could be as loud as any of them, but moments where he could hear himself think were precious and far apart when in an army of millions. There was nothing solitary about this moment, though. His thoughts marched beside him, louder than the clang of his footsteps, with memories as all-consuming as the vacuum of space. It wasn’t until Fives reached Rex’s door that he snapped out of the deep trance. There were voices on the other side.

The blast door slid open just as Fives raised his hand to knock. He stepped back to let General Skywalker and General Kenobi walk out.

“Hello there, Fives,” Kenobi greeted him as Anakin nodded.

“Evening, Generals.” He saluted the Jedi. “Commander Tano.”

The Togruta followed behind the Masters, buzzing with an excitement that Fives knew could only mean a new mission.

“Be nice to Rex,” Ahsoka winked at Fives and he felt his icy mood melt just a little. Ahsoka’s good moods were infectious around the 501st. When she was happy, they all tended to be. “He just spent two hours trying to rein in Skyguy's battle plans.”

Her master shot a look of annoyance at the padawan and the clone before he chuckled and shrugged.

“She’s not wrong.” Anakin flashed a brazen grin at the ARC trooper.

“I’m shocked, General.” Fives smiled back before he turned to Ahsoka with a wink of his own. “And when have I ever been mean to Rex?”

All three Jedi laughed at that.

“Have a good evening, Fives.” Anakin bowed his head before the three Jedi turned back to their journey, likely back to the Temple.

“You too, Sirs.”

Fives stepped into the dark office space. Rex sat at his desk, massaging his temples, as he frowned at a holomap glowing in the dim light.

“Tano and Kenobi act like Skywalker’s the crazy one, but they’re all just as bad.” Rex groaned, not looking up at Fives.

“We’ll make the most of their plans and take whatever the Seppies throw at us.” Fives settled into one of the chairs across from Rex. “You know that, Captain.”

“Of course,” Rex pressed his thumb to a button on his desk, and the holomap disappeared. The lights returned to the room, and he leaned back into his chair, taking on the quiet calm that came from being alone with an old friend.

“How’d the debrief with the council go yesterday?” Fives asked. He didn’t want Rex to think he rushed in here to ask about Mal.

“As well as expected,” Rex grumbled. “Most were supportive. A couple of them tried to press me. Didn’t got over well with me or General Skywalker though.”

“We saved the galaxy from one of Dooku’s pawns, and there's Jedi out there pushing back against us?”

“Just a one or two. General Billaba had some hard questions.”

“Billaba's been out of the fight too long. I know she went through it after Haruun Kal, but to be questioning us? That's kark, sir.” Fives crossed his arms. "She just got that seat back anyways."

“They’re allowed to ask questions. It was certainly a… unique situation.”

“Well, if you need someone to take out another Jedi…”

“That’s not funny, Fives. You’re just dying to get that court martial.”

“I was going to suggest Tup.” Fives wiggled his brows.

“Di’kut.” Rex muttered under his breath as his eyes shot upward.

Fives chuckled, enjoying the little victory of pulling an eye roll from Rex.

“The briefing’s not why you’re here, though.” Rex’s serious look melted into a wry smile. “What’s on your mind, Fives?”

Fives sighed. He never could keep anything from Rex. Maybe it was because they were brothers, or maybe it was because Rex had known him since he was a shiny on his first mission. Sometimes, he suspected it was because he was similar to Rex in ways the older clone would never admit. Whatever it was, Rex could tell he wasn’t just in his office for a nightcap.

“The new medic… what’s her deal?” Fives asked, hoping his voice was more neutral than he felt.

“Amal Darroch?” Rex raised an eyebrow at him. “Comes highly decorated and recommended from the 104th. Took everything I had to pry her from Wolffe.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, he hung up on me the first three times I asked.” Rex chuckled to himself. Fives sometimes forgot that Rex was a younger brother too.

“We need medics that bad?” Fives frowned.

“Not just medics. We need the best medics.” Then Rex eyed the arc trooper. “Come on, you know that better than anyone. Kix is ready to ban you from the medbay.”

Fives tried to smile at the joke but found it refused to come. Instead, he kept thinking about Mal.

“And she’s the best?”

“What’s on your mind, Fives?” Rex repeated. “You’re usually not this shy about sharing.”

“Dunno…” She’s hiding something. Maybe multiple things. He wanted to shout it, grab Rex by the shoulders and shake him until he could see what Fives saw, but instead, he hesitated. They did need medics, and they needed good ones. If she was that good, his brothers would be better off with her around. “Just have some questions about her, is all.”

“Well, I’m here if you need anything.” Rex reached for his datapad, sensing the conversation was over. “Just try not to kill her or kriff her.”

Fives finally forced a laugh as he stood with a small salute.

“Roger, roger.”

Fives shut the door behind him, leaving Rex to his plans. The silent hallways that lined his path back to the barracks were even louder on his return route. Mal’s face swam before him. A flash of her laugh and the parting of her full lips melted into the image of her stoic greeting. And if she was hiding this, what else was she hiding? Why did a civilian join the war when most of them prefered to stay safe on their cities and planets far from the battle lines? What game was she playing here? This wasn’t a game to him. This was his life and his brothers’ lives. He thought of how she shifted in her seat at the mention of Takodana. There was no doubt about it. Mal was hiding more than just their night together, and Fives would have to keep an eye on her until he found out what it was.

…

Her paddle sliced through the inky glass of the water with the precision of a beskar blade. She quickly lifted the wooden tool, letting the canoe propel forward with the smallest wake. Despite the exactness of her strokes, Mal never looked down. Instead, she frowned at the horizon. It was dark and the air still held the wet chill of the night before it turns to dew, but the midnight blue at the very edges of the sky had started to pale, a sure sign that she had stayed too long. She wasn’t late. Not yet. But she paddled with a speed that she hadn’t practiced in a long time. Her shoulders ached, muscles that had long been forgotten in the mines, called out in protest of her neglect but she never winced or paused.

She stepped out into the shallows without a splash and pulled the boat into the overgrown shore where she covered it in the browning large leaves and the ivy, damp from yesterday’s rain. Mal wiped the soil on her palms along the edges of her poncho before she reached a hand into the bag at her side. She felt the delicate petals of the nysillin and finally let her shoulders fall from her ears.

The path was overgrown, disused in the last year since the Mining Guild came, but she knew it by heart. Her feet led on as she scanned the dark underbrush, one hand on her blaster and the other one on her bag.

She’d only made a few steps into the dark woods when a sound made her stop. Someone or something had coughed. In a flash, she pulled her blaster from her hip, gripping it at the ready as she scanned the trees.

“How did I know I’d find you still here?”

Her eyes finally landed on the source of the sound. Leaning against a large oak a few yards up the path was a tall man, his muscled arms crossed in front of his broad chest, cutting a stern profile in the shadow of the woods. Her eyes focused on the shape and, in the last throes of starlight, she began to make out a familiar profile.

“Couldn’t help me with the boat, huh?” Mal raised an eyebrow as she lowered her blaster.

“As I recall, last time I tried to help you with the boat, you hit me with an oar.” The sandy-haired man gave a small sideways smile and for a brief moment, she recognized the boy she grew up with.

She snorted, “I forgot about that.” She watched the smile evaporate from his face and the boy she knew was gone and replaced with a soldier. Before she could wonder if he something similar had passed through his mind, she let her eyes fall to her side as she lowered her weapon. “I could have shot you.”

“You probably should’ve.” Niall’s tone was suddenly stern. “But you’re still too slow on the trigger.”

“I’m cautious,” she bit back. Mal walked past the shadow.

“Not cautious enough. What are you still doing out here?”

Mal sighed, stopping to let him catch up to her. They walked side-by-side but they both carefully watched the woods around them as they went, blasters still drawn.

“Which one?” Even though she knew the answer.

“Talon, of course.” Niall tutted, knowing she knew.

“He shouldn’t have worried you.”

“What if Aavia was out here? You know she senses these things. She wouldn’t think twice before killing you and your brothers just for fun.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Mal snapped. “She’s not even planet side. I checked.”

“Still a risk.”

“I needed nysillin.” She stopped short as a tree swayed, but it was only the wind. “Maz hasn’t been able to get anything through the blockade in weeks.”

“Well that’s up to me to worry about.” Niall turned to her and reached out. He gripped her shoulders a little too hard. “Mal, your Da told me to keep you out of this fight.”

“That’s not his decision anymore, is it?” She took a step back as she shrugged.

The step back became a step forward and then another until she fell through the familiar wood doorway.

A pair of green eyes met her. Taron was sitting at the table with his blaster trained at the door. She didn’t have time to wonder where Cadex was. The door shut behind her and she knew if she turned, the other twin would be behind with his own blaster.

“You’re late.” Taron snapped with all the angst of a teenager as Cadex threw the bolt with a click.

Mal tossed the nysillin on the table before she sprang forward to take advantage of her sitting brother. She ran a hand through his hair, something that always drove him crazy, but was much harder now that he was taller than her.

Talon scoffed and quickly flattened his red locks back down.

“Stop, you’re so annoying.” Talon huffed.

“That was stupid.” Cadex frowned, circling around the table to lecture her. “You cut it too close.”

Mal knew it wouldn’t help his mood, but she smiled as Cadex crossed his arms. He was doing his best impression of Jonan Darroch, even if he didn’t realize it.

“Okay, Da.” she giggled.

Mal blinked and then started, laughter dying in her lips.

Where Cadex had been standing, Jonan Darroch now stood. Where their house had been, the town center had filled in the gaps, leaking through the floorboards like quicksand, pulling their house down to reveal only gray stone and boarded-up shops. Mal knew what came next. A red lightsaber already glowed in her Da's belly.

“You were supposed to protect them.” Da’s voice filled the square and echoed off the cobblestone as it filled her ears, his face contorting as his last breath twisted his words into a piercing shriek.

Jonan Darroch, a tall blue woman stepped out, letting the man collapse to the ground as she drew back her blade. Mal watched as her Da crumbled, lifeless. She tried to run to him, to scream for help, but she found herself frozen. Again.

Aavia smirked, her red eyes sparkling with a cruel mirth. Behind her, the twins stood still, arms behind their backs. She forgot how much taller Talon was now. When she looked up at him, she could see the emerald lodes running out from his dark pupils.

Not irises. Veins. She could see the veins of the leaves, even on the gray day. Rivers of water ran along its creased center and fell off in heavy droplets onto her face. Aavia’s gleeful voice cut the patter of the rain.

“And you called me a murderer.”

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mrs2224 · 1 year

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Woof Woof! 🐺🖤

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toomanybandstocare · 11 months

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{Wolffegirlsunite's Polaroid Album}

[ ◉¯] ✧˖° - Polaroid Album

Mood board of a character and situation of your request. @wolffegirlsunite requested a sweet piece of fluff with a bakery setting, and I think about this pairing SO often. Thank you for celebrating with me! <3

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x Baker, GN! Reader

Counselor Notes: They live in my mind rent free. Grumpy and sunshine...I'm sobbing I love them.

-> Celebration Announcement Post <-

-> Celebration Masterlist <-

-> Camp Resolute Masterlist <-

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imabeautifulbutterfly · 2 years

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Moving On - Part 10

Summary: Wolffe and Jirli welcome a new member to their family.

A/N: Hello Lovelies,

Okay I haven’t had a chance to start working on The Reunion for this week, as some of you know I’m back to full time work, so instead I finished up this piece I was working on.

A while back I had mentioned that I may do a final part to Moving On and after discussing it with @darkangel4121 I realized I definitely needed to finish this story. So here is the final part.

This family was so sweet, young Boba, young Din, Wolffe, Jirli, Boost, Sinker, Plo, ahhhh. I just love this story so much. I’m glad to finally be able to give it a proper ending.

Please know I am not a medical professional, I did research on any medical situation mentioned, it may not be accurate. Please consult a physician or medical professional if you have concerns regarding your health or family’s health.

Thank you to @firstofficerwiggles and @ladykatakuri for beta reading and putting up with my nonsense. LOVE OO.

Thank you all for showing my stories so much love. LOVE OO.

Italics and Indented - Jirli’s hearing

Warning: Pregnancy, teasing, flirting, innuendo, accidentally calling someone fat without saying fat, bantering, bickering, mentions of labour, issues with labour, concerns about baby’s health, mentions of blood, mentions of surgery, caesarean section, worry, fear, crying, anger, angst and fluff, kissing, I think that’s all of it, if I miss any please let me know.

AO3 LINK (MOVING ON) | WORDS: 7,771

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BEC’IKA

WOLFFE POV

“If Boost comms me one more time if you’ve had the baby yet, I’m going to kill him!”

“Rekr’ika” (Little Wolf/Wolfie) Jirli’s eyes looked at me with love and admiration as she rubbed her swollen belly, while she sat on the couch with her feet resting on the caf table, while Din and Boba were busy in the kitchen making her a ‘special snack’ that was supposed to help their sister grow or have special powers or something. They basically went on a ramble about Jedi powers and what not.

“Yes, love?” I placed a kiss on her temple, as I leaned over the back of the couch, my hand resting on her shoulder. She looked amazing, despite how tired and irritated she had been lately, we all were doing our best to help her in whatever way possible.

“You love the fact the Boost is comming ever second, especially since he started dating.”

I smirked at her statement, “Alright, you may have a point. May.” I held up my forefinger, “However, I should still be allowed to vent about my irritating little brother.”

“Mmhmm” she smirked as her hand held my forefinger as she shifted a little, wincing and gritting her teeth. Though she tried to hide her discomfort from me, I could read her like a book now.

“You okay? And please love, don’t try and lie to me” I smirked as I watched her.

She let out a sigh, as she eased herself into the sofa,“Yeah, she’s playing on my bladder. Feels like she’s doing tumbles in there.”

I chuckled, placing my hand on her belly, “Bec’ika (little pup), you need to stop hurting your buir” I leaned in closer, lowering my voice, “Otherwise, I’m the one who suffers.”

“Hey” she smacked my chest with the back of her hand, a playful light tap she would often use on me, “don’t tell her that, she’ll think I’m mean”

I took her hand placing a kiss on her palm, “No she won’t, plus she knows I’m kidding. Right, bec’ika?” I felt a tiny thump against my palm, “See, she knows”

“At least she listens to one of us”

“It’s my soothing, deep, rich tones riduur. She loves the sound of my voice” I leaned closer to Jirli’s lips, “Just like you do, when we’re alone.”

“Well, what can I say? My little girl is right to love your voice, after all like you said she’s not the only one” she smiled as she placed a kiss on my lips, “now” she pulled back smirking, “would you and your soothing, deep, rich tones please come over here and help me off the couch, so I can use the refresher?” She held up her hands grabbing the empty space in front of her, till I stood in front, taking her hands in mine.

“Yes, mesh’la” I chuckled, as I helped her stand. She shifted around the couch, till she was standing beside me, she was tittering on her feet, her belly was looking quite large, there was a very real and present fear that she could topple over, “Are you sure, you only got one kid in there?” As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I knew I screwed up.

Jirli turned to look at me, her hand squeezing mine, “What did you just say?” She tilted her head narrowing her eyes.

“Well … I mean …”

“Need I remind you, whose fault it is, that I am in this situation?” She quirked her eyebrow.

“Well I mean, it does take two” I held up two fingers to emphasize my point, “To dance, you know?”

“Oh, I see. So, you’re saying it’s my fault, that I’m so fat?”

“Th-those ….” I cleared my throat, “Those words never left mouth love.” I was praying to anything and everything to get me out of this situation, ‘Come on beb’icka, start jumping on your mom’s bladder so she has to leave’

“Then what are you saying?”

I took a minute to steady my nerves, “What I’m saying is you look beautiful”

“Mmhmm”

“I’m in trouble aren’t I?”

“Oh soooo much” she rolled her eyes, smirking at me “But, I have no doubt you’ll make it up to me.”

I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her closer to me, I lowered my voice, “Anything you’d like me to do for you?” I wiggled my eyebrows, she wrapped her arms around my neck, smirking.

“Oh definitely! I have a list of things, I need you to do for me” she rested her forefinger under my chin.

“Oh” I squeezed her waist, smirking.

“Mmhmm. First, the laundry needs to be done. Then, you need to help Din with his homework. After that, the floors need to be cleaned. The top floor needs a thorough cleaning, and once that’s all done, I may have a need for you to help me later on tonight” she flicked my chin, before she smirked as she headed to the refresher.

“Maker, I love you”

“I know you do, and if my daughter wasn’t using my bladder as a drum for her amusement, I would stand here all day explaining all the different ways you can assist me, however … nature calls, excuse me.”

I watched as she waddled towards the refresher, my poor sweet Jirli, if only I could carry this burden for you. I walked into the kitchen, going over the list she gave me after she left my side. The silence coming from the kitchen however was unnerving me, knowing those two, when silence filled between them nothing good was happening. I was determined, as I took my steps to see what Din and Boba were up to, hopefully, I wouldn’t be entering a chaotic mess from their decision to ‘prepare snacks.’

