#communicators are called COMLINKS

[im-no-jedi]

one of the nice things about uploading MLWTBB to AO3 is I can fix some of the mistakes I missed the first time. like actually properly naming things with SW terminology that I didn’t know when I initially wrote it LOL

[erinkeifer]

ℕ𝕠𝕥 𝕞𝕪 𝕔𝕠𝕕𝕖 - ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕍𝕀𝕀𝕀 - 𝔽𝕚𝕟𝕒𝕝𝕖

[Anakin Skywalker x Padawan!Fem Reader]

Masterlist | Wattpad | AO3 Not My Code Masterlist

Summary: You were certain that the Order would never make itself known to you again until your communicator woke you up. You find out that Anakin has stepped onto a path he shouldn't have.

Warnings: angst | hurt | descriprions of pain | mentions of injuries | kissing | subtle sexual references | fluff Author Note: So, the inevitable has come – the finale! I can't believe it's over already – NMC has brought me immense joy, but it's now wrapped up, exactly in the way I envisioned this ending from the start. So, my dear ones – play Duel of the Fates and I invite you to enjoy the read! Word Count: 3,3k

When the first signal on your comlink sounded, you were so groggy that you thought you were still dreaming. You slept through the night without a single interruption, unable to determine whether it was due to emotional exhaustion from the previous day or thanks to Anakin's warm embrace, ensuring your utmost comfort until you fell asleep. In any case, you wanted to continue your carefree rest and reached out for Anakin, who should have been lying on your left. Well, he should have been. You groped around for him but only encountered a cold pillow, the realization of which made you instantly open your eyes.

"Ani?" you called out in a slightly hoarse, 'morning' voice, but all you heard in response was dead silence. Rubbing your eyes, you noticed that his side of the bed was in disarray. Completely disoriented, you took a few steps to see that his boots were missing by the door, and the coat you sometimes borrowed from him was absent from the wardrobe when you needed a quick cover-up. Trusting that he had just stepped out for a moment, you decided to go to the kitchen and grab something to eat. However, once again, you heard a sound that seemed like a dream – the sound of the communicator.

"Um… Who's speaking?" you asked, answering the call blindly. "It's Rex." you heard from the other side, and you couldn't hide your confusion. "Rex? What's going on? Why…"

"Ma'am, I'm afraid something really bad has happened." The captain cut into your words, and you instantly felt a chill running down your spine. It was a tone you definitely didn't like. "What happened?" you asked, becoming increasingly certain that what you were about to hear would cause you considerable pain. "It's about Anakin. Please come to the Temple, preferably as soon as possible."

You froze for a moment, envisioning hundreds of possible scenarios at once when you heard Rex's words. Did someone harm him? Is he in danger? You didn't want to get worked up, but you felt like you were panicking more and more.

"Rex, I'll do everything in my power, but please tell me, what happened? Did someone hurt him? Is he injured?" You could only think of him. Only about how maybe he wanted to avenge yesterday's events and got into a fight, that someone laid a hand on him. You didn't want to imagine it, not when you couldn't be there for him, when he might need you.

"I don't know about him, but there are wounded. There are also dead." .....................................................................................................................

You've never been more grateful for the existence of air taxis in Coruscant than now - if it weren't for the available fare, you probably wouldn't have had a way to reach the Temple. You were surprised when you noticed Anakin's ship wasn't on the landing platform when you disembarked, but the Captain you had been communicating with just a few minutes ago was waiting for you right at the entrance.

"I arrived as fast as I could… I thought I'd find Anakin's ship, but…"

"Ma'am, you need to know something, now." Rex caught you by your arms, interrupting whatever you were about to say.

"I'm not waiting." You replied, hearing muffled cries from a distance.

"We had a massacre here… Obi-Wan and Padmé went after Anakin, and he… lost his mind." Your insides boiled upon hearing the Captain's words.

"How did he lose his mind?? Where is he at all??? And what about… Padmé?" You weren't surprised that Anakin struggled to say her name - over time, you found yourself feeling the same way as your attachment to him strengthened, and jealousy grew in equal measure.

"On Mustafar, Ma'am. The Senator didn't get clearance, she shouldn't have been there, but…"

"Of course, she shouldn't have been there." At this point, you tried unsuccessfully to break free from the Captain's grip.

"Let me go, I need to…"

"This could be deadly danger for you, you can't…"

"If so, am I to understand that he is also in deadly danger?" You cut Rex off before he could finish his warning. "I'm afraid…"

"Don't finish. If he dies - I die too." You looked deeply into the captain's eyes before he released his grip and you could return to the landing platform.

"Please, be careful." he called after you, and you turned around to nod in gratitude. Among all the ships parked on the platform, you chose the one you were most familiar with, wasting no time as you jumped into the vehicle. Before even slamming the door shut, you punched the coordinates into the console. You had no idea what you would find, and your heart was pounding - not because you're heading towards the most fervent planet in the galaxy, not because you're flying completely unarmed - but because you're afraid you might lose him. ..................................................................................................................... You landed on the platform near the command chamber - there you also noticed two ships familiar to you, which you almost brushed against when positioning your own. As you stepped out, you almost recoiled from the heat - you had only been on this planet once, and its atmosphere sent shockwaves through your body. However, you quickly felt that the physical heat was a minor inconvenience - you felt a boiling sensation in your veins when you saw Padmé sitting at the end of the platform next to Obi-Wan's parked ship. The senator had her hands on her head, and although her posture wasn't standard, you could have ignored her and continued, but at this moment, you needed to know one thing - where is Anakin.

You had no intention of exchanging pleasantries; you were distant, and acutely aware of it. "Where is he..?" you asked with a cold voice, wanting only one straightforward answer in return. Amidala remained silent, locking eyes with you, and with each passing second, you felt yourself slipping into growing fury.

"If you don't tell me, I'll find him myself. But if, before I do, anything bad happens to him, I'll come back, and I'll make sure something bad happens to you. So, I'll ask one last time - where-is-he?" you uttered through gritted teeth, making dramatic pauses between each of your last three words."

"Now I have no doubt that it was you who got to him." Padmé declared, and without hearing the response you needed, you provocatively withdrew. "So, you've chosen option number two. An exceptionally unwise move…" you began to walk in the opposite direction very slowly, feeling the tension building within you. "He attacked Obi-Wan… And me… They went there, I didn't want to witness it..." she finally replied, then you turned towards the direction indicated by Amidala. "You shouldn't be here." you muttered under your breath as you walked where the two men were supposed to go.

"Especially not you." she replied, as long as she still had you in sight. You stopped before disappearing behind the command station wall and threw the senator a final glance.

"I'm here for someone I love because I know how to keep promises, unlike the ones you threw to the floor like dirty rags." you retorted, and you heard no response. Instead, the sound of clashing lightsabers reached your ears. You immediately quickened your pace, heading towards the source of the sound. You cast off your covering just as you approached the edge of the platform, which was being flooded by molten lava, and you froze when the silhouettes of the apprentice and the master finally came into view before your eyes.

"You underestimate my power…!" You heard Anakin's scream and tried to get as close as possible. Skywalker stood on a detached piece of ground amidst the spreading lava, with Obi-Wan above him, positioned on a secure spot on the edge. "Don't try it…" You didn't understand what Obi-Wan meant until your vision sharpened, and you saw that Anakin was attempting to jump towards him from his precarious position. Too late. "NO!" you screamed desperately, straining your lungs, as Kenobi severed Anakin's legs in mid-air, also cutting off his left arm, which remained suspended along with them. You ran desperately, stumbling over irregularities in your path, crying and shouting, seeing your beloved one fighting for survival, clinging with one hand to the rocks. You collided with Obi-Wan when you reached Anakin. He looked at you with eyes you had never seen before - you didn't care whether they were consumed by darkness - you were doing everything in your power to save him. Dazed by the drastic sight, you didn't even hear Obi-Wan's cries behind you.

You pulled Anakin up by his shoulders, trying not to slip off the cliff yourself - you sobbed and drowned in tears, hearing his agonizing groans. You couldn't lose him. "Please, lean on me, please…" you pleaded with a broken voice, doing your best to prevent him from coming into contact with the lava. "I loved you… Both of you... But I can't help you anymore." Obi-Wan managed to shout at you before he left, and you exchanged a last glance with him - probably the saddest you've ever shared.