“Alright boys, what’s going on?” I asked walking in on Boba and Din and the mess covering all the kitchen counters, not to mention they both had a look that said more than their mouths ever could.

“We made mom a snack.”

Boba held up the dish of various fruits, roughly cut, and leaking juice all over the plate, a small amount dripping on to the floor, with one of the biggest smiles on his lips, Din with a matching smile on his face. I looked at the plate, watching as the juice soaked everything on the plate, the cheese that was cut haphazardly was lying in a pool of some sort of pink juice. Beside the cheese were her favourite crackers, now soggy from a weird yellowish-pink juice. Din somehow was covered in fruit juice, and for some reason which I couldn’t even begin to fathom, there were crackers in his hair. Boba on the other hand had cheese on his face and juice dripping down his chin, along with a weird paste smeared on his forehead.

I tried really hard not to laugh, as comical as they looked, the plate of food looked even more ridiculous as everything sloshed around with each movement of Boba’s hands. I cleared my throat, doing my best to swallow the smirk and laugh.

“I have no doubt she will love it, why don’t you boys serve that to her, and I’ll get dinner going. Okay.” I watched as they headed towards the common room, “Oh and why not stand there and make sure she eats it. You know your buir is going to need her strength” how I got that sentence out without bursting out laughing was beyond me, however, I couldn’t wait to see her reaction.

- - - - - - - - - -

JIRLI POV

Sitting back on the couch wasn’t as bad as getting up from it, I wonder if maybe that’s why my back was throbbing now, as comfortable and lovely as this couch has been for Wolffe, Boba, Din and I, it truly did not have the back support a pregnant woman needed.

“Buir!”

I looked to my two boys, they held out a plate of what looked like mush, “Oh! That’s … what’s that?” I tried hard not to laugh, rubbing my belly as I felt another throbbing pain, doing my best not to show my discomfort.

“We made you a plate of snacks for you.” Boba beamed proudly as he handed me the dish.

“We cut up all your favourites” Din added, “See here’s some jogan, and shuura, and muja fruit. We also cut up some cheese for you.”

“Right, this is bantha cheese, cut up in the shape of a bantha” I stifled the laugh at the shape that looked anything but a bantha, “This is also nerf cheese, cut in the shape of a nerf. There’s your favourite crackers too.” Boba pointed out every item as he described it, incredibly proud with himself and Din for what they had accomplished, which only made my heart swell to know they loved me as much as they did.

The crackers that used to have the most perfect crunch and flakiness to them, was a bunch of mush now. Regardless of how much of a mess the plate looked like, I appreciated the sentiment behind it.

I took the plate, placing it on the table in front of me, “Thank you boys, that’s so sweet of both my little itco’rkasih (dumplings), come and give me a hug” they both wrapped their arms around me, squeezing as hard as they could. “Alright, don’t squeeze too hard, you’ll pop out your little sister.”

“When is she getting here?” Din asked pressing his ear to my belly.

“Soon”

“How soon?” Boba asked resting his hand on my belly.

“Probably another week or two”

“Can’t wait. I’m gonna show her all the new stances I’m learning” Din stood demonstrating his moves, “See, she’ll be the best fighter, because I’m going to teach her. I’ll even show her how to use her blaster and knife probably.”

“Nuh-uh, I’m the best fighter” Boba went and stood beside Din, showing off his stances, it was cute and adorable, “If anyone is going to teach our vod’ika, it’ll be me.”

“Buir?” Din stopped his movements watching me carefully, “Why aren’t you eating?”

“Hmmm?” I really tried to pretend not to hear his question, as I watched Boba fight an invisible attacker, which only made him stop and turn to look at me.

“Buir said that we needed to stay here and make sure you ate. He said you need all your strength.”

“Oh he did, did he?” I should’ve know Wolffe had something up his sleeve, oh I couldn’t wait to make that man pay.

Din’s eyes widened as a puppy like expression appeared on his face, I swore they took more and more after Wolffe every day, “Do you not like it?”

“Of course, I do, love” I grabbed a piece of the soggy cheese, and put it in my mouth, doing my best not to gag as it slowly slid down my throat, the unusual texture and flavours throwing me for a loop, “Mmmm that is so good, thank you” I did my best to suppress the cough that was itching to come out.

“You need to eat more” Boba stated, now his face holding the same puppy like expression. “Especially for our vod’ika”

“Oh, I shall. It’s just …” sorry, sweetie but mom’s about to throw you under the speeder, I cleared my throat hoping that soggy cheese would just moved down my esophagus, “I think your vod’ika is needing something more substantial, especially since we’re eating soon.”

“Oh love, you don’t have to worry about that” Wolffe popped up beside me, leaning over the back of the couch, with a spoon in his hand, smirking, “It’s going to be at least an hour or two before we eat, so go on mesh’la, have some more of your snack.”

I placed a kiss on his cheek as I placed my hand on his pretending to take the spoon, taking the opportunity to whisper as quietly as I could to Wolffe, “I’m gonna make you pay for this.”

Wolffe simply smiled, “Mesh’la, I look forward to being punished by you”

I simply smirked at his little statement, grabbing the spoon, “You know” I turned from Wolffe to Boba and Din, “I feel absolutely guilty, knowing your buir is working hard in the kitchen without any sort of snack. Is it okay if I share this with him, I think it’ll be too much for the baby and me to eat. Is that okay?”

Din smiled nodding enthusiastically, “Yes, buir have some it’s really good.”

“Oh” Wolffe stammered, “I wouldn’t want to deprive our ad’ika”

“Nonsense, there’s plenty” I smirked, scooping up a pile of mushy crackers, juice, and soggy cheese. “Here you go sweetie, open up” I moved the spoon closer to his mouth, as he looked at me, narrowing his eyes. “Come on, the boys worked really hard on this, after all they cut the bantha cheese in the shape of a bantha and it tastes so good” I bit the inside of my cheek keeping me from laughing, as I gave him my best heart eyes.

“Come on Cabur” Boba chimed in, “We worked really hard on it.”

I could see Wolffe’s throat bobbing up and down, before he finally nodded, opening his mouth taking the whole spoon in without a second thought. He pulled the spoon slowly out of his mouth, chewing slowly and carefully, before he swallowed it completely. I could see him struggling to keep it down, before he smirked and smiled at the boys.

“Awesome job, boys. However, let’s let your buir rest, and come help me in the kitchen, we gotta clean and get things ready for dinner, come on.”

Boba and Din stopped their sparring and headed to the kitchen, Wolffe took the plate from my hand, smirking at me the entire time, “Cyar’ika”

“Hmmm” I tried to put on the most innocent face I could.

“You are in so much trouble”

“Hey you started it”

He pressed a kiss to my forehead, smiling, “Alright, you won this round. Don’t get use to it, love.”

I nodded against his lips smiling, “The fact you think you can win is adorable”

Wolffe pulled away, clearly fighting back a laugh, “I think I’ve won plenty of times my dear” he winked before he headed back to the kitchen. Once he left there was a sharp pain in my lower back, it didn’t last long, but it was intense in that moment. There was an intense pressure at first, that slowly eased. I stood up from the couch, trying to ease the pain.

Thankfully it didn’t last long, and before I knew it Wolffe came calling me in for dinner.

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

WOLFFE POV

Jirli wasn’t feeling all afternoon, it made me concerned, maybe I shouldn’t have made her try to eat that snack the boys made. Maybe it didn’t sit right in her stomach, or maybe the baby was more sensitive to certain foods, now that she was very close to being born.

“Cabur?”

“Yeah Boba?” I looked over my shoulder as I washed the dishes after dinner, while he helped me dry them, Din was busy cleaning the table and the floor.

“Is buir okay?”

“Yeah, she’s just not feeling the greatest”

“Is it because of the snack we made?”

“No buddy” I bumped his shoulder, “Sometimes when mom’s are about ready to give birth, they tend to feel a little up and down. It’s not the snack, buddy. It’s just her body preparing.”

“Okay” Although Boba seemed to agree, he wasn’t exactly relieved.

“Do you believe me?” I handed him the dish I finished washing as I cleaned up the sink, before turning off the water.

“I do”

“Then, what’s wrong?” Boba shrugged, Din came and stood beside us with a similar expression of worry, “Alright boys, let’s sit down at the table and talk okay?” They both simply nodded as they took a seat. “What don’t you boys tell me what’s troubling you?” I asked as I pulled out my chair.

Neither of them said anything at first, Boba clenched and unclenched his fists, Din was picking on some imaginary speck of dust on the table. I learned from Jirli the best thing to do is to wait to let the boys speak, no matter how long it took. “I’m going to make some tea, your buir, ba’buir (grandfather) Plo and ba’vodu (uncle) Kenobi always says there’s nothing that can’t be resolved over a cup of tea.”

We sat there keeping focused on our teas when Boba finally spoke first, “Will buir be in a lot of pain?”

“When?”

“When our vod’ika comes?” Din added

I took a sip before I decided to answer them, “It depends, every one who goes into labour, handles it differently. You have to remember that regardless your buir is a very strong woman.”

“What if she doesn’t like us?” Din mumbled through his cup, “What if she hates us?”

“Can I ask you something?” They both nodded, “You haven’t met her yet, do you like her?”

“Yeah”

“Definitely, but we’re not from the same blood” Boba offered.

“Just as much as you two love her, she will love you just as much. She may express it differently, but she’ll love you, because you’re her vode (siblings). Always remember, aliit ori'shya tal'din (family is more than bloodline), you will be always aliit (family), and your buir and I will love you both and any new adike (little ones) we welcome to rai (our) aliit the same. To us, you are all our children, and we love you all equally. Okay?” They both nodded in agreement, I reached out holding each of their hands, “Anything else you guys want to talk about?”

“How are babies made?” Din asked turning to look at me.

I blinked a few times, having the words played over in my head, I cleared my throat, just as I was about to answer, Jirli’s voice came screaming from our room.

“WOLFFE!!!!!”

The three of us looked from one to the other before I rushed up the steps, Boba and Din following close behind, as I ran into the room, she was lying on our bed, her face was all sweaty, she was panting, her hand was bracing her lower back, “Mesh’la what’s wrong?” I rushed to her side, she gripped my hand with the strength of ten Trandoshians, it was a good thing I was sitting on the bed, she easily could have brought me to my knees.

“The baby … she’s …” She squeezed my hand again, as she let out a breath, “She’s coming”

“Coming? What do you mean she’s coming?” The grip she had on my hand tightened, nearly making me fall off the bed.

“Are you seriously asking me!”

“Oh! She’s coming! As in now?”

Jirli turned and narrowed her eyes at me, somehow her pain subsided during the moment her anger blared looking at me “No, she sent an engraved invitation announcing she’d be arriving. You don’t see it because I was instructed to burn it right after reading it.” Her jaw clenched as her hand tightened on mine.

“Right, sorry.”

“Buir?”

I looked over to Din, he looked worried, Boba had his arm wrapped around Din’s shoulder, “She’s okay boys, listen call your ba’vodu Boost and ask him to come watch you guys, I’m going to take your buir to the hospital.”

“On it” Boba grabbed Din’s hand and rushed out of the room.

“Okay babe, wrap your arms around me”

“Wolffe … are … are you sure?”

“Definitely, let’s get you to the hospital” She nodded as tears streamed down her cheek, she wrapped her arms around me, squeezing, I could feel her fear, “Babe, it’s okay, we’re going to be okay, she’s going to be okay, and so are you.” I placed a kiss on her forehead, she took in a deep breath, relaxing her grip a little, as I picked her up in my arms.

Before long, Boost was standing there with the boys, as I placed Jirli in the speeder, “Boost, I’ll comm you once she’s in a room”

“Don’t worry about us, focus on your riduur. We’ll bring her overnight bag. Just comm when you get there and let us know when you need us to head over.”

“Thank you vod, contact Plo’buir, Anakin, Sinker …”

“Wolffe, shut up and get in the speeder!”

“Okay, I’m going. I’m just saying, don’t …”

“WOLFFE!” Jirli’s voice cut over the sound of passing speeders, and our voices, I turned to look at her, “WOLFFE GET YOUR ASS IN THIS SPEEDER RIGHT NOW OR I SWEAR I’M NEVER LETTING YOU NEAR ME AGAIN!!”

I didn’t need to think twice, I rushed to the driver’s side and rushed my cyar’ika to the hospital.

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

BOOST POV

If I hadn’t been on that platform, I would never have believed it. The moment Jirli raised her voice at Wolffe, he somehow became the most submissive man in the world. If he had a tail, it would have wagged left and right in a slow droopy manner. It took Boba and Din shaking my hand, to realize I had been standing there watching their speeder get smaller and smaller with a gapped mouth open.

“Ba’vodu Boost”

“Yeah, Boba?” I was busy tidying up the house a little, knowing my vod’ika she would freak if she saw the mess in the living room when she came home, “Shouldn’t we be going to the hospital?”

“We will” I stood, picking up wrappers from some sort of snack that had gotten stuck under the couch, “but it takes time for a baby to be born, so let’s do something your mom we’ll really appreciate when she comes home. It’ll be a surprise present for her, what do you guys think?”

Boba and Din nodded, “You’re sure it’ll take a while?” Din asked tilting his head.

“Definitely. We can head over to the hospital in a few hours, once we know the baby is on it’s way. However, let’s get the house cleaned, it’ll be one less thing for your mom and dad to worry about when they come back. Sounds good?”

They nodded in unison, at that moment I’d never been prouder of my nephews than seeing them roll up their sleeves, grabbing the cleaning supplies, and without so much as another word they began cleaning, and not a light clean a deep clean. Definitely, a habit they developed from Jirli, whenever she was stressed or concerned out came the cleaning supplies.

While they cleaned, I glanced at the comm message I received from Wolffe when they arrived at the hospital, ‘Keep the boys there. The baby isn’t in the right position. They’re hoping she’ll adjust herself. They’re monitoring the situation very carefully. However, if she doesn’t end up facing the right way, they may have to do surgery. I don’t want the boys to freak out, so for now keep them busy. I’ll message in an hour or two to let you know where we’re at.’

I looked from the comm to Boba and Din who were busy laughing and joking while they cleaned, excited to welcome their new vod’ika. I headed off to the kitchen sending a message to the family, letting everyone know what was happening. Hoping and praying that everything was going well for them.

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

WOLFFE POV

Dr. Natuspri examined and re-examined the scan, we had been there for nearly three hours, Jirli was having some difficulty breathing, but she was still her feisty self. At that moment, she reminded me so much of Plo’buir, keeping a calm exterior, trying her best to help keep me calm.

“Anything?” She let out exasperated by the silence filling the room.

Dr. Natuspri let out a deep sigh, she put the scan down, looking at the two of us, “I don’t think we can wait any more, her oxygen levels are beginning to dip, I don’t want to risk it. We’re going to perform a C Section. Wolffe, a C Section can be intense for some, do you think you’d be comfortable enough to sit with Jirli during the operation?”

“I can sit with her in the surgery room?”

“Yes, she’ll be awake for the C Section”

“Yes”

“Alright, the medic is going to come by in a minute to take you to get the appropriate gear and I’ll get the surgical droid to come in to wheel you in, Jirli”

Jirli squeezed my hand, “Is she in danger?”

“If we wait any longer, she could be. We’re doing this to keep her from being in danger.”

She simply nodded as she watched the Doc head out, I took her hand, placing a kiss on the back of her hand, holding it to my lips, as my other hand rubbed her womb “It’ll be okay, Jirli. She’ll be okay. You both will.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because you are a strong, powerful, intelligent woman who would do anything for her children, and that means both of you surviving for Din and Boba” I squeezed her hand, pressing it against my forehead, “And for me” I mumbled. “You’ll both survive for all of us. It’ll be okay.” I shifted her hand, looking at her face.

She bit her bottom lip, as her hand rested on top of mine, intertwining our fingers, “Wolffe …” I saw her lip begin to tremble, “If during the surgery” she cleared her throat, “If it comes between saving our baby or me …”

“Don’t mesh’la”

“Wolffe …”

“No. Riduur, I told you a long time ago, I’m not losing you. You’ll both be fine, trust me” I squeezed her hand, I shifted, kissing her with all my love, “You’ll be fine” I mumbled against her lips. She was about to say something more, when the door slid open, as the nurses came in ushering me out of the room as they got her ready for surgery. We shared one last look.

“I love you, Jirli”

She smiled mouthing ‘I love you,’ before a nurse took me down the hall explaining she was taking me to put on a gown, cap, mask, and shoe covers to keep the room sterile. It was a necessary process for the surgery, she went over the steps of how to wash my hands properly as well, helping me.

I hadn’t realized how nervous I was until the nurse took my gloved hands in hers, “Here let me help, your hands are shaking.” I couldn’t even answer her, I simply nodded as she took the gown from my hand and helped me put it on, my eyes were focused on Jirli’s room watching for any movement, I wanted to be ready to follow her into the room as soon as I could.

“She’ll be okay”

“Huh?” I turned to look at the nurse, she took my hand in hers again, holding it tightly. Her thumb rubbing against my knuckles back and forth. It felt strangely intimate with the way she was looking into my eyes and standing so close to me.

“Dr. Natuspri is very good, your baby will be in good hands, and I have no doubt your partner will be fine”

I didn’t know why at that moment, but something about the way she looked at me and held my hand made me uncomfortable, I pulled my hand out of her hold, and took a step back, “I have no doubt. My wife is a very strong and capable woman.” She offered a soft smile, taking a step towards me, her mouth opened as though she was getting ready to say something, however at that moment thankfully, Jirli came out of her room. I simply offered a quick word of thanks and rushed to Jirli’s side taking her hand in mine.

“Alright, dad” the head nurse setting up the surgical suite called my attention, “We’ll be putting up this curtain, trust me when I say you don’t want to look behind the curtain. Especially, if you’re squeamish.”

Jirli stifled a laugh as she laid down on the med bed, “Trust me, he isn’t squeamish, right Wolffe?”

“Nope, but I think I’ll wait till you’re not cut open to look. The idea of seeing my wife cut open isn’t exactly something I itching to see.”

“I think that’s a smart idea” the surgical nurse uttered, smirking at the two of us.

“You two okay?” Dr. Natuspri stood beside us as she came into the room, we both simply nodded, “Jirli we’re going to begin, you’re not going to feel anything, but I highly recommend you don’t look Wolffe.”

“Understood” I squeezed Jirli’s hand, placing a kiss to Jirli’s forehead, stroking her head, “It’s going to be fine. She’s going to be fine.”

Jirli smiled as she squeezed my hand, “I know. I’m just … Wolffe, we’re having our baby today. Our little girl is being born today.”

I smiled wide under my mask, “Yeah she is, rid’ika. I have no doubt she’s going to be just as beautiful as you are.”

“She’s going to look like you” Jirli closed her eyes, smiling, no doubt she was communicating with the baby, something she had been doing a lot lately. “She’s excited”

“Really?”

“Yeah, she’s sending feelings of warmth, anticipation, happiness and love. She’s going to be a very happy child.”

“Just like her mom, she’ll also no doubt be getting into a lot of trouble with two brothers who wreck havoc at any given moment.”

She had a smile on her face that went from ear to ear, “Speaking of our boys, did you message Boost?”

“Yeah, they’ll be waiting for you once your done. Not just them either. “

“You contacted everyone?”

“Nope Boost did.”

She smirked, looking into my eyes, when her eyes began drooping, her head slumped against the table, the strength in her hands weakened as it slipped out of my grip, “Jirli?”

Before she could answer me, before I could call out her name again or grab her hand, I felt a hand on my shoulder, as a baby’s cry fill the room, within moments I was being ushered from her room, outside by another nurse, and being directed to some sort of waiting room, all while my protests and calling of Jirli’s name fell on deaf ears.

“Wait! What’s going on?”

“Please wait outside”

I tried to push my way back in, but security guards appeared out of nowhere, forcing me into the room, they just directed me to “NO! Someone tell me , what’s going on!” I struggled against the two men who stood on either side of me.

“Mr. Koon,” a hand pressed against my chest, forcing me to look at the nurse in front of me, “I know this is scary and unexpected. Please take a deep breath” the nurse came to my side taking my arm, as I calmed down against the men restraining my arms. “I’ll explain everything Mr. Koon, my name is Angie, just come with me, and I’ll make sure they bring your daughter to you. However, for your wife’s sake and for the doctor who is working on her, I need you to remain as calm as possible. Do you agree?”

I simply nodded, trying my best not to think of the worst outcome possible. Angie offered a comforting smile as she directed me towards a chair, the room didn’t seem quite as full with despair as a moment ago. Before I even realized why I started to feel a comforting presence all around, there was this tiny bundle in my arms that looked exactly like Jirli. The moment my eyes met her tiny face, I had fallen in love, she had dark curly hair on the top of her head, her nose was perfect for her face, even her lips were so small and dainty, her fingers were barely able to wrap around my finger. She was barely the size of my forearm, she was so light, I could barely feel her in my arm. This moment didn’t feel real, but yet there she was in my arms, perfect and beautiful. My beautiful daughter.

“Sir?”

I felt my eyes welling up with tears, I took in a deep breath, before looking up meeting Angie’s eyes, she looked as though she was waiting for me to respond, “I’m sorry?”

“I was wondering if you are able to listen to what’s happening with your wife?

I closed my eyes focusing back on my ad’ika, “Yes” I trailed my finger over her tiny head, “What happened?”

“Your wife began bleeding heavier than the doctor would have liked one your daughter was safely delivered. The Dr. Natuspri is working hard to get the bleeding under control. I’ll come back to let you know when she’s out of the woods. Once the doctor is done, we’ll move her to recovery.”

Though I heard the words, I couldn’t quite grasp what she was saying, I simply tightened my hold on my ad’ika. “Is she going to survive?” I focused on my daughter, not wanting to look at the nurse who could possibly be changing my future, with one word.

“Dr. Natuspri is very good, she’ll do her best for your wife.”

I simply nodded, after all what was she going to say? She couldn’t provide me a guarantee on something she had no control over, as a soldier, as a the Duchess’ Head of Security I knew quite well there was no guarantees in life, and no one could guarantee anyone’s life. No matter how many precautions you took.

I heard the door slide open, when silence filled the room, it was just me and my ad’ika in whatever room they put us. I couldn’t focus on anything except her, she was keeping me calm the longer I looked at her; I felt a warm and calming presence fill me, I couldn’t help smile and place a kiss on her tiny forehead, my beautiful ad’ika, barely born a few hours and she was already trying to take care of me. Time seemed to stand still while I held her in my arms, “I promise I’ll make sure to take care of you ner ad’ika, however thank you for taking care of me. Ni kar’tyalir darasuum gar (I love you).”

“Mr. Koon?” I froze a little at hearing Dr. Natuspri’s voice, I looked up to see the doc there smiling, I hadn’t heard the door slide open or her footsteps coming closer to me, “Your wife is just fine.” I felt tears beginning to prick my eyes, as a weight lifted off my shoulders and chest. “There was a slight concern due to the excessive bleeding which sometimes does occur in caesarean . However, we got the bleeding stopped, her vitals are looking good, we’re moving her to recovery now. I’d like to keep her for an extra day or two just to make sure there are no re-bleeds or any other complications. Your daughter, as you can see, is doing well, very healthy and no complications. She’ll be able to go home with you tomorrow.”

I nodded, bitting back the tears, “Thank you, Dr. Natuspri” I cleared my throat, “What caused the excessive bleeding?”

“An old wound she had from the war, but like I said, everything looks really good. I’ll have a nurse come and bring you both to her, okay?” She placed a hand on my shoulder, giving it a light squeeze, “Mr. Koon, I believe there are some very impatient and very excited family members waiting for you in the waiting room” she smirked.

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

“She’s beautiful” Plo’buir took my ad’ika into his arms, “She looks so much like Jirli when she was first brought to the temple. How is my daughter doing?”

“She’s in recovery. They’re going to let me know when I can go see her” Boba and Din were peering from either side of Plo’buir trying to get a good look at their vod’ika.

“How are you?” Boost and Sinker both smacked my back as they stood beside me.

“Tired. Emotional. At one point, I was scared. Really scared.”

Sinker squeezed my shoulder, tapping his head against mine, “You gonna tell me who the father is?” He smirked as he glanced over to my face. One thing I could count on Sinker for was always trying to lighten up the mood, I gave him a quick jab into his side.

“Come on, vod” Boost added, “She’s too pretty to be your daughter. Jirli’s sure. Your’s … ehhh”

“If you two would like for me to teach you why I was Commander of the 104th, and why I’m your ori’vod just say the word. We’re in a hospital so even if you were both on the verge of death, someone would deign to save you” I gritted my teeth clenching my fists by my side.

Boost and Sinker chuckling, as they wrapped me up in their hug, “Relax vod” Sinker stated, “Yeah” Boost jeered, “We’re joking. Obviously, she’s your kid, she’s got that Wolffe scowl going” Boost motioned with his head.

We all looked at her, and sure enough there was a scowl on her tiny face, clear as day. I couldn’t love her more than I did at that moment. As much as sometimes my vode irritated me, I was glad to have them by my side, especially when my emotions were everywhere.

“Mr. Koon?”

I turned to the voice, it was the same nurse from before the one who held my hand too tightly, “Yes?” I growled at her, wanting to keep her away from my family and me.

“Your wife is in her room, if you would like to see her.”

“Thank you” my voice was stern, and my face said it all showing I wasn’t particularly impressed by that woman. She didn’t leave simply stood there looking at me, “Is there something else?” Neither Boost nor Sinker dared to interject, they knew me well enough to know that this tone was reserved for those who had crossed a line.

“Uh… no, sorry.” She quickly left, and I focused back on my little girl.

“What’s her name?” Din asked as he took her tiny hand in his.

“Well what if we wait till your buir wakes up and we can name her all together?”

Boba looked from his vod’ika to me, smiling, “Does that mean we can name her anything?”

“Within reason, Boba”

“Fine” he huffed out. I could just imagine what that boy was thinking of calling his younger sister.

- - - - - - - - - - -

JIRLI POV

My eyes felt heavy as I opened them, I felt the familiar talons of my father holding my hand, I turned my head to see Plo’buir sitting beside my bed, looking at me.

“If you needed a vacation that badly, you could’ve just commed, my dear”

I chuckled, as I squeezed his hand, “Sorry dad, but I wanted to create as much drama and attention as possible.” I winced a little as I shifted, “How’s Wolffe and my lil’ girl?”

Plo’buir let out a chuckle, “Wolffe is very much becoming wrapped around the little girl’s finger. He won’t let her down, even Boba and Din have barely had any chance to hold her. I was amazed he let me hold her for as long as I did.” I squeezed his hand, grateful that he was there by my side.

“When will I get to see her? I have even had a chance to see her …” the tears were beginning to well up, as I realized most had seen her before I had and I was her mother.

“Oh ad’ika, it’s okay” Plo’buir wrapped his arms around me, sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling me into a hug, “I’ll get Wolffe to bring her here now. I apologize greatly ad’ika, you should’ve been the one to see her first.”

I’m not even sure why I was crying so heavily into my father’s shoulder, it wasn’t logical, after all I was out after the surgery. What was Wolffe suppose to do, lock himself in a room until I woke up? If I ever woke up? The thought that I might never have seen my family again, never meeting my ad’ika, never have Wolffe’s arms wrapped around me …

“Shhh, ad’ika. It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

- - - - - - - - - - -

“Hey your buir is still sleeping, trying and be a little quieter” I could hear Wolffe’s voice calling to me from my half dazed sleep, my eyelids felt incredibly heavy as I opened them to see him sitting there with our ad’ika in his arms, Boba and Din looking at her, making faces and joking, while trying to irritating each other at the same time.

I couldn’t help smile at the scene in front of me, “Are you all behaving or are you driving the nurses up the wall?” I mumbled still half asleep.

Wolffe locked eyes with me, his adoration and nerves brimming at the edge of his eyes along with his tears, he took in a deep shuddering breath as a smile graced his lips, “You’re awake.” Before I could even respond Boba and Din rushed to my side throwing there arms around me, clinging for dear life. I squeezed them just as hard in return, placing a kiss on each of their heads.

“Alright boys” Wolffe stood heading over to us as the boys kept squeezing me, “Your buir and I need to talk, and she needs to feed your vod’ika. Go spend some time with our aliit that are patiently waiting outside and no doubt causing a havoc, knowing Sinker, Boost and Anakin.”

“They made it?” I smiled sleepily.

Wolffe placed a kiss on my forehead, passing me our ad’ika in my arms, “Of course, they did.” He turned to the boys motioning with his head, “On your way boys”

“We’ll be back, buir”

“Be good, vod’ika” They waved bye as the door slid close, Wolffe took the seat beside me, helping me sit up.

He sat there watching the two of us, as a tear slipped down his cheek, I reached up wiping it with my thumb, cupping his cheek with my hand, he held it against his cheek turning my hand slightly placing a kiss on my palm, breathing in my scent. “You have no idea how much I wanted to break down the door and stay with you in the operating room. They had to have two security guards try and hold me back.”

I felt tears beginning to prick my eyes, as another tear slipped down his cheek, “What do you mean try?” I chuckled fighting back the tears.

He chuckled wiping the tears from his face, and then wiping the one that had slipped through my defences. “If it wasn’t for Angie, a rather convincing nurse, I would’ve killed the two guards trying to hold me back.”

“I believe it, but who’s Angie?”

“One of the male nurses that was there during your C Section”

“Oh, I see. Thought you developed a crush on one of the nurses or something”

Wolffe simply shook his head, pressing another kiss into my palm, “How could I possibly look at anyone else, when you are my everything. Your intellect, your courage, your faith, the way you look after our kids, after me, after our family, every day I get to know you a little more, every day I fall in love with you more than the day before. How could I ever look at anyone, when you are my heart.”

I shifted my hand grabbing his shirt, and pulling him to my lips. I gave him a quick kiss, smiling as he rested his forehead against mine, “I love you, Wolffe.” Apparently, this was too much for our ad’ika as she started to fuss and cry. “I guess this little one, wants some food, huh?” I chuckled, placing a kiss on her tiny forehead, which calmed her down a little, she grabbed my medic gown, pulling herself closer.

“Guess she’s really hungry”

“How long was I out for?”

“A few hours, one of the nurses said when we’re ready we can comm for the lactation consultant, if you are having difficulties feeding her.”

“Let me try first and see, Dr. Natuspri went over in detail what I needed to do.”

“Alright” It was a bit of a balancing act at first, thankfully, Wolffe helped me a little, but soon enough she was there in my arms, feeding. “How does it feel?”

“Weird, but strangely wonderful at the same time. Although, I know for future kids I might not be able to feed them like this.”

“How come?”

“Depends on if I’m producing enough milk, if I’m producing too much milk, if I have a blocked milk duct, I could also get an infection, or if the baby is tongue tied.”

“Tongue tied?”

“There’s a strip of skin that attached the tongue to the floor of the mouth, sometimes it can be shorter then usual, making it difficult for the baby to suck.”

“The more you know” Wolffe chuckled watching us, “You know, we still need to name her and soon, before Boba and Din get some weird name they want to call her.”

“Did they already offer up suggestions?” I chuckled as I looked at her feeding without a care in the world.

“Yup”

“Do I want to know?”

“Well I mean ulle’a-ka’oa’yr (booger-eater) has a nice wonderful ring, and b'udaye- asa'yr (fart-lover ) certainly has it’s appeal, maybe for our fourth one?”

I couldn’t help laughing at their ridiculousness, “Maker how I love those two, you’re right we need to find a better name before they get a hold of the registration sheet.”

“Agreed.”

“Do you have anything in mind?”

“Diribua (Panacea - a remedy for all difficulties or disease), we could call her Diri for short”

“Diribua Koon, I like it”

“What about you?” Wolffe stroked her head, “Is there a name that you were thinking of?”

“Iu’a’a (Aurora - Dawn), a long time ago Plo’buir once told me, the dawn marks the start of a new day, a new hope, a new possibility without limitations. She marks the beginning of a new era in our lives. What do you think?”

“Iu’a’a Koon”

“Iu’a’a Diribua Koon”

“Iu’a’a Diribua Koon” Wolffe nodded, placing a kiss on her tiny hand, “Pleasure to meet you ner bec’ika (my little pup)”

Whatever faced us, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, our entire family and extended family were all there for us, and for all of our kids. However many they would be.

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the-bad-batch-baroness · 4 months

Text

Where's Mommy?

Wolffe x OFC

Part 6

Summary: Wolffe's wife suddenly dies, leaving him a single father in the middle of a war.

Pairing: Wolffe x OFC

Characters: Wolffe, Cara (child OFC), Sinker, Comet, Boost

Tags & Warnings: heavy angst, mention of death, off-screen death, spousal death, grief, hurt/comfort, family fluff

Word Count: 1.9k

Author's Note: Sorry about no fic last week. I had surgery on Friday and didn't get a chance to post the fic I wanted to post, so to stay on schedule, I'm forgoing that fic for another update of this one! Yay! This part is going to be tough, but it was absolutely necessary for Cara and Wolffe to have this moment together just as much as the bath time moment. Let's just say, breakfast doesn't go as planned. (oops it got longer) As always, please enjoy 💚

Part 1 || Prev | Next

After bath time was done, and they'd both dried off and changed into new clothes, it was time for breakfast. Wolffe really hoped his Pack brothers came through and made a decent breakfast for all of them. He was starving, and he knew Cara must be hungry too. He was a little worried since he didn't give Boost any directions, but there was foodstuff in the conservator, he thought, or, well, he hoped. Knowing his wife, she would've stocked up when she found out he was coming home.

Wolffe walked into the kitchen with Cara following closely behind, but stopped in his tracks at what he saw. Cara didn't stop walking and bumped into the back of his leg with a small oomph. Feeling the light hit, Wolffe reached back around with his hand to rub her head, still staring dumbstruck at the state of the kitchen.