When you managed to pull Anakin to a safe point, you fell powerless and laid him back on your knees. His face was worn out, eyes visibly circled and reddened - he breathed harshly and deeply as you combed through his sticky hair with trembling fingers, and your tears fell onto his torso. "I… I…" he tried to say between deep breaths, but you quickly interrupted him, seeing that speaking was causing him tremendous effort. "Shhh, I know… Please, breathe deeply." you whispered, seeing the pain written on his face. Each rise of his chest was torture for him, and you could do nothing but wait - wait for someone to take pity on you and come to help.

"Don't close your eyes, love, please, don't close your eyes!" you cradled Anakin's overheated face with your hand as his consciousness seemed to drift away - you weren't surprised he couldn't endure it- you doubted you could bear such pain yourself. "Please, stay with me! Ani, I love you, please, stay with me!" he heard from you before his conscious vision was covered by a haze. And then, darkness fell. .....................................................................................................................

"Does it hurt him? Please, do something…" you asked, leaning with trembling hands against the Venetian mirror that separated the spacious but dingy operating room. "You must know, young Lady, that this pain will strengthen him." replied Palpatine standing at your side. When he took you from Mustafar, you could barely recognize him - almost until now, you were afraid to look him in the face, but you had to get used to it - just as you would have to get used to the new shape of your beloved. Anakin looked as if he were sleeping, but he winced painfully with every movement of the surgical tools - each involuntary reaction of his body broke your heart. You couldn't stop the tears that flowed down your cheeks one after another.

"Don't worry. This boy is the strongest being I've ever known. And soon - even stronger." added Palpatine, seeing your despair. Your legs buckled under you from stress, so you sat on the nearest seat, in a section of the room that resembled a hospital waiting area - with the difference that everything around was incredibly sealed, as if prepared and reserved specifically for him, just in case.

"Only a blind man wouldn't see the feelings that connect you two. What a shame that the Jedi would prefer to exile both of you in the name of their code." you stared at the wall as Palpatine spoke those words, and at that moment, you felt how far you were from the life you once led. "This is not my code anymore." you responded with a somber but confident tone, drawing Palpatine's gaze. "And I have a feeling it never was." you added after a moment, and a semblance of a smile appeared on the hooded man's face.

"I believe so too. That's why I had to set you free." he responded to your words, and you didn't say anything, just looked at him, feeling a complete emptiness inside. "Anakin swore allegiance to me- our cooperation can be fruitful like never before. But if you harbor feelings for this boy, you'll have to stand by him and strengthen him, just as he does for you. Together, you can be stronger than anyone in history and build your own." he continued. Barely after he finished, you heard a signal coming from the adjacent room - the procedure was over, and the doors opened. You rose impulsively and felt the urge to run into the room immediately, but you knew you had to maintain relative calm. "Please be cautious, Ma'am." said one of the exiting medical droids as you approached the table where Anakin lay, and you nodded, not wanting to make any abrupt movements. His torso and thighs were half-covered with robes – from the knees down, new leg prosthetics were already in place, and his left arm also had a replacement – each clad in black, leather-like material.

Only his face was as it was before – maybe not as bright, but his facial features, beneath all that pain and exhaustion, were still beautiful – temporarily concealed by sleep that you didn't want to interrupt. Temporarily, because Anakin woke up as if he felt your presence nearby. You pulled a stool towards you and sat down, gently brushing the matted strands of hair from his warm forehead with a soft hand motion.

"Hey." his voice was still rough and tired, but as soon as you heard it, a smile appeared on your face.

"Hey, love." you replied in a whisper, seeing a smile growing on his face as well. His eyes were darker than ever before- you focused on them, remembering how dynamically their shade changed on Mustafar – back then, there was red, there was yellow, but now, there was definitely more calmness emanating from them.

"For a moment, I thought I lost you." you said, and after a while, you felt his right hand – the one you both were already accustomed to – reaching for your cheek.

"It seems you'll have to put up with me a little longer." he replied, and you laughed, a reaction he also instinctively mirrored, but he quickly got winded and started coughing.

"Slowly, my love, take it slowly." you signaled to Anakin, placing your hand on his chest, not wanting him to exert himself. "You need to rest… Your body needs to regenerate and… Adjust." you whispered to him, running your hand over his shoulder, looking at his new prosthetics, to which both of you would certainly need to adjust.