"What in the…" Wolffe said with wide eyes. It was a mess. A complete and utter mess. He wasn't even sure it was still a kitchen. "I said make breakfast, not fight breakfast!"

"We did!" Boost grinned. He had flour patches across his face and streaks down his clothes.

"Sweetie," Wolffe said as he looked down at Cara. "Do you know what that is?" He pointed at Boost.

Cara shook her head.

"I'm gonna teach you a new word," Wolffe smiled. "That is a di'kut."

"Dee… koot," she repeated.

"Hey!" Boost exclaimed, clearly offended by the remark.

Wolffe snorted. "You're the one who said it's never too late to start."

Boost opened his mouth to argue, but then closed it because Wolffe was right.

"Anyway," Comet chimed in and gestured towards the table. "Breakfast is served!"

Wolffe sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that morning, and walked Cara over to the table to eat whatever breakfast his Pack brothers created. She climbed up onto her chair next to him and he made sure she was seated properly so she wouldn't fall off. Sinker then walked around the table and placed the plates down with their homemade pancakes stacked on them. Wolffe eyed the oddly shaped and multi-colored pancakes suspiciously and raised an eyebrow up at his brother.

"What?" Sinker asked.

"Is it edible?" Wolffe asked.

"I made them," Comet added. "So, yeah, they're edible."

Wolffe snorted. Of course Boost and Sinker couldn't be left alone to make breakfast. It was a good thing they picked up Comet when they did or they'd all have starved by now.

Cara tugged on Wolffe's pants and he lowered his head so he could hear her.

"Where's mommy?" she asked.

The room went silent and Wolffe sighed. Not this again. "She's not here, sweetie," he answered, then pulled her plate a little closer to the edge of the table. "Now, eat your breakfast for me."

"We can't eat without mommy," Cara said, then pushed the plate back.

Wolffe bit back his frustration and pulled the plate towards her again. "You have to eat."

"Not without mommy!" she yelled and pushed the plate with more force, knocking the fork onto the floor.

"Cara," Wolffe warned, his patience wearing thin. "This isn't a debate."

"I don't want it!" she screamed.

Cara climbed down from her chair, sat on the floor, and cried loudly. She was in a full-blown tantrum and Wolffe didn't know what to do. He looked over at Comet, Boost, and Sinker with pleading eyes, but the three of them only shrugged. Her screaming became louder and pierced Wolffe straight through the head, making it throb and ache like earlier. Somehow she'd reached a frequency that made him want to scream too. He tried to keep himself under control and calm her down.

"Sweetie," Wolffe said as he rubbed his temples. "I need you to stop screaming, please."

She continued to wail from her seat on the floor, tears streaming down her face as her cheeks turned red. Wolffe could feel the tension in his head rising as it threatened to boil over and explode. Why couldn't she just stop crying? Why couldn't she just understand? Why did he have to keep explaining it to her? He tried to think of his best options, but her incessant screaming was grating on his nerves and clouding his thoughts. If she didn't quiet down soon, the neighbors were going to think he was hurting her.

"Cara!" Wolffe barked, picking his hands up from the table to try and settle himself. "I said stop!"

Cara looked at Wolffe and stopped crying, and, for a moment, Wolffe thought it was finally over.

"I want mommy!" she started screaming again. "I want mommy! I want mommy! I want mommy!"

The tension snapped like a taut wire and Wolffe's chair scraped across the floor as he violently pushed it back. He took a few steps towards Cara, dropped to his knees, and grabbed her little shoulders so she was looking him in the eyes. "She's not coming back!" he yelled. "Do you understand me? She's never coming back! She's dead! She's gone! So, just stop asking for her already!"

Wolffe panted at the exertion and hung his head between his arms, the anger and frustration slowly dissipating. The words he spoke so ferociously, not only to his daughter but also to himself, echoed in his mind. He picked his head up and looked at his wide-eyed daughter, instantly feeling a shooting pain straight through his heart. She looked confused. She looked helpless. She looked scared. She looked scared… of him. Remorse washed over him like a tidal wave and the panic of what he just did flooded his brain.

"Oh, kriff," Wolffe breathed as he released his grip on her tiny shoulders. Cara backed away from him until she bumped into Comet's leg. Wolffe's breath hitched. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Baby–" Wolffe reached out his hand, but Cara turned away from him and grabbed onto Comet's leg.

Comet looked down at Wolffe with a pained expression, then at Cara, and sighed. "Come here, ad'ika," he soothed. "I've got you." He picked Cara up into his arms and she grabbed onto his shirt, hanging on with tight little fists while burying her face in his chest. He readjusted her on his hip, then locked eyes with Wolffe in a silent word. Wolffe hung his head and Comet left the room with Cara.

Once Cara was out of the kitchen, Wolffe pounded his fists onto the floor and yelled in frustration.

Sinker knelt beside him and placed his hand on Wolffe's shoulder.

"What have I done?" Wolffe choked. He wanted to vomit. "I grabbed her. I yelled at her. I've never– I wouldn't– How could I do that?"

Sinker looked up at Boost and gestured for him to go do something else for the moment. Boost nodded and left the kitchen.

"Maker forgive me," Wolffe's voice quivered. "She's just a child, and I… I treated her like a cadet. Like a kriffing shiny!"

"Wolffe–"

"No!" Wolffe yelled and smacked Sinker's hand away. "There's no excuse."

Sinker sighed and sat back on his haunches. "Give yourself a break, will ya? Your wife's dead."

Wolffe flinched at the bluntness of the comment, but maybe that was what he needed right now.

"Maker, Wolffe," Sinker continued. "It's only been what? Twelve standard hours? And in that time you've lost your wife, your home, your belongings, and you almost lost Cara too. You really thought you could get through this without losing your temper a little?"

"I'm a commander–"

"Kriff being a commander," Sinker rolled his eyes. He moved around the floor to face Wolffe. "You're still human, commander or not, and Cara doesn't need Commander Wolffe right now, she just needs her dad. You know, the one who loves her?"

"But I scared her…" Wolffe lamented, the words burning in the back of his throat. "She was scared of me."

"She'll be fine," Sinker said with a wave of his hand. "Just apologize and move on. She's a tough kid. Tougher than you might think." Sinker smirked. "You are her dad after all."

A small smile formed at the corner of Wolffe's mouth. Sinker was right about one thing. She was the daughter of a clone commander, not just some random natborn off the streets. His genetics, and his wife's, ran through her veins. She was sensitive like her mother, but she got his resilience and also his attitude. Plo's words from the night before still rang true. He needed to take each moment as it came and do what was needed then, even if that meant messing it up once and a while. She'd forgive him one day.

Wolffe took a deep breath to compose himself before Sinker offered a hand to help him up. He accepted it without complaint. Looking back at the table of untouched food, now getting cold, another sigh escaped his lips. Cara still hadn't eaten and he wasn't sure if they had any more time for delays since they had to leave soon. He decided to pack some of the pancakes in a container and hoped that Cara would eat them like that. It wasn't ideal, but it was better than nothing.

After putting the food away, Wolffe took another deep breath, then released it slowly before walking out of the kitchen and towards the living room. He stepped to the threshold, and just as he thought, Comet was sitting on the couch with Cara sitting calmly on his lap. He never understood how Comet got so good with kids, but he was thankful. With slow and soft steps, Wolffe approached them. He sat down on the ground and fiddled with a piece of the carpet while he got up the nerve to speak.

"Cara," Wolffe said softly.

Cara lifted her head from resting against Comet's chest to look at Wolffe.

"I'm sorry I got upset and yelled at you," he said. "It was wrong."

"It's okay…" she mumbled into Comet's shirt.

"No, baby, it's not," he continued. "I know… I know this is scary. Daddy is scared too, but that doesn't make it okay for either of us to get upset at each other." He paused, gauging her expression and understanding of what he was saying. "So, how about less screaming and more listening, for both of us?"

"Okay," she said. "I'm sorry, daddy."

Wolffe smiled weakly and released another shaky breath. He opened his arms. "Can I have a hug?"

Cara nodded and squirmed out of Comet's arms and into Wolffe's. He held her tight against him, careful not to hurt her, and kissed the side of her head. He started rocking her and looked up at Comet, who had a warm smile on his face. Wolffe mouthed a simple thank you to him and Comet nodded. Wolffe didn't know what he would do without his Pack brothers, and it pained his heart that it took a tragedy such as this for him to realize just how much they meant to him.

"Daddy?" Cara mumbled into his chest.

Wolffe leaned her back so he could see her face. "Yes, baby?'

"Is mommy ever gonna come home?" she asked.

Wolffe bit his tongue. "No baby, she's not."

"I'm gonna miss mommy," she sniffled and her eyes turned watery.

Wolffe leaned his forehead against Cara's and let his own emotions show. "Me too, baby. Me too."

Part 1 || Prev | Next

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wild-karrde · 1 year

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Karrde's Fandom Friday Rec #2

My next rec this week has to go to my good friend and beta-reader @teletraan-meets-jarvis for her fic Pieces. TJ just returned after a decent hiauts with a NINE THOUSAND WORD CHAPTER, and let me tell you, it was worth the wait. I love how TJ has incorporated her absolutely phenomenal OCs into the story of the Wolfpack and their evolution. Her Jedi OC Issa is wonderful and kind and I love seeing how her relationship with Wolffe is developing. In addition to Issa, there are some FANTASTIC clone OCs, including my OC Chuckles's batchmate Two-Pint and Book (who I love with all of my heart). If you're looking for a slow burn Wolffe/OFC fic that contains so much depth and wonderful characters, I cannot recommend this fic enough.

Participate in Fandom Friday to show your favorite creators from this week some love! :)

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kaeda-the-wolf · 7 months

Text

It was a simple enough deal. A few rules bent, a blind eye turned.

Simple.

Until it's not.

She shouldn't be surprised. Not really, anyway.

Any good cop -hell, anyone with even a shred of common sense- should know that making a deal with a cartel boss is risky business.

Diego Jimenz x Lauren Wolffe (OFC)

MASTERLIST

Chapter One: The Cynic & The Bleeding Heart

Chapter Two: Burgers & Bail

Chapter Three: Burning Bridges

Chapter Four: Deals & Devils

Chapter Five: Logic & Lust

#maurice compte #diego jimenez #lauren wolffe #DETECTIVE #OFC fic #masterlist #A Delicate Balance #OFC x Diego Jiemenez

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agendabymooner · 1 year

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if not for you ! daniel r. x ofc (måneskin member! ofc) // toto w.

SPIN OFF for COLOUR ME YOUR COLOUR and RUSH

"there'll be no spring if not for this love of mine"

summary: posts and tweets exchanged between lester and others during the baku race weekend as she babysat toto and tilly wolff's children. OR chaos ensues in the paddock and the hospitalities as the wolff kids and an asshole ex-lover (is he really?) made their presence known to almost anyone

content warning: character-centric, mentions of questionable man, appearance of characters not yet shown in the series colour me your colour, toto wolff being canonically fashionable, use of explicit language, faceclaims used for the kids, danny is full on babygirl in the instagram comment section. f1 drivers being messy.

note: sorry for the awol guys, i was walking my fish. tomorrow is the start of the canadian gp 2023 and i am sad that i am not there. maybe next year when i have the money? or maybe when i work for pr. who knows. since i'm not there, i'm just celebrating and writing this.

ALSO!! should i do a blurb or something relating to lester babysitting the paddock kids- like the wolff kids? i've started on it but...

enjoy xx

masterlist

[first image dialogue: i don't normally look at the time because i dress faster than this. i even dress ren and tia for less than seven minutes and they're always dressed nicely for their music classes]

[second image: if they're dressed ten minutes after, that's not my doing; toto dresses them and he struggles a lot. he mostly gets them ready if he's taking them to work or if i'm off to a meeting in milton keynes]

[third image: we've made a lot of trips to ralph lauren and tommy hilfiger because he thinks that he can just mix and match the clothes that we got there for the bunch. said it's a "capsule wardrobe." that's what happens when you're married to a fashion expert, i suppose.]

[fourth image: you'll be able to know if he dresses them once you see the jumper/dress shorts/trousers combo or the dress/jumper combo. you'll know he did the preparing if tia's hair is put in place with a hair clip. she loves it when her papa puts in barrettes in her thin hair.]

tagged tillywolff, mercedesamgf1, redbullracing

view 32142 more comments

carlossainzjr ay, i didn't know they were running a barber shop! i need a haircut

tillywolff i don't recall buying that toy set for them 🧐

charles_leclerc maman said to get it for them so it can remind them of their mamé pascale

tillywolff thank you so much for taking care of ren and tia! i've been told they enjoyed being with their zia lori. maybe you can take care for adelmo next time? liked by loressandro

loressandro i will definitely set up a playroom for the next time!

landonorris thank you so much tillywolff for the best hairstylist ever 😇 i got the best trim in the grid right now and no one can outdo it

mercedesamgf1 boss is asking who's responsible for allowing one of the wolff puppies drink red bull? just asking for research purposes 😊

charles_leclerc maxverstappen1

lewishamilton maxverstappen1

user1 LMFAOOOO not lewis and charles snitching on their in-law 😭

charles_leclerc user1 i need to be in toto's good graces again.

maxverstappen1 it's a red bull water bottle 💀 stop trying to push me back at the starting level mf charles_leclerc

user2 those kids are so toto coded 🥰

user3 if you can survive lando, you can survive the wolff kids 🙌 liked by loressandro

danielricciardo if you can survive the wolff kids, you can survive our kids 😘 liked by loressandro

thomasraggi_ yeah but try surviving her kids 💀

ykaaar you're about to have the BEST years of your life, danny

ethaneskin alessandro-ricciardo kids bout to treat the tracks like mario kart deluxe 🤡

loressandro guys please... this is the only man who's willing to put up with me. stop scaring him away

danielricciardo i'm not scared, i am challenged 😎

landonorris danielricciardo mental health wise? bc same.

danielricciardo when are we having our little ricciardo??

loressandro depends if your swimmers are still working in few months or years. also if you stop laughing at your own nephews and nieces, dickhead

danielricciardo got it ma'am. anything just to have your kids <3

190 notes · View notes

enigmaticexplorer · 2 months

Text

I Yearn, and so I Fear - Chapter XVI

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Pairing. Commander Wolffe x female!OC

Fic Rating. E (explicit)/18+/Minors DNI.

Chapter Word Count. 5.1K

Beta. @starstofillmydream

20 Yelona

Like most people, Kazi maintained certain self-destructive tendencies that, when willfully ignored, could and would fuck her over.

In particular, her tendency to avoid a problem created an unhealthy handling of her emotions.

So, it wasn’t a surprise when her early-morning attempt to prepare quiche went awry.

Originally, when she first prepared the dish for the men a month ago, it was her way to show her appreciation for their respectful cohabitation. A simple meal for them to take on their mission.

Eventually, though, her childhood interest renewed. Preparing the traditional dish reminded her of chilly mornings at the harbor.

Sitting on a barrel while the ships prepared for their journeys, she listened to the sailors tell their tales of oceanic beasts and tumultuous storms. She snacked on her father’s leftover quiche, and when the ships were secured, she stood on the dock watching her father’s ship disappear on the horizon, eager for new stories upon his return.

Unfortunately, this morning’s quiche preparation couldn’t distract her from her thoughts. Her emotions were scattered, and when she tried to pinpoint one, a conflicting one arose.

She was interested in Wolffe.

She was lonely and wanted a friend.

She thought Wolffe might be interested in her.

She was dramatizing her life and looking into nonexistent corollaries.

She wanted to be with Wolffe.

Wolffe was a man she respected and trusted, and she was deluding herself into believing he wanted her.

Gritting her teeth, Kazi glared at the lump of dough she was kneading. It was too floury. Too thick and coarse.

With a defeated sigh, she tossed the inedible batch, cleaned the counters and dishes, and washed her hands. Movement outside the sunroom’s windows—both Wolffe and Fox were outside when she returned from her swim, the former tending to the garden while the latter sanded the tree trunk he fell weeks ago—convinced her to leave the house and skip another awkward morning with Wolffe.

The past six days Kazi tried to act normal. Pretended her revelation lacked depth. Her attempts to remain casual and unbothered came across as aloof and apathetic.

Ever observant, Wolffe commented on her unusual behavior yesterday morning. Flustered by his shrewd gaze and her tiny, persistent tug of yearning she tried and failed to snip away, she told him to mind his own business and then left. They hadn’t been alone since, though she had felt the heat of his gaze on her face most of dinner last night.

The drive to Hollow’s Town blurred in a tunnel of green and lightening skies. Typically, Kazi would appreciate the watery streaks of orange and the tendrils of a blooming sun, but her mind was too focused elsewhere. Namely, on the fear choking her.

As a child, her mother told her stories about shooting stars. The stories were all the same: When you wished upon a star, your wish would come true. It might take months, perhaps decades, but it would come true.