"Where will you be?" Anakin impulsively asked, seeing you rise from the chair.

"If you want, I'll be here with you, but you need to rest." you replied, and you saw a smile on his face – now, without a doubt, knowing he wants you by his side.

So, you sat back down, glancing occasionally at the apparatus surrounding you. Anakin's heartbeat was stabilizing, and at this moment, that was the most reassuring thing for you. As usual, you would want to listen to it as closely as possible – just like you used to fall asleep, with your head on his chest – but you couldn't afford that, not yet. Instead, you leaned against the free space on the headrest of his medical table and gently stroked his exposed arm, ensuring he felt as comfortable as possible.

"Hold my hand." his eyes were closed when he whispered these words to you, and you immediately reached for his hand, enveloping it with your warm fingers, hoping he could feel your touch to some extent, as if it were his own skin.

"One more thing." you heard after a moment, and your eyes once again shifted to his, still peacefully closed. "Kiss me, please." he added in a whisper after a while, and you instantly felt warmth in your heart. You rose very gently from your seat and pressed your lips to his, uniting them in a sweet, tender kiss. His lips had a metallic taste of blood, which came from the small wounds caused by biting them in pain. You didn't want to press too hard to avoid additional pain, but Anakin deepened the kiss, so you held as much as he needed. Well, both of you needed it so much that you certainly wouldn't leave this room for a long time, but for now, it had to be enough.

When your lips finally parted, you returned to your position, never letting go of Anakin's hand. For the first few minutes, it was tightly clenched in yours, but little by little, the grip loosened, and his breathing evened out. You watched with tenderness as his chest rose and fell calmly, and his tired face peacefully sank into the pillow. In a moment, there was no more pain, no more fear and sadness – there was only a peaceful sleep that soon visited both of you. .....................................................................................................................

"Watch out, QT." you said to your droid, who occasionally had a habit of rolling over your long, trailing black gown that you decided to wear today. The past month had turned your lives upside down, but it was better. You could feel it.

"You are so…beautiful." you heard behind you as you combed your hair in front of the mirror. In the reflection, you saw Anakin, leaning against one of the pillars in your new apartment. His new style was much darker, but it suited him well. Your style had also changed, and you could almost say it had adapted to Anakin's. You chose long dresses more often than jumpsuits, while Anakin opted for black robes with small metallic accents that complemented his leather gloves.

"It’s only because I’m so in love." you responded, turning to your beloved and smiling at the sight of his dreamy face. "No. No, it’s because I’m so in love with you." he replied, approaching you with a wide smile, grabbing your hands—adorned with lace, black gloves to harmonize with his.

You left a short, sweet kiss on his lips and playfully grabbed his cheek, unable to look away from his face, which had remarkably healed since you started your new life. "I see you're getting used to it already." you said, looking first at the hand embracing you and then at Anakin's legs. "It was easier with the hand. Well, I'll definitely miss them…" he chuckled, but quickly returned to a neutral expression, his hand gently gripping your chin. "Do you know what else I miss?" he asked after a moment, and you quickly understood what Anakin meant, even just by his gaze.

"I know." you responded with a tender tone, and it was evident that both of you missed it. "Aren't you afraid anymore, the first time? With this?" Anakin whispered. "Honey, you know I'm not. I just don't want to cause you pain." you replied, stroking his cheek, to which he smiled gently. "You won't, I believe it will be perfect…" you approached each other, but soon heard a knocking on the door. "Come in." you said, and soon R2-D2 emerged from behind the door, emitting a few informational beeps.

"Yes, yes, we're coming." Anakin responded to his droid, and you looked at him with interest. "Are you ready?" he asked after a while. "If you kiss me, maybe I will be." you replied teasingly, but Anakin fulfilled your wish faster than expected, pinning you against the wall and overpowering you in a passionate kiss. "So, are you ready now?" he replied breathlessly after a short attack on your lips. "Like never before." you answered, embracing Anakin at the waist, but soon one of your hands dropped to grab his.

"I can't believe it… We're getting married, my love…" "We're getting married."

[marymary-diva17]

my captain

Rex x reader

Star Wars masterlist It was against his oath for to the republic and what he had bene made for, he had always bene a soldier for the republic but that all changed when he meet you. Since the day he had meet your his life has never been the same, you really did care for him being there for him when he was down and giving him some encouragement. The two of you really balanced each other out, and brought harmony as well in your guys lives.

Y/n “ ……” Your are walking around your home, on the planet if corustant after getting done with a long day at work. Waiting to hear a call from your brother Anakin and Rex. As they were in far reaches of galaxy right now fighting for the republic. 

3cpo “ my lady everything will be okay master anakin will be fine, you have nothing to worry about” 

Padme “ they will be okay I know they will be home soon” 

Y/n “ I know 3po and padme but I still worry about him”padme knew you didn’t want to lose anymore family, and any more close relationships since the war started destroying many lives. 

Padme “ 3po why don’t you have some tea prepared for us to will help clan nerves”

3cpo “ yes my lady”3po had soon walked away soon a beeping sound had been heard, as you raced those the hologram projector. 

Y/n “ anakin”

Anakin “ hello baby sister I came to call I know you have been worried about me and my men, we are able safe here”

Y/n “ I’m happy to hear that brother i thought something bad happen to you” 

Anakin “ I’m sorry for not calling soon”

Padme “ don’t ever scar us like that again anakin, we didn’t know if you are alive and dead”

Anakin “ I sorry I’m here now” 

Y/n “ how is everyone else”

Anakin “ Ashoka and the troopers are doing well not loses since time, just some injured” 

Y/n “ good” 

Anakin “ oh yes there is someone who wishes to speak with you” soon Rex had came into the frame and you had started feeling better, seeing that Rex was now okay. 

Anakin “ Rex I’m giving you some time to speak with my sister, I will cover for you”

Rex “ thank you” soon padme comlink had started going off, it was some bail and it seems like it was important. 

Padme “ I will see you later i will cover for you at the senate if anyone asks”

Y/n “ thank you” soon anakin and padme were gone and you, were now with Rex. The man soon removed his helmet and looked at you. 

Y/n “ hello my captain”

Rex “ hello my love Im sorry if I worried you,

I tired to get in communication with you but it failed”

Y/n “ I understand Rex you don’t need to explain anything”

Rex “ how are you my love is everything ojah on your end”

Y/n “ it Bebe good but there is a war going on here with the senate, as there are debts on how to deal with everything”

Rex “ well it seems like we are both fighting our own battles” you soon giggle and smile at Rex comment. 

Rex “ that the beautiful smile I love so much”

Y/n “ hey I’m happy to see your handsome face”

Rex “ oh you think I’m handsome” you giggle once again and shake your head, making Rex smirk as well. 

Rex “ once this mission is over I don’t know if I will be home or else where so it might be longer until we see each other again”

Y/n “ I understand I will love you no matter how far you are from me, and when the time comes we will see each other again” 

???? “ hey Rexster we have an important meeting with officials sky guy told me, to come get you” Rex soon sighed knowing his time with you has been cut short, but he had his duty to the republic right now.

y/n “ go you are need right now we will talk again”Rex soon looked towards you know it will be a long time until you spoke with him again.

Rex “ thank you my love I will see you soon”

y/n “ I will see you soon as well”

Rex “ I love you”

y/n “ I love you as well my captain” rex soon place his helmet back on before the call end, the both of you looked at each other before the call officially ended. You sat there for a while before you got back to reality, you knew you will see Rex soon even though it might take a while he will be home soon.

[contentment-of-cats]

The Card Game at the End of the Galaxy.

They got the Lady as repaired as one could hope. The damned whales apparently used the refined Clouzon fuels to come back here to die after spawning. The Chimaera's crew had been too busy dying or with damage control to see the beasties having it off in hyperspace. Grace and Little Gods only knew if she'd hold together making the jump, but with the materials of other crashed ships, they'd been able to put her back together.

Shipwide Communication: All Hands

ALL ESSENTIAL PERSONNEL INDICATED FOR COLD SLEEP HAVE RECEIVED THEIR THORACIC PORTS AND BACTA TREATMENT.

PREPARATION FOR NON-EMERGENCY COLDSLEEP:

Your groups will be called by MOS and rank. Do not wait in the medbay corridors. 

No food after 00:00 - clear liquids only. Take the intestinal prep at the same time.