Over the years, her wish remained the same. A wish for romantic companionship. It was a secret she shared with dying stars, and dying stars only. Daria used to tease her for her secrecy, but she didn’t care. Her wish was special.

As she matured, though, Kazi realized the foolishness of her wish.

Solitude couldn’t hurt her.

Companionship could ruin her.

Because it would never last.

And yet she yearned for it. She yearned for the intimacy of trust and emotional connection. She yearned for the vulnerability of private conversations, lingering looks, and quiet moments. She yearned for soft touches and held hands and comfort beneath sheets.

She yearned for Wolffe in a way she didn’t deserve, and it scared her too, too much.

“Kazi?”

The voice startled her from both her spinning thoughts and aimless wandering and, straightening, she nodded at Fehr. The older woman was dressed in loose trousers and a long-sleeve work shirt, her hair braided in an elaborate crown atop her head. She appeared ready for a long day at her farm. But it was the knowing look in her sharp gaze—the scrutinous intrigue belying her insouciant expression—that disconcerted Kazi.

“Early morning?”

“Something like that,” Kazi said, surveying her current location and noting her position on the outskirts of the Square.

Fehr glanced at the chrono on her wrist. “You can join me for breakfast.”

Her unapologetic tone brokered no room for argument, and Kazi bit the inside of her cheek, silently berating herself for not being mindful of her surroundings. She exhaled a mirthless breath and followed her fellow rebel.

Fifteen minutes later and they were sitting outside a local café, the sole eatery open this early in the morning. A basket of cinnamon bread and mugs of steaming chocolate mush littered their cozy table. Kazi let her gaze wander from Fehr to the distant sky.

Since the Square sat on a hill, it provided a stunning display of Eluca’s orange sunrise, the clouds flickering flames of a fire. The top of the sun, dark yellow and demanding attention, had breached the horizon.

Sipping from her drink, Kazi observed the few patrons of the morning. A weathered man stood beside his flower stall, a girl—most likely his granddaughter—was cutting the stalks of the bouquets she was preparing. Kazi returned her attention to Fehr.

Months had passed since she last connected with Fehr or any of the rebels, outside of Carinthia. She hadn’t minded the distance and lack of communication. She still harbored a grudge against Fehr’s political maneuvering.

Setting aside her mug, she breached the silence. “Is the network in need of something from me?”

“No.” Fehr plopped a piece of cinnamon bread into her mouth, chewing pensively. “We can speak together outside of the network. I hope you’re aware of that.”

Kazi lifted an eyebrow. “The network is the only thing that matters to you.”

“Your assessment is more accurate for Bash.” Fehr paused. “Possibly Carinthia.”

“But not you?”

Fehr eyed her warily. “You think poorly of me, Kazi, and I don’t blame you. I took advantage of your circumstances and used them to benefit the network’s mission. I wouldn’t trust myself either.”

The honesty in her voice surprised Kazi and she studied Fehr closer. Assessed the wrinkles deepening her eyes and the heaviness dulling her silver eyes.

“When I met you, I saw a young woman burdened by the Empire,” Fehr said quietly. “Your skills, while not truly exceptional in the grander scheme of the network, were good enough for us to use. I thought you would be enraged, and I wanted to channel your rage to the detriment of the Empire. I was wrong.”

Kazi clenched her mug. “What do you mean you were wrong?”

“You lacked the rage I wanted—”

“I was angry at the Empire. I still am,” she interrupted. Her left hand started to tremble and she fisted it in her lap. “Don’t think for one minute that I wasn’t affected by the Empire’s invasion of my planet—”

“You were upset, but you were too distracted by other things.” Fehr stared at her pointedly and Kazi pursed her lips. “I thought you would jump at the opportunity to infiltrate the Empire and secure the intel we needed. I thought you could become an essential spy. But you lacked the desire to do so, and I realized, belatedly, my analysis of your character was inaccurate.”

A waiter joined them on the patio, readjusting the floral vines decorating the front of the café. Kazi took the moment of silence to neutralize her expression and collect her thoughts. She hadn’t known the depth of Fehr’s planning—the expectations. Knowing the network wanted to hone her anger to their benefit unsettled her.

The moment the waiter returned inside, Fehr leaned across the table. “The network has one goal: to defeat the Empire.”

“I’m aware,” Kazi deadpanned.

“You’re not aware of it all.” Fehr’s voice was sharp, full of warning. “Command is willing to do whatever is necessary to achieve their goal. They’re not bound by morals and ethics. They’re willing to damn themselves for their cause.”

It wasn’t news to Kazi, and yet the seriousness lining Fehr’s features—the way her eyes darted around the café, as if she feared someone was listening or watching—sent a shiver of unease down her spine. Surreptitiously, she reconsidered their surroundings, noting each person present.

“Command believes in playing by the Empire’s rules,” Fehr said, “and they will sacrifice anyone.”

Disregarding the erratic falter of her heart, Kazi lounged back in her chair, forcing herself to appear detached. Unflappable. “Are you threatening me?”

“I’m warning you.” Fehr glanced at the street, her lips pressing together. “Don’t upset Command.”

“I wasn’t planning on it.”

“What about the clones?”

Her eyes narrowed. “What of them?”

Fehr started to speak and then paused, her gaze sweeping across Kazi’s face. “The clones made demands during negotiations.”

“I was there.”

“We renewed negotiations a month and a half ago. Bash, Carinthia, and me, along with the three commanders.”

She blinked her bewilderment. “Why?”

“They had certain demands and we felt you weren’t needed.” The woman seemed unsurprised by Kazi’s irritation, finishing her drink with an uncaring grace. She tilted her head to the side. “I wasn’t aware you had grown so close to them.”

Kazi chuckled bitterly. “Cohabitation will do that to people.”

“One of the clones’ demands was to release you from your work for the network.” Kazi dug her fingernails into her thigh, trying hard to hide her shock. It must not have worked because Fehr offered her a small, tired smile. “Bash struck it down but the clones were persistent. We came to an agreement: The work we requested of you would be vetted and approved by the clones first.”

Looking away, toward the black panther statue prowling the Square’s fountain, Kazi mulled the news, clamping down on her annoyance. Of course Wolffe would interfere without telling her. Of course he would ignore her requests to stay out of her business.

“This angered Command,” Kazi assumed.

“Command doesn’t know the entirety of the story.” At her nonplussed frown, Fehr released a heavy sigh. “The network’s most recent actions have…bothered me.”

“Is that so?” She ran a finger along the side of her mug. “Have you realized they’ll sacrifice you for their cause? That they’ll do it without even hesitating?”

“I joined the network out of a self-righteous desire to save the galaxy,” Fehr said. “A year ago, the network was small and confined, dedicated to undermining the Empire. But we had morals—we had lines we wouldn’t cross.”

Kazi nodded in understanding. The beginnings of rebellions were always simple, numbered with people willing to make immediate sacrifice for the long term. But as weeks turned into months, and months turned into years, one thing became clear: You couldn’t win through morals and ethics.

Most people never realized the true cost of rebellion. The cost of yourself. Because war—rebellion—required apathetic decision-making and a willingness to set aside personal ethics for a greater good.

“I saw people hurting,” Fehr said. “And I was willing to do what was necessary to undermine the Empire. I didn’t question the actions of the new leadership.” She searched the Square once more and then lowered her voice to a whisper. “There are fanatics in the network. Bash is one of them. I will do what I can do to protect you and your family, but don’t cause trouble, Kazi, and tell the clones to lay low.”

The sheer vehemence in Fehr’s tone, her constant vigilance, unnerved Kazi. Unease slithered beneath her skin and she flattened her hands beneath her thighs to mask their shaking. “Is Bash going to reveal the men?”

“Their intel is too good to lose.” Fehr wrapped the remaining piece of cinnamon bread in a napkin. “So long as they remain necessary, they’re safe.”

All this time and Kazi hadn’t considered the precarity of the men’s situation with the network. And now, knowing Wolffe intervened—knowing the men were painting targets on their backs because of her—was both frustrating and disquieting. The network was her problem. Not theirs.

“Commander Wolffe seems…protective.” The comment drew her from her musings and Kazi tensed, throwing Fehr a bland look. Shrewd assessment narrowed the older woman’s gaze. “How are you getting along?”

“Fine,” Kazi remarked.

Fehr studied her for a long, quiet moment, her expression akin to sympathy. The woman chuckled and pushed herself to her feet, setting a handful of credits atop the table.

“Solitude is a lovely thing,” Fehr said conversationally. “And more people should appreciate its beauty.” She levelled Kazi with a hard look. “Solitude feels safe and empowering. But spend too much time alone, and you’ll have to ask yourself: Is your solitude freeing, or is it lonely?”

Frowning, Kazi eyed the woman before her.

Fehr smiled tightly. “I never opened myself to the possibility of being vulnerable with someone. Of loving someone. And I regret being so afraid.”

Half an hour later, still seated alone at the bustling café’s table, Kazi searched the sunrise for an answer to a question she refused to ask herself.

I regret being so afraid.

The phrase whispered in her ear like a haunting ghost. She hated the whisper; hated the hopelessness in the words; hated her understanding.

Kazi watched the arcing sun for a long time.

“I can read to you.” The offer was out of her mouth before Kazi could consider its merit, and she winced, biting the inside of her cheek to mask her embarrassment.

Cuddling the stuffed animal Cody gifted her a week ago, Neyti looked up from the half-open book on her lap, surprise furrowing her eyebrows.

It was later than usual, far past Neyti’s bedtime. But, since the men spent the late evening outside indulging in an expensive bourbon Fox had stolen from the last base they infiltrated, Kazi decided to make the night fun for Neyti, too.

Together, she, Neyti, and Daria baked a cherry pie, and they enjoyed it while watching a holofilm Neyti chose. A popular film about a fox and a hound. One of Kazi’s favorites.

Grinning, Neyti scooted to the edge of her bed and patted the vacated seat. Kazi chuckled her relief, settling into the pillows.

“Where do we start?” she asked. Neyti flipped the pages to the latter half of the book, and Kazi smiled, starting on the new story. “Once upon a time there was a princess.”

Five minutes later and Neyti was deep asleep, her stuffed whale cocooned between her arms.

A bookmark placed for tomorrow night, Kazi pressed a light kiss to Neyti’s forehead, turned off the lights, and returned downstairs.

The front door’s lock was checked. The living room and kitchen’s windows’ curtains were closed. The couch blanket was folded. Pillows were fluffed. From an open window in the sunroom, the hum of nocturnal bugs thrummed, and as Kazi started to pull the curtains together, she paused.

The men were sparring.

Shirtless, sweat slicking their skin beneath the moons’ light, Wolffe and Fox circled one another. The former sported a cut to his lip and the latter a bluing bruise on his cheek. Fox said something—a taunt based on Cody and Nova’s laughter—and Wolffe grinned, his teeth bloody. A sharp jab earned a harsh huff from Fox.

Kazi shook her head, but she didn’t look away.

Chests heaving, the two men exchanged punches. A jab at Fox’s ribs turned into a punch at Wolffe’s stomach.

Blood trickled down Wolffe’s chin and he spat a wad of it into the ferns. It was a feint. And Fox fell for it. Wolffe threw him to the ground. Cody called the match.

The men started for the house and, hastily, Kazi turned her attention to folding an already folded-blanket. The back door swung open. Wolffe and Fox moved to the partition separating the sunroom and living area. They both paused, standing together, their murmurs quiet. An effective barrier to her escape.

Sighing her exasperation, Kazi straightened Wolffe’s puzzle, mindful of his color-coordinated piece groupings. Cody and Nova trudged into the house, bid her goodnight, and left.

The sunroom was tidy—someone had recently cleaned, and it wasn’t her, which was confusing—and she glanced at Wolffe and Fox. Either noticing her stare or finished with their conversation, they broke apart. Fox clapped Wolffe on the shoulder, winked at Kazi, and then followed his two other brothers.

Kazi and Wolffe were alone.

It wasn’t a novel situation; they spent lots of time alone, considering their morning routines overlapped. But something about tonight—something about the calculation in Wolffe’s gaze—made her well aware of their aloneness.

Wolffe approached her, the top clasps of his shirt unfastened and his sleeves carelessly rolled to his elbows. His lip was slightly swollen; a hint of blood darkened the corner of his mouth. Nighttime shadows complemented his appearance, emphasizing the strength of his jaw and the black of his hair, caressing the veins of his forearms and the muscles in his neck.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Wolffe said.

The warmth of his voice told her he was teasing, and a smile tugged at her mouth, the urge more common these days. She rubbed her arm, awkwardly trying to scrub away the truth. The truth that he made her smile.

“I haven’t planted the seeds you gave me.” She angled her chin to the packet sitting on the game table beside his puzzle. The packet she had brought downstairs before the holofilm. “I wasn’t sure if they had specific instructions, and I didn’t want—”

“I can show you.” Wolffe closed the distance between them. The beginning of a smirk revealed itself. “I’ll go slow for you.”

“How magnanimous.” She rolled her eyes to hide her amusement.

Apparently Wolffe had been waiting for her request because he was quick to retrieve a large black pot from the garage. A pot he purchased weeks ago. It was large enough to house a lissome tree, and heavy enough he grunted from exertion as he set it beside a window.

Kazi stood back, shifting between her feet, wanting to help but not wanting to get in his way. Wolffe left a second time and returned with a nine-kilogram bag.

“It protects against disease,” he said, noticing her subtle attempt to read the fertilizer’s package. “This plant isn’t native. And it struggles to survive outside its home planet. The fertilizer should strengthen it.”

Bemused by the plant’s history, Kazi considered the tiny seeds in her palm. “What is it?”

Wolffe ignored her question, and she decided not to press him, sprinkling the seeds into the soil. Together, they buried the seeds. The soil was cool to her hands, drier than Eluca’s natural soil and it smelt familiar—

A flash of lightning splintered the black sky. Thunder roared, a lulling echo across the jungle’s hills.

Chilled dirt clumped her palms and Kazi sat back on her haunches, wiping her hands clean with a rag Wolffe tossed her. She watched him clean his own hands. “When were you going to tell me about your deal with the network?”

His shoulders grew rigid; annoyance clenched in his jaw. Wary eyes met hers. “Who told you?”

“That was dangerous,” she said, bypassing his question. “You now have targets on your backs—”

“It’s not your concern.” Wolffe continued to wipe his hands on the dirty rag. “We knew the risks. The reward outweighed them.”

“Why would you do that? Why would you interfere?” She frowned at him. “You don’t owe us anything. You shouldn’t risk your lives for us.”

Slowly, Wolffe folded the rag and set it atop the table, levelling the full weight of his gaze on her. His expression was unapologetic. Unflinching. “Why do you think I did it?”

“I don’t know.” She curled her fingers into the brim of the pot, trying to steady the increasing beat of her heart. She didn’t want to assume things—she refused to assume things. “I don’t…”

“You’re intelligent, Ennari. You’re a brilliant analyst.” Wolffe ran his tongue along his teeth. “And yet you’re fucking oblivious”—he shook his head—“Never mind.”

Sighing, he raked a hand through his hair and pushed himself to his feet, leaving her alone. The sound of the kitchen sink drifted to the sunroom.

Kazi moved to the windows. Loosening her braids and slipping the ties into a pocket, she watched the electric storm outside. Flashes of lightning burst; the clouds they hid behind glowed eerily.

It seemed nature roiled with its emotions. Kazi could relate.

Soft footfalls alerted her to Wolffe’s return.

The silence between them hesitated, teetering with unspoken confessions.

Wolffe stood close enough their arms brushed. The back of his hand grazed hers.

“We had storms like this. On Kamino,” he said quietly. “When I was young, I thought the waves would swallow our building and we’d drown. I woke up early every morning to practice my swimming in case it happened.”

“Always so prepared,” she murmured.

“I like to be.” He rolled his shoulders back. “I don’t like to enter a situation without knowing my advantages and my opponent’s strengths. I assess the complications and calculate the risk and reward. Only then do I make a decision.”

Another flicker of lightning seared the sky but her eyes remained on Wolffe.

“I don’t want to pretend anymore.” Tentatively, he lifted a hand to her face, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t want to pretend I’m not interested in you.”

Her hands started to tremble.

“I want to try things,” he said.

His tone was resolute in his decision, but she detected a modicum of vulnerability. A hint of fear.

Cottony panic suffocated her lungs.

Yearning, soft as an embrace yet insistent as a kiss, urged her forward.

But she couldn’t move.

Such cold, teeth-aching fear swallowed her, a creature of dark pits latched onto her ankle and dragging her far, far below. She looked away, out the window at the harshening lightning.

Because she couldn’t bear the intensity of his gaze. The unspoken desires. The gentle promises.

“Look at me.”

Her heart cowered in her chest and she shook her head. She wasn’t meant for the softness in his voice, the longing in his eyes.

She was meant to be alone. Solitude couldn’t hurt her.

Solitude would never abandon her.

“Look at me.”

His tone was harder yet still gentle, like a steadying hand on an elbow. No longer a request, it was a command. An order.