At 06:00 leave your quarters wearing the hooded jumpsuit provided. Your possessions will be stored away for you.

In the staging area wait to be called with your group. Please do not bring anything with you such as datapads, reading material, or your personal comlinks.

We will soon be home. 

They will soon regret it.

Long live the Empire. 

CMDE Albus Marinith, ISD Chimaera FLAG, 7th Fleet, 

GADM Mitth'raw'nuruodo, ISD Chimaera FLAG, 7th Fleet

~

They were good soldiers and sailors of the Empire, and rather than await a lingering death from starvation and thirst - or eating dead whale meat (barf) - his Humans got to work. Thrawn, of course, didn't know this. He was in and out of coldsleep, medbeds, bacta tanks, and surgery. His Humans were as determined to save him as they were to get home. They were shocked silly when three crones suddenly appeared on the auxiliary bridge, and the Three Mothers almost joined their sisters before Thrawn stopped them. 

They had something to offer - and they wanted something in return.

A way to communicate with the galaxy far, far away. A way to rally the resources needed to return home. The hyperlanes were purgill migration routes, the purgill one of the oldest species not just in the galaxy, but in the universe, and a species eating itself out of existence. They came here to spawn, then die, their bones filled with Clouzon, the ships that ran on it the only way for them to get home. With a ring based on the old Jedi fighter hyperspace rings, the Chimaera could fly again. It would take the Mothers back to Dathomir, and the crew of the Chimaera back home.

It was go time.

They found a way to mine the bone belt, then vaporize the bones in a plasma engine, collecting the gasses. The Chimaera's chief engineer's last act had been to shut down the core with his bare hands in a breached engine room. In the weeks that it took to minimally refuel, the air turned stale as vital systems starved. Then, nursing the core back to full power - and holding their breath - engine by engine, they fired the Gemon-4 ion engines and moved slowly into the atmosphere.

Thrawn awoke just in time for the descent.

More devilry, but it could not be helped. Three rickety old hags weighed against the remaining Chimaera crew. 

So they are here now, his loyal crew. Almost all sleep in their stasis units in the catacombs. The Chimaera is vacuum tight and as spaceworthy as possible. Bridger will be stranded. 

Hammerly shuffles the cards, the chrono counting down to 00:00. Pyrondi has a pile of worthless chips and heckles Lomar and Agral that she's cashing in when they get home. Yve doesn't do goodbyes, and is sitting this one out. Marinith is finishing his last commands and a glass of his Corellian whisky. 

Thrawn brings a bottle and takes a seat. "Deal me in, Flag Captain Hammerly."

"Ready to lose your pension, sir?" Pyrondi chirps with her characteristic confidence.

"Hold onto your chips, Commander Pyrondi." Card games such as Five Card Fool Me involve strategy as much as luck. "Remember last time."

She tried to bluff the table with a pair of deuces and fooled everyone but him. 

They talk about what they're going to do when they get home. Some of the acts involve improbable uses for Bridger's head, but most are typical leave activities. They talk about visiting family, partying, indulging in food and drink, or hobbies. 

"What are you planning to do, sir?"

"Apparently, Commander Lomar, I need to plan on posting your bail." Thrawn let a small smirk flit across his face, making the others eye their cards nervously. "Don't worry about the courts martial. I've had enough of them that I can talk you through."

The runup to coldsleep has seen some remarkable behavior in the name of stress relief, and Thrawn has long looked the other way on fraternization. Waking up in a pile of warm and naked Humans has been comforting these past months. They have never disdained his injured body, and many bear scars from horrendous wounds of their own.

Five minutes to 00:00, Hammerly puts the cards away and kisses them all farewell. Lomar and Agral follow. Marinith looks in and bids him goodnight. Yve's farewell is personal, warm, and heartfelt. Pyrondi tidies the room and Thrawn can feel her reluctance to leave.

"I'll look in on you in a few hours." 

She nods, not trusting her voice, and goes. Thrawn would never betray her confidence that coldsleep terrifies her. They've all had the drills, starting with the academy, but this is going to be for a very long time. They don't have enough consumables for the length of time they'll have to wait. Thrawn and a core of stormtroopers will remain awake, with a few officers and specialists to wake when the Eye of Sion arrives