But to look him in the eye would quiet her doubts and unleash the yearning she was struggling to withhold. It was escaping, a rope burning her palms as the control of her head gave way to the want of her heart.

She was scared. She was so fucking scared.

“Kazi.” He said her name like it was a question and an answer; he said it in such a soft, intimate way she wanted to run far, far away.

Two fingers tilted her chin back and forced her to meet his gaze. His thumb slid along her jaw and she shivered.

“You’re overthinking things,” Wolffe said calmly. He cupped her face, his thumb grazing her cheekbone. The expression on his face was steady. An anchor for the worst of a storm. “Trust me with this.”

“I don’t know how to,” she whispered.

“I know.” Softly, a hand palmed her waist and Wolffe lowered his face to hers. “But I’ve got you.”

“You don’t want this.”

He released a hoarse scoff. “You have no idea what I want.”

Their lips brushed, the barest of a grazing, and Kazi angled her head back, wanting more yet withholding herself. Wolffe paused. A mere hairsbreadth separated their faces, and she leaned forward, just enough their lips touched, her lashes fluttering as she sighed.

An unspoken permission; an unspoken request.

Wolffe moved, his mouth skimming hers. He pulled back a fraction. Their eyes met, and he closed the distance, seeking her, his upper lip embracing her cupid’s bow.

He was soft, chaste in his intent.

Warmth flushed her cheeks, honeyed and thick, and, gods, she wanted more. Needed more. She reached for his bicep, squeezing him, feeling the sheer corporeality of him. His muscles tensed beneath her touch, and Wolffe gripped her waist harder, his fingers slipping beneath her sweater. They were coarse against the skin of her lower back, exploring her spine, touching and grasping and desperate.

Desire quivered through her body and she snagged his belt. Pulled him closer. Pulled him flush to her body.

Wolffe released a low groan that had her nipples tingling. The restraint he exercised—the control of his kiss, the careful patience in his touches—snapped. He kissed her harder, and Kazi clung to the back of his neck, silently begging for him to stay. To not let go. To taste her and pleasure her and know her.

The hand on her cheek drifted beneath her jaw, hooking. Gentle possessiveness flexed in his fingers. Wolffe teased the seam of her mouth, and she parted her lips, his tongue brushing hers, light and cautious, a playful plea to indulge. So she did, flicking the tip of her tongue to his.

At her gasp for air, Wolffe moved lower, kissing beneath her jaw, trailing light touches down her neck while guiding her backwards. Her back hit the windows and she tilted her head back, sighing at the ardent press of his mouth to her throat. He reached her collarbone and sucked on her skin, sucked and bit.

Heat thrummed in her blood; her breasts were heavy, tight with need. She played with the soft curls at the nape of his neck, shuddering and gasping as Wolffe sucked on the joint between her neck and shoulder. Desperation groaned against her skin and Wolffe pressed her fully against the window, the hand on her neck trembling.

Their breaths were heavy when Wolffe leaned back, just enough to stare her in the eye. Darkened desire, near feral in its intent, contrasted the gentle brush of his thumb beneath her jaw.

Wolffe kissed her again. Slower, deeper. She could feel him smiling against her lips, and her own smile answered in return.

With each of his kisses, with each curious, slow stroke of their tongues, Kazi wanted more. She wanted to feel him—to feel his skin against hers, to feel the shiver in his muscles as she touched him, to feel the heat of his body consuming her. She wanted his naked body pressed to hers, his arms around her and his legs entangled with hers until their bodies were inseparable.

She wanted all of him, and it was so, so wrong of her.

Nestling a palm between the unbuttoned clasps of his shirt, Kazi flattened her hand to Wolffe’s chest. Heated skin licked at her fingers. The rapid beat of his heart kissed her palm.

Even though the touch was minimal, Wolffe moaned a ragged “Fuck.”

The rasp of his voice was hoarse and he ground his hips into her stomach. He was hard, and the feel of him—the reminder of what they were doing—made her pull away. Wolffe lowered his gaze to the spot where he was grinding against her. His breaths were uneven, and he slotted a thigh between her legs, pressed it against her—

“Oh.” A jolt of pleasure, sharp and acute, ached between her legs and Kazi smacked the back of her head against the window.

“Ah, fuck.” Wolffe moved his thigh against her, his eyes half-hooded. “I’ve wanted—”

He cut himself off and kissed her. Kissed her with such need she was lost in him. Lost to his touches and unspoken demands for her attention.

The steady pressure of his thigh rubbed her harder. She moaned against his mouth, rolling her hips against him, seeking the relief he was providing. Uncontrollable thrusts rolled into her stomach and she slid her hand between their bodies, squeezing his cock.

“Fuck,” Wolffe hissed, jerking into her palm.

She watched him, watched the bob in his throat and the way his lashes fluttered, as she squeezed him harder. His groan, strained and pained, made her smile.

Distantly, she wondered if she got him off now, maybe he wouldn’t want to have sex. Maybe this would be enough for him, and then tomorrow, when she was thinking clearer, she could figure out what the fuck she was doing. Because the thought of sex—

Wolffe grabbed her wrist, pulling her away from his cock. She frowned at him.

“Will you…” He searched her face, swallowing. His gaze dropped to her mouth and he cleared his throat, inhaling a harsh breath. A subtle guardedness sharpened his eyes. “Will you regret this tomorrow?”

“No,” she said. And it was the truth—she could never regret him. “Will you?”

A small, sad smile curved his mouth.

“Never,” he murmured. “Never, Kazi.”

He pressed his forehead against hers, his hands clinging to her waist like he feared she might try to run.

It was late and she was tired and she wasn’t thinking, but she wanted him because it was only him she trusted; and she was so desperate for him to see her and choose her; and she needed to know that maybe she wasn’t so unlovable. That maybe this man she yearned for perhaps yearned a little for her too.

So she closed her eyes and, just for this moment, allowed herself to rest in the secure warmth of his presence, her hand still flattened to his chest. The beat of his heart caressed her palm, like the echo of a promise to his words.

Soon, though, Wolffe tensed beneath her hands, pulling his forehead from hers. He looked over his shoulder, his head cocked to the side, and then he straightened. A muscle flexed in his jaw and he glanced her over, adjusting her shirt, flattening a few pieces of her hair.

Understanding his intent, she buttoned his shirt. He hastily adjusted himself. They stepped apart just as Cody stalked into the room. Fox and Nova followed, the former glancing between her and Wolffe, suspicion furrowing his brows.

Tension radiated from the three men as palpable as Eluca’s humidity. Clenched jaws. Squared shoulders. Narrowed eyes.

Their unease made Kazi stiffen; her stomach coiled with apprehension.

“What happened,” Wolffe demanded.

“Just received an alert from Rex.” Disappointment hardened Cody’s voice and he nodded at the window. “See for yourself.”

Fisting her hands to hide their trembling, Kazi looked outside. Her heart stumbled to a halt.

For outside, bracketed by brilliant flashes of lightning, hung a Star Destroyer.

The Empire had arrived.

Masterlist | Chapter 15 | Chapter 17

A/N: I will be taking the next two weeks off to allow myself some time to relax between chapter postings. Thank you for understanding. PS: We're halfway through this story!

Next chapter release – May 9th

Tag: @ulchabhangorm

#I Yearn and so I Fear #commander wolffe x oc: kazi ennari #commander wolffe x ofc #commander wolffe #oc: kazi ennari #commander wolffe fanfiction #commander wolffe fan fiction #star wars fanfiction #star wars fan fiction

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mrs2224 · 1 year

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Pieces - Chapter 5

Chapter 5

AO3 Link

Pairing: Commander Wolffe/OC Issa Straun

Warnings: Swearing, drinking.

Word Count - 9.2k

A/N: ALRIGHT NERDS! I'M BACK HAHAHAHA.

After what feels like the world's longest hiatus, my personal life is back on track and this fic is ticking over once again. To apologise for my absence may I present a 9k chapter that I spent far too long agonising over. Biggest of thank yous to @wild-karrde - Karrde my friend, you are the reason this fic continues to live, thank you for all your help, advice, and for battling through my lack of commas <3, one day I will learn 😁.

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Steam clouded Issa’s lenses as she wrapped her thin hands around the mug of tea before her, lifting the red liquid to her lips. The Jedi took a sip and gave a content sigh as the warm drink did its work of fighting off the cool from the ship’s air supply.

It was her first moment of peace in little over a month she realised. The fighting on Antar 4 had been relentless, and the only reason for the battalion’s sudden respite was the fact that their initial campaign had been a success. They’d managed to push the Separatists out of the main city, and established a secure perimeter to keep them out, which gave Antar 4’s elected government the chance to begin their defence efforts against the local terrorists. There were a few moments where things had been tight and times when casualties had been higher than anticipated, but overall, their success had been noted by the Jedi Council and higher ups in the GAR.

That recognition is what led them to this point, being aboard the Triumphant and heading back to Coruscant. It seemed now that the 104th had proven themselves, Issa, her master and the battalion were being reassigned to a more pressing fight in the war.

This morning they’d welcomed the 182nd Legion and their general, Master Kolar. They spent a few hours bringing them up to speed on their surroundings before beginning the process of packing up and shipping out. It’d been a long day, but the troops were looking forward to sleeping in their own bunks again on the Venator.

As was she.

Fighting on the frontlines of a war was something Issa had truly had to experience in order to gain some semblance of understanding of what it would be like. Words and stories didn’t hold a candle to the real thing. It’d been grinding, dirty, and exhausting to the bone. The fear and uncertainty she felt each time she got a chance to close her eyes pushed rest and ease far from her mind.

It had been an odd feeling, not being able to slow her mind for such an extended period of time. Everything had felt thrown together and reactive, no matter how long they’d spent hunched over a holotable, strategising into the early hours of the morning. The Pantoran also didn't remember a time when she’d been among other people’s company for so long, having spent years in the calm and steady presence of only Master Plo on their extended research missions. She’d always found solace on her own, in her own safe spaces where she could unwind. But out there, she’d had no escape, especially with every sense being pushed to the extremes. It’d been overwhelming to say the least.

But, in spite of it all, she and a majority of their men survived.

We’re still here.

Since they’d returned to the Triumphant, Plo had given her the green light to retreat to her quarters to take stock of herself and what they’d all been through together the past month, while still fulfilling her new command duties but from a distance. It’d been a couple of days since she’d seen anyone really, but it had helped, so she was thankful for her Master’s understanding as always.

Having gotten used to sleeping for short bursts while on the frontlines, Issa was struggling to readjust back to a normal sleeping pattern. She’d spent a good hour that night tossing and turning in her bunk before giving up and hunkering down in the mess hall with a cup of tea and a few datapads.

Might as well use the time to get some new scenery and do some work.

As another smooth sip of tea warmed her throat, it hit Issa that it’d been nearly a year since the last time she’d had this particular blend, and for a moment she was transported back in time. She was back in Obi-Wan’s quarters at the temple with him and one of her closest friends, Anakin. The Jedi Master was a connoisseur of teas from around the galaxy, always trying to stop off and pick up different recipes while away on missions. He’d been particularly excited about the one he’d finally managed to source from a small village on Karlinus. The three of them sat in his sparse room while the steam of freshly boiled water drifted through the small space, quietly chatting and joking amongst themselves. She remembered Anakin’s face behind his Master’s back as he grimaced at the drink’s sweet taste, sticking his tongue out dramatically in a way he knew would have Issa chuckling. He'd always been one who sought out the more bitter flavours in life, like the ten cups of caf he drank each day.

With a knowing smile as he turned back around to the pair, Obi-Wan shook his head as he caught the way Anakin tried to hide his reaction from him. “I feel as though your palate might be a lost cause, my Padawan.”

The Pantoran smiled, shaking her head in amusement at the memory of Anakin’s failed antics. Issa couldn’t believe that the young Jedi she’d spent half her life training alongside had recently been promoted to the rank of Knight, making history as one of the youngest in the Order aged just nineteen. She was truly proud of her friend. It seemed he was truly destined for greatness, and Issa could think of no one more deserving. I’ll have to congratulate Obi-Wan on finally being free of his Padawan too.

As the feeling of nostalgia settled in warmly within her chest, Issa placed down her cup and grabbed her abandoned stylus so she could continue her notes on Antar 4. She’d been studying a battle plan when the door to the mess swished open. Issa noticed someone paused in the doorway for a moment before entering the room with a huff. “What are you doing up?” the new entrant questioned.

“Hello to you too, Wolffe,” Issa replied, not lifting her eyes from the work before her. “I’m going over those strategies we drew up with Book and Master Plo. I want to make sure I know them inside and out for the briefing on Coruscant.”

“Well you’re not going to be of any use to us half dead on your feet. You should get some sleep.”

“Could say the same to you, Commander. What are you doing up?”

Wolffe just grunted at her before making his way over to the caf machine and pouring himself a strong cup. Still maintaining his silence, he leaned back against the counter and stared down into the dark liquid before him. Issa chanced a moment to look her commander over. He was clad in his black body glove he usually wore under his armour, and his eyes were heavy with the beginnings of dark circles blooming beneath them. Her eyes traced up to his hair, which was slightly mussed, and his frown was even more downturned than usual, which was really saying something.

Wolffe had something on his mind, that much was obvious. Though it was also kyber clear that he didn’t come in here to talk. In fact, he was surprised to have seen her, which meant he’d likely been looking for some solitude.

Do I check on him anyway? Issa asked herself. She knew she would likely be met with a biting response demanding she mind her own business, but as her eyes flitted over to Wolffe once more, his sombre expression gave her the final push of concern she needed.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she offered quietly, averting her eyes so that they remained firmly on the datapads before her so as to not put him off with any unwanted attention. Issa and Wolffe weren’t exactly close. The clone commander was rather rough around the edges, and they were still finding their feet with whatever working relationship they were forging, which added a nice layer of uncertainty to many interactions between them.

“No,” Wolffe grumbled. Though he didn’t say anything else, which was more positive than Issa was expecting.

“Okay.”

Maker, this is awkward.

With a small nod, Issa pushed her frames higher up her nose and returned to her work while Wolffe began sipping at his hot caf. A good few minutes went by, and they settled into a rocky silence while Issa lost herself in strategies and plans. She became so engrossed in the data before her that when Wolffe spoke, she nearly jumped out of her skin.

“We lost some good men in that last battle.” Wolffe’s voice wasn’t loud. In fact, it could probably be called a whisper, but that didn’t stop it from feeling like he’d shouted into the quiet room.

Issa knew her eyes had widened in shock, confused and relieved that Wolffe was actually talking about what was bothering him. She peered up at him through her lenses and settled the datapads away from her, giving the commander her full attention. “We did. Wrexler, Vick, Kip, Dino and Zander were all great guys.”

Now it was Wolffe’s turn to look shocked. “You remember all their names?”

“Of course. Master Plo and I said we’d learn everyone’s names that first day we all met. We don’t say things we don’t mean. You’re people Wolffe, not droids. The lives we lose aren’t so easily swept away for us either you know.” Wolffe grunted again and fell silent, staring back into the mug in his hand as if it held the answers to whatever questions he was torturing himself with.

Feeling brave and maybe stupid, Issa took a steadying breath before choosing her next words carefully. “Do you… blame yourself?”

Wolffe’s eyes shot up to meet hers, his amber irises burning with something she couldn’t pinpoint, making Issa swallow. Shit, okay too far. Feeling her face flush with embarrassment, she held her hands up in an apologetic manner. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep.” Great, that’ll set us back nicely. Smooth Straun.

As Issa mentally kicked herself, she noticed that something in her reaction to his heated gaze had caused Wolffe’s frustration at her to cool. His glare softened, and he averted his eyes to stare at the wall to his side as if it was suddenly the most interesting thing in the galaxy while bouncing his leg ever so slightly.

“Yes,” he eventually replied, biting the word out as if it went against everything in him to utter it. It took Issa a moment to realise he was responding to her question. So he does blame himself. Wolffe continued. “I’m their Commander, my choices lead to their deaths. I’m the person who's supposed to protect them.”

“That’s not your job alone, Wolffe. If that’s your logic, Plo and I are equally as to blame as you.”

“It’s different.”

“How so?” she asked. Her question wasn’t fuelled by impatience or frustration at Wolffe’s mindset but by genuine curiosity. Issa wanted to understand exactly the reason why he was putting this responsibility solely on his shoulders.

“Because you’re not one of us,” he snapped, eyes burning brightly once more. His harsh tone appeared to be an accident as a sliver of regret slipped onto his features while he flexed his jaw.

Issa gave him a soft smile. “It’s okay, I know what you mean. You don’t have to explain yourself. I'm not offended.” Every soldier lost is another member of his family gone, another face identical to his that was taken too soon. “It’s personal for you, I understand.”

Wolffe scoffed and lifted a hand to rub at his jawline, his fingers scraping across the rough, growing stubble there. “I don’t need a lecture on the losses of war, just so you know.”

Issa’s smile grew. “I wasn’t planning on one. I was just going to say that should you ever want to share that burden, Master Plo and I are carrying it as well, maybe in a different way, but we are. We’re here to support you, Wolffe, as much as you are us.” He didn’t have a reply to that, but Issa was happy that she’d been heard. She chanced a look down at the chrono on one of the datapads and realised it was very early in the morning.

“Hey, since we’re both up, fancy a spar? Might help tire you out.”

Wolffe took another sip of his drink with a raised eyebrow. “A spar?”

“What? Don’t think you can handle a Jedi?” Issa teased, which earned her one of Wolffe’s signature eye rolls, slow and exaggerated, and she couldn’t help but chuckle softly at his dramatics.

“Fine. But I'm not explaining to the general why his padawan’s pride is in pieces tomorrow.”

“Understood.”

The pair made their way to the training room. The open space was cast in shadow until the sensors detected their presence and triggered the lights to roll on. In the centre of the hangar was a blue mat, which Issa stepped onto gently. The plastic covering was cool beneath her feet as she stretched her arms above her head, sighing as some of the bones in her back popped. Kriff, I’ve been sitting down for too long. Across from her, Wolffe shook his limbs out and rolled back and forth on the balls of his feet.

“What sort of spar did you have in mind?” he questioned as he pulled an arm behind his back, stretching the Republic cog in the middle of his shirt even further across his broad chest.

Issa shrugged. “You’re my military teacher. I thought you could decide.”

“Fine. Hand-to-hand it is. You know the rules?” Issa shook her head and he continued. “Mostly anything goes, though no career-ending hits, and if your opponent taps three times you let go and the match is over. Clear?”

“As transparisteel.” At her confirmation, Wolffe locked eyes with her and met her in the middle of the mat. The area they were fighting on was rather large; the hangar the mat sat in was designed to house multiple gunships, and the mat itself was almost the size of one. Issa took a steadying breath as she tracked the strong commander in front of her.

“Sure you wanna do this Straun?” Waves of confidence rolled off of the clone as he stepped closer.

“I’m not going to break.”

“Alright.” The word had barely left his lips before he darted forward with a swing of his right fist. Issa managed to duck just in time to miss Wolffe’s punch, but her confusion left her open, which Wolffe utilised by delivering a swift kick to her ribs, winding Issa and forcing her back a few paces.

For someone so bulky, I thought he’d move a hells of a lot slower than that. Unfortunately the universe wasn’t that kind. It seemed the commander had plenty of training on keeping his speed up in a fight. The Pantoran heaved a few ragged breaths before she willed her breathing back under control.

“Sure you want to carry on?” The question was genuine, but the slight upturn on the corner of his lips made Issa bristle.

“Only just getting started, Wolffe.”

They traded blows back and forth fairly evenly from then on, Issa decidedly not underestimating her commander any further. She might not have had military training, but the ways of the Force lended well to combat, and her years at the temple hadn’t all been studying and katas. She’d trained on how to fight without her weapon just as much as she had with it. It was just a skill she hadn’t had to call upon in a real world scenario in a while. As she analysed Wolffe’s movements and opportunities for attack, her training slowly came trickling back on how she could lean on the Force to make her movements more swift, her attacks hit harder, her defensive positions more fortified.

By the time they were bone-tired and sweaty from their fight, Issa had managed to get a few good hits in on the clone commander, including a kick to his cheek that left the skin bright red. Overall, Wolffe had bested her more times and was the clear winner of the fight, but it was progress, both in her training to become a better commander and also in her relationship with Wolffe. This had been the longest the two of them had been left unsupervised, and they were both still talking to each other, which Issa felt was a great victory.

“Not bad, Straun, though you’re thinking too much. I can tell you were holding back at times. You don’t trust yourself. You’ve got to get more comfortable with your abilities if you want to throw your all into a fight.”

“Right.”

“We’ll try again when we stop off on Coruscant, bring a few of the men in so I can point some things out to you.”

“Sounds good. Thanks, Wolffe.” The commander nodded at her and the room descended into silence until an almighty yawn tore its way through Issa before she could stop herself. She met Wolffe’s gaze, a look of exasperated confusion conveyed through his raised eyebrow as she gave a sheepish chuckle.

He huffed at her with a shake of his head. “Let’s go back to the barracks.”

The pair of them walked in silence through the halls of the Triumphant, passing the odd pair of patrols on their way who always stopped to salute their two commanders. Finally they arrived at their neighbouring rooms and bid each other goodnight before Issa collapsed onto her bunk and drifted immediately off to a dreamless sleep.

—

The next day the 104th arrived on Coruscant. Issa, Plo, Wolffe and Admiral Coburn had been holed up in a meeting room for an in-person debrief of the situation on Antar 4. They’d spent hours divulging everything including their findings on the enemy, loss ratios and any future battle plans they had drawn up which could be passed onto the 182nd, who would be taking over the protection of the Republic-aligned moon.

It’d been a long day, but Issa felt confident that she’d been able to contribute to the meeting where appropriate rather than just listening and learning. They’d also been told that they’d be heading to the Outer Rim to Scariff. Apparently the Separatists were planning to build a factory on the planet and were shipping in large portions of materials for the development. The 104th’s job would be to disrupt the delivery of the materials and take out as many of the enemy forces as they could.

Since landing on Antar 4, it felt as though everything had been non-stop for the battalion. They’d barely had a moment's respite in the month they’d been fighting, and it was starting to show among the troops. Thankfully, Plo had convinced the council to extend their layover in the Republic’s capital for an extra couple days, giving the full squad some well-earned downtime.

The news of their first night off had sent shockwaves of celebration through the ranks of the 104th, which warmed Issa’s heart. They’d fought hard in tough terrain and deserved the time to themselves to revel in their victory and remember the brothers they’d lost. What had sweetened the deal even more for the soldiers was that the Republic had created a bar dedicated to the clones right here on Coruscant where they could drink for free and enjoy their downtime in peace amongst their brothers.

The Wolfpack were truly overjoyed with the news of a night partying and had even kindly extended the invite to their two Jedi to join them. However, Plo and Issa decided that the troopers deserved a real night off, away from their natborn commanding officers, as Issa had learned they’d been called.

At the GAR headquarters, Issa was chatting pleasantly with Admiral Coburn as they exited the meeting room, the pair trailing behind Master Plo and Wolffe. The padawan watched as the two men in front of her talked amongst themselves. It was clear to see in Wolffe’s presence how he respected his general, and while Issa was on the road to earning that respect herself, it warmed her to know that Plo had the same effect on other people as he had on her. From her few conversations with Wolffe over the past couple months, Issa had been gaining snippets on Wolffe’s views and the weight of responsibility for his brother’s safety that he shouldered, and it was clear that his trust was rarely given out. Issa was glad he at least had someone of seniority who he could truly put his faith into beyond the respectful level of courtesy he automatically gave as clone commander.

Admiral Coburn cleared his throat politely, drawing the small group to a stop. “Padawan Straun, Master Plo, Commander Wolffe, I’m afraid I will have to bid you a farewell here. Please enjoy the rest of your shore leave and I look forward to our first mission together in a few days.”

“Thank you Admiral, we shall see you soon,” Plo replied, nodding in goodbye as the naval officer turned on his heel and down an adjacent hallway, his shiny black boots clacking on the metallic flooring as he walked away.

“Issa, I believe we should head back to the temple.”

“Yes of cour-'' Issa was cut off by her comm chirping, the light flashing up at her from her vambrace. Her forehead creased as she clicked the button on the device. “This is Commander Straun.”

“Sir, it’s Sinker. We were hoping you could come down to the barracks with Commander Wolffe after your meeting.”

“Do I dare ask why?”

“Probably best you didn’t.” Issa could practically hear Sinker’s smirk on the other end of the line, picturing his silver eyes sparkling in mischief, likely with Boost and TP hanging over his shoulders.

“Alright, we’re finished now so we’ll head down.”

“Well it appears you have other business,” Plo suggested fondly. “Enjoy your evening Commanders.”

Issa’s eyebrows knitted together. “I’ll be back at the temple after this, Master,” she assured.

The Kel Dor said nothing as he inclined his head at the both of them and began walking towards the exit, leaving Issa perplexed. She chanced a look at Wolffe to see if he could elaborate on what had just transpired. Unfortunately all she received was a restrained eye roll before he silently led the way to the turbo lift, leaving her to trail after him.

During the battalion’s stay on Coruscant, their troopers were given bunks at the Guard’s sleeping quarters. The lower levels beneath the HQ practically acted as a clone hotel; there were levels upon levels of rooms for any visiting soldiers to use alongside the resident red and white troopers.

As the lift skid to a halt, the pair stepped out and made their way to where the 104th were staying.

—-------

The slow and deliberate thump of footsteps sounded. Followed by the scrape of something metallic being dragged across the floor.

The man held his breath, hands clamped over his mouth to prevent any sounds from escaping him as the attackers' steps sounded ever closer.

Suddenly all noises came to a halt, and the man could do nothing but wait… Until–

“Booooook, come on it’s going to be morning by the time you put that ‘pad down, vod,” Boost whined as he clipped his now polished vambrace back into place.

The strategist locked his datapad reluctantly and sighed. His perfectly crafted world for his story in his mind had now officially been shattered at the interruption. Can’t get a minute's peace in this place. A heavy weight fell onto the mattress next to him, causing the clone to bounce slightly.

“Yeah Bookworm, we want some attention for a change,” Two-Pint teased, wrapping his arm around his brother’s shoulder and yanking him into his side for a crushing hug.

Book scowled as he fought the stronger man for his freedom, his copper hair ending up more than a little ruffled as he broke away with a half-hearted frown. “You know I hate it when you call me that.”

The heavy gunner grinned. “I do.”

“Come on short-ass, be nice,” Boost challenged with a mischievous smirk, which only widened at Two-Pint’s pout at his own nickname. Serves him right, Book thought smugly.

“Alright alright, reign it in you lot,” Wolffe chided as he made his presence known with a humoured Commander Straun standing at his side.

“Commanders! Perfect timing,” Sinker called out pleasantly as he pulled his gloves on.

With one last ruffle of Book’s hair, TP and Boost moved away to find their boots. The strategist carded a hand through his red curls to try and tame them while his Jedi Commander walked over to take TP’s spot at his side.

The Pantoran bumped his shoulder lightly with her own and gave him a small smile. “Whatcha reading?”

“Ah, it’s nothing, just a thriller novel.” He tried not to sound too deflated, but he couldn’t help it. He loved reading, but moments of jabs with his brothers served to remind him that he was a bit of an outlier in their group. He wasn’t crazy about weapons like TP and Cloud, or strong like Boost and Sinker. Instead he favoured learning and reading as his method of developing his skills as a soldier. Book knew his squad didn’t mean anything by their teasing; it was their way of showing that they cared, but even still, it did a good job of highlighting just how different he was sometimes.

Of course, the Jedi next to him was somehow able to figure all this out without him even having to utter a word. With a gentle look in her eyes behind her lenses, she placed a blue hand at his shoulder bell. “You know, as much as the ‘Pack love to wind you up, your interests are what make you you Book. Your brothers would never want you to change or be ashamed of them. I hope you know that.”

“Yeah… I know.” He gave a small smile of thanks. Because he did know. But it was nice to have the reminder every now and then he supposed.

Seemingly content that she’d eased his worries, the Jedi looked up at the rest of the group. Their previously battle-worn armour had been cleaned and polished, not the the point of shininess as each scrape and scuff ingrained in the plastoid was a sign of each battle survived, but clean enough to not be caked with the mud and blood of their last campaign.

“So Sinker, you called?” Issa questioned as she caught the sergeant’s eye.

“Yeah, we’re going out sir, and you’re coming with.”

Still sitting next to Book, Issa sighed. “Guys we went over this-”

“Yeah but we’ve decided to overrule you, so there you have it,” Boost explained, leaving no room for argument.

“We want you to come along, Commander. It’ll be fun. You’re one of us anyway. Your insides were christened with TP’s brew,” Cloud added with a soft smile.

Smirking, Issa replied. “Oh so there is a reward for suffering through that.”

The heavy gunner in question somehow managed to pout even harder, which given his intimidating exterior, only served to make the room chuckle. “Hey! Don’t you all come crying to me when you want a night to unwind.”

“We’re kidding ‘Pint.” Sinker huffed as he threw his arm around his shorter brother’s shoulders and pulled him into a loose headlock.

Eventually the Wolfpack stopped rough housing and were ready to paint the town red, as it were.

—---

79’s was a beacon of life. Neon boards decorated the walls while the sound of laughter and chatter wove through the notes of the heavy bass music reverberating through the venue. The dance floor was already packed, clones and natborns alike dancing their troubles away, connecting with new souls as their inhibitions faded and bodies moved to the beat. At the bar, a group of pilots were sharing a round of shots while a squad of commandos in their heavy duty armour took quiet sanctuary in a booth in the corner, flirting with the beings who’d captured their attention.

Issa couldn’t quite believe that the Republic was providing such a normal place for the troopers to unwind. I suppose it’s the least they can do. After all, they are heroes fighting for the civilians across the galaxy, protecting their way of life.

As the Wolfpack made their way towards an empty table, Issa noticed a few of the patrons whispering as they passed. While most of 79’s was full of plain white armour, she supposed a maroon, wolf-stylised commander and Pantoran Jedi were a bit of a giveaway as to which battalion they were. It seemed their success on Antar 4 had been passed through the other ranks.

Next to her, Boost nudged her with his elbow, smirking. “How’s it feel to be famous, Commander?”

“Famous is a bit of a stretch.” Issa rolled her eyes at the sergeant who chuckled next to her.

“I don’t think that’ll be our last big win, so you best start getting used to it.”

Once the group had settled in their spot, Issa had offered to get the troopers their first round of drinks, allowing them to relax for a moment while she navigated the sea of bodies to reach the bar. After finally clearing a space for herself to lean forwards, the Pantoran drummed her fingers on the neon surface as she waited to be served. She was minding her own business until the being next to her gave her a nudge, knocking the Jedi off balance. Frustrated at the person’s lack of awareness, she spun around to confront them. That was her plan at least, but unfortunately the person she came face to face to made her pause, her fiery words dying on her tongue.

“Quin? What are you doing here?” Issa breathed.

There he was, Quinlan Vos, Jedi Master and Shadow, back from his extended mission like he hadn’t just disappeared for a year without a word. It’d been a while, but it appeared his flare for the dramatic hadn’t changed.

“Issa! I was supposed to meet Aayla but she got stuck doing General things, so I stayed for the free booze and pleasant scenery. Fancy seeing you here.” His honesty and cheeky smile were so familiar that it nearly made her heart ache. It’d been too long since she’d last had a chance to spend time with her friend and despite all of his bravado, Issa had missed him dearly. He looked well, a few new scars littered his bare upper arms and his dreadlocks had grown, extending to his jawline, but he was in one piece. A weight the Pantoran didn’t know she had been carrying suddenly lightened, and she smiled fondly at the Kiffar’s antics.

“The drinks aren’t free for you, you know,” she chided.

“Ah but surely they’ll have to take pity on a poor religious figure like me. Remember young Padawan, Jedi can have no attachments, which means no material items, which means no credits to buy those items, which means free watered-down Corellian ale,” Vos explained while lifting his drink in the air in a ‘cheers’ motion before taking a satisfied sip.

“That’s not how that works, and you’re incorrigible.”

“Thank you,” Quin replied with a beaming smile of pride.

Without another word, Issa launched herself at the man, locking her arms tightly around his neck and catching him by surprise. “I’m glad you’re home safe.”

Issa felt it as Quinlan relaxed in her hold and wrapped his own glove-clad arms around her middle, smiling into her shoulder. “Missed you too, kid.”

Issa was finally able to place her order and while she waited, she spent the time catching up with the man she’d come to look up to as a brother. His mission had been a success, as they always were, and he managed to take down a critical drug ring in the outskirts of the Mid-Rim.

Smiling with pride, Issa nudged the man beside her. “Sounds like another job well done.”

“Yeah, it went about as well as the Council would allow.” The end of his sentence was slightly muffled as he lifted his glass to his lips, but Issa heard him all the same.

She took a moment, trying to unpick the meaning hidden in Quin’s words. “The Council? I thought you were heading this as a Shadow?”

“Let’s just say if it was up to me, I’d still be out there.”

“Why?” Issa’s brows were furrowed as she tried to navigate Quinlan’s vague hints.

The Shadow Jedi seemed to have noticed her questioning look and snapped out of his mood with a heavy sigh. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring the mood down. Let’s talk about something else. How’s the war going, Commander?”

His sudden change of topics perplexed Issa. Whatever Vos found at the end of his assignment had him on edge, and seemed to be straining his already tenuous relationship with some members of the council. Not wanting to spark a debate about the politics of the Order at that moment, Issa let him off the hook for now and launched into her experiences of leading an army for the past month.

“You’ll have to come meet the Wolfpack. They’ve heard all about you.”

“All flattering things I presume.” Just as Issa went to reply, a light began blinking on Quin’s forearm, pulling his attention. “Ah I better get this, but I’ll see you over there in a bit.”

While Vos trudged through the many bodies to an exit, a striking Mirialan placed a tray of drinks in front of her, which Issa took with a quick ‘thank you’ to the bartender before using all her concentration to avoid spilling the ale as she finally reached the 104th’s table for the evening.

Now that everyone had a drink in hand, the Pantoran allowed herself the chance to relax, sliding into the spot Sinker had made for her at the edge of the booth, facing Wolffe across the other side of the table. His permanent frown was unsurprisingly still in place, but it was slightly softer than usual which was nice to see. This may be as relaxed as I'll ever see him.

After a round of ‘cheers’ and the first few sips of their drinks, they asked about Quin after having seen the two of them during their reunion.

“Do all Jedi make fashion choices alarmingly unsuitable for battlefields?” Wolffe cut in sarcastically, making Issa bark out a laugh she wasn’t expecting, nearly choking on her drink.

“Actually if Quin had his way, he would probably rather have a lot more of himself on display, but he needs things like the gloves he wears to prevent accidental use of his Psychometry. It’s a power that lets him see impressions or events tied to an object based on who’s touched or used it previously. As you can imagine, that can get quite invasive quite quickly.”

“Woah, can you do that?”

“Unfortunately not. Jedi all have similar basic skill sets, the standard things we’re taught at the temple, but some of us excel further in some areas or are born with special abilities. Quin was born with Psychometry. It’s a common gift among Kiffars, and it runs in his family. He’s grown incredibly skilled in it, but it can be quite overwhelming at times, hence the gloves. While psychometry is one example, some Jedi have been known to have deep connections with animals, plants, space matter and even technology, making them easier to read or utilise with the Force.”

“Have you got a fancy skill, sir?”

“I’ve always been quite good at illusions. In fact it’ll probably start to come in handy during the war so I’ve been working with Master Plo on pushing my skills a bit quicker than we normally would.”

Wolffe raised a suspicious eyebrow. “What do you mean by illusions?”

“Care to be a volunteer and find out?” At Issa’s challenge and smirk, Wolffe scoffed.

“Fine.” He was clearly intrigued but trying his damndest not to show it. The Jedi humoured him and took his feigned indifference as consent for her demonstration.

Issa closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Using all her concentration, she manipulated the molecules around her using the Force, picturing as each one shifted and changed to mimic the image she set in her mind. As she let the air out of her lungs, she allowed her eyes to flutter open once more and took in the clones surrounding her.

“No way.”

Issa spared a look down at herself, and sure enough, she was clad in white and maroon plastoid, the skin of her hands no longer blue, but a beautiful tan.

“That’s creepy, two Wolffes is the stuff of nightmares, turn it off!” Two-Pint squealed as he tried to hide behind Book, who rolled his eyes at the heavy gunner.

Vos chose that moment to slide into the Wolfpack’s booth, smirking and elbowing Issa in her side, breaking her concentration and shattering the illusion. “I see you’re doing your-” Quin paused to do a little waggle of his fingers, “-magic show.”

Huffing, Issa shoved the Kiffar back, making him chuckle and throw an arm around her shoulder. “Yeah well we can’t all read emotions like you. Gotta find my ways to be useful somehow.”

Quin then infuriatingly chose that moment to ruffle her hair, making her bristle slightly in annoyance as her troopers chuckled, Wolffe notably was taking great joy in her embarrassment at the hands of the Shadow as he smirked slightly behind his glass.

“When I tell you guys that your commander got us into some trouble over the years at the temple using those little tricks of hers.”

“Ha! I knew I liked you sir!” Two-Pint exclaimed with a beaming grin.

Soon introductions were made, and the rest of the evening was spent in pleasant comradery with the Wolfpack and Vos. Issa realised now that she’d been worried about nothing. Spending an evening with her troopers hadn’t seemed to have stopped them from being able to enjoy themselves and relax, and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy spending her free time hanging out with them. They were a fun group; even Wolffe had gradually loosened up ever so slightly as the night dragged on, matching the boisterous energy of his brothers around him as they joked and wound each other up.

It’s nice to see.

—----

Much to Book’s dismay, the Wolfpack and two Jedi had eventually gravitated to the dance floor as the alcohol in their system began to do its work. The strategist had cut himself off a few drinks prior to that, not interested in losing control of himself that evening. Subtly, Book had managed to excuse himself from his dancing battalion, giving him the chance to escape to the sanctuary of the bar where he could take a moment to himself. He even managed to snag an empty stool, pulling himself up and trying to catch a glimpse of one of the bartenders so he could place his order. Unfortunately, it was still fairly busy, so he was left to his own devices for a moment. To keep himself occupied, he spent his time eyeing up the liquor on the back shelf of the bar and trying to guess if he could name each luminous bottle. He’d definitely read up on enough world exports by now to be able to identify most of them, so he began cataloguing each spirit quietly to himself as he waited.

For not the first time that day, the peace in his mind was once again shattered, but instead of the cause being his squad, it was the result of a loud crash of a server droid clattering into one of the beer taps. Every being in the vicinity scattered in fear of being drenched as the tap went up in a dramatic fountain display, leaving the now damp Mirialan bartender to deal with the situation.

“Oh shit oh shit oh shit.” The bartender cursed as the battered ale tap continued to spew everywhere despite them attempting to use their hands to stop the spray. Unfortunately, the tactic only served to push the liquid to the floor as opposed to up in the air.

Looking around and noticing that no one was coming to help, Book pushed off of his stool and walked over to the scene.

“Excuse me, do you-”

“Look I’ll serve you in a sec, can’t you see i’m a bit busy?” the Mirialan snapped, huffing a breath to try and move their damp claret fringe from where it had fallen across their face. The sheer look of concentration as they attempted to fix their predicament caused the black geometric facial tattoos trailing down the centre of their forehead to crease between their brows. Book knew it wasn’t the time or place, but he dared to think that the bartender looked rather cute while flustered.

No, that is not helpful right now. Wise up, Trooper. Book cleared his throat, gearing himself up to try again. “Um, sorry, I was just going to offer some assistance. Your method of stopping the leak isn’t the most efficient. I’m happy to help.”

Those bright green eyes snapped up to his face, and he froze under the sharp gaze. Oh Maker I’ve stuck my foot in it haven’t I?

After a few dragging seconds, they finally relented, nodding behind them towards a cupboard. “Fine, there’s a wrench in there. Once you’re back we can get this sealed off and I’ll start cleaning up this mess.”

Book nodded and set about getting the tool as suggested. He ended up shoulder-to-shoulder with the bartender as he tried to get the pump to seal off while they protected his face from being sprayed with alcohol.

It seemed they made a rather good team as after a few seconds of fiddling, Book managed to stop the flow, making the Mirialan sag in relief as they were finally free to move once again. “Thank the Maker for that… and you, I guess. What’s your name, Trooper?”

“Oh, uh Book, and you are…”

“Jae, Jae Tevv.” They reached a soaked hand out towards him before realising what they’d done and retracting with a nervous chuckle. “So Book, huh? How’d you manage to end up with a name like that?”

“It’s unfortunately very simple. I always had my head in a book while growing up on Kamino.”

“I suppose I should’ve guessed. What kind of books? I’m always looking for some new things to add to my reading list.” Suddenly, Book found himself engaged in the most wonderful conversation about literature as the two of them fell into the flow of working as a team to fix the mess from the broken tap. Jae was incredibly well-read, enjoying a variety of genres that they spoke about with a deep passion. Book was pretty sure he had a dopey smile on his face, but Jae’s enthusiasm was infectious, so who could blame him? He could listen to them talk for hours, their hands gesturing wildly, eyes alight with excitement as they relieved one of their favourite romance novels, clearly excited to finally be able to discuss the story with another reader.

All too soon, the mess was cleaned and Book found himself running out of machinery behind the bar that he could tinker with to prolong their conversation. With a sigh, he slid the wrench back into the borrowed tool box and extended a hand to Jae to help them back to their feet from where they were scrubbing the floor.

“Thank you, Book. Both for the help and the conversation. I think I've finally met my reading match,” Jae said with a kind smile. “Now that the tap’s working again, can I buy you a drink as a thank you, something a bit more upmarket than that cheap beer the Republic is feeding you boys?”

“Ah there’s no need to thank me. Plus I best stop with the drinks now. Someone has to make sure my battalion gets home in one piece, and something tells me it won’t be my commanders.” Book spared a pointed look at his two superiors. Issa was on the dance floor with General Vos, Two-Pint, Sinker, Cloud and Boost, giggling and dancing without a care in the world, her drink sloshing dangerously close to the edges of her cup. Wolffe was seated a few tables away with one human and one Zabrak woman hanging off each arm as the three of them sank a shot each before he sat back and let the two shower him with attention. Jae followed his eyes and chuckled warmly.

“Well… If not a drink, how about dinner?” Their deep emerald eyes sparkled with the offer, making Book swallow nervously as his stomach fluttered. When did my collar get so tight?

“Uh, dinner?” he choked out.

“Yeah, dinner. Give you a chance to eat something that isn’t rations maybe. My treat, I can cook us up something.”

Book felt his face flush bright red as he averted his eyes. “Dinner. Right… yes. Dinner is good. Let’s… let’s do that.”

Jae beamed at him before grabbing his datapad out of his hands and tapping something into the notes. “Great, well, here’s my comm frequency. Drop me a message next time you’re planet-side, or if you have any more books you’d like to recommend in the meantime.”

“Yes… I'll definitely do that. Thank you.”

“No, thank you, Book.” And just when Book thought he couldn’t get anymore flustered, Jae leaned over and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. That was the moment Book’s brain finally short-circuited. “Stay safe out there, I'm holding you to that dinner.”

Jae disappeared across the bar, set on a mission to serve the backed-up requests of orders, leaving Book standing there like a tooka in the headlights as his hand lifted up to ghost over his cheek where Jae had kissed him.

—

It was 0300 by the time Book decided to corral his brothers, Jedi, and apparently General Vos. The Wolfpack and friends collectively stumbled out of the front of 79’s, giggling amongst themselves as TP told another Maker-awful joke.

As the laughter died down, Issa strolled up next to Book and swung an arm over his shoulder. Her dark eyes were sparkling with mischief, and the strategist shook his head in anticipation. “Soooo Book, where did you run off too?”

To his right, Sinker crept up and also threw an arm around him, officially trapping him for their questioning. “Did my eyes decei-” Sinker’s question was abruptly interrupted by a chest-shattering hiccup, “...ow… anyway, did my eyes deceive me, or did I see you talking to that cute bartender?” The silver-haired clone waggled his eyebrows, making the Pantoran to Book’s left cackle loudly in his ear.

“Well actually, I was. And um, I think… I think I’m going on a date?”

At his admission, the whole group paused and spun around to face him. Book felt his face begin to heat under their teasing gaze, and just when he thought it couldn’t get any worse, TP launched himself at him to crush the slighter clone in an almighty hug, knocking his previous two captors aside.

“Look at my little Bookworm, all grown up, going out on dates. It’s so karking cute it nearly brings a tear to my eye,” TP announced loudly while clutching Book to his side and wiping fake tears from his face, making the strategist flush with embarrassment as he shoved the heavy gunner off.

Everyone extended their congratulations to Book and finally continued on their way back to the barracks. As they walked the lower levels, Book chanced a look up to the sky above, littered with the shimmering lights of speeders flying in all directions, and he couldn’t help the smile that grew across his face until his cheeks hurt. Despite the cheeky comments, Book felt everyone’s genuine excitement and happiness for him which warmed his heart, and for the first time in his life, he felt like he was more than just a soldier bred to die on the battlefield. Because surely no cannon fodder could feel the sheer peace he felt in his chest at that moment.

—--------

Finally they reached the GAR HQ, and Quin cheerily went to bid them all a goodnight. But as he turned to Issa, his demeanour changed slightly. Issa had seen that look before during her years growing up at the temple. He was plotting something, and she had a bad feeling about just what was going on in his head.

“What is it? Why are you looking at me like that?”

With an air of nonchalance, Quin shrugged and lifted his hand to examine his finger nails before answering. “Do you remember that time you broke Obi-Wan’s favourite tea pot?”

The question sent a wave of guilt coursing through Issa, bringing the memory alive in her mind as she tried with all her might to push it away. It was years ago. She’d been trying to do something nice for Plo as Master Fisto had let it slip that the Kel Dor’s birthday was coming up. So Issa had decided that she’d try and make her Master his favourite tea as a surprise. She knew Obi-Wan had a full set that he brought out when he had people over, and she would’ve asked his permission but of course the young council member was stuck in the same meetings for the day as Plo. So, she’d made the decision to borrow it and leave a note, thinking Obi-Wan wouldn’t mind. But as she went to leave his quarters, she tripped and couldn’t get her hands out from under the tray quick enough to use the force to catch the fragile items, leaving her to watch as they hit the ground and shattered into a hundred pieces. She’ll never forget the image of Obi-Wan’s sad blue eyes as he cleaned the broken porcelain from his floor later that day.

The Pantoran cringed. “You know I do.”

“Well, you know how I covered for you and got a twenty minute lecture on my lack of appreciation for other people’s property and you said, and I quote,” Quin paused to clear his throat before his voice changed to a higher pitch, attempting to mimic Issa. “Oh Quin, my hero. Thank you, I owe you big time.”

“That’s not verbatim and I do not sound like that,” Issa huffed.

“Well the gist is there. The point is, I’m looking to cash in that favour. I know I said my mission is over and the council is moving me on to another problem, which is great and all, but I don’t think my job on this one is done just yet.”

“Well, did you tell them that?”

“Yeah, but they weren’t exactly happy with me. Apparently because of the war we’re spread thin, and they need me to move on. I’ve gone against their word one too many times now, so they’re watching me like a Blood Eagle this time. Listen there’s a guy on the lower levels here, level 1313. He’s got connections to the Narkabb family and there’s been rumours that the crime lord’s cousin is looking to take over while there’s a power vacuum. I just need you to go down there and find out if that’s true so I can put it back on the council’s radar for someone else to pick up.”

“Maker Quin, that’s a big ask. Plus I don’t exactly want to go around pissing off the council. The same council where my Master, who is freakishly good at telling when I'm lying, is a member.”

“Yeah well, you do have the sabacc face of a Tooka in Plo’s defence,” Quin conceded with a chuckle, before shaking himself and guiding the conversation back on topic. “But seriously Issa, this information could help us save some lives later down the line. The Narkabb family is bad news, and if they’re coming back with a vengeance. People are going to pay and it won’t be me; it’ll be innocent people.”

His words were starting to affect her, wearing down her resolve. “Surely there’s someone better suited for this. Have you not heard back from Desh yet on when he’s coming home?”

Quin sobered for a moment at the mention of his closest friend. “I still can’t get hold of him,” he admitted with a frown that looked far too out of place for the usually easy-going Jedi. The admission that Desh was still out there alone, his status unknown, sat heavily on Issa’s chest.

“Trust me, I wouldn’t ask you for this if I thought I had any other option,” Vos insisted.

Issa gnawed at her bottom lip as she weighed her options. She’d never gone against the council’s wishes before. There’s rules and hierarchy in place for a reason. But the urgency in Vos’s dark eyes was tearing at her logic. This means a lot to him, to save the people this family has hurt.

I’m so going to regret this in the morning.

“Ugh, fine, I'll do it. But I swear if I go down in front of the council for this Quin-”

“Kid, you won’t, I promise. I’ve got you covered. You're a lifesaver. Thank you.”

Issa crossed her arms over her chest and glared at the man before her. “Are you ever going to stop calling me ‘kid’?”

“When you stop being younger than me maybe.” Quin smirked at her before sweeping her up in a hug, mumbling his thanks again into her shoulder.

The pair bid each other goodbye and Issa jogged to catch up with her troops. The Pantoran just managed to join the clones in the lift before the doors sealed shut.

She allowed herself a moment to catch her breath as she tilted her head back against the durasteel of the lift and closed her eyes.

Maker’s sake, Quin. It’s been nearly ten years since the teapot incident, I can’t believe he’s been sitting on that for so long.

Next to her, Issa heard the small clang as one of the troopers copied her stance. Cloud quietly leaned a few centimetres closer before whispering. “Hey, everything okay? You seem tense.”

The quiet ones are always the most observant, Issa thought fondly.

“Yeah Cloud, I’m good. It’s just been a long day.” She didn’t expand further and he didn’t push, which Issa was beyond thankful for. The two of them stood in companionable silence as they observed the rest of the Wolfpack chatting amongst themselves while the lift continued to plummet down floor after floor to their accommodation.

The troopers had been kind enough to provide her one of their spare bunks for the night to save her having to sneak back through the temple in her inebriated state. Gracelessly, Issa nosed-dived into her bed for the evening, all background noise falling away as she settled into the hard mattress and flat pillow. As the dark bliss of sleep closed in around her, a final thought drifted through her mind, in particular an image of her Master’s amused, all-knowing look earlier that day when Sinker had first called. Issa smirked to herself at the reminder.

He knows me too well.

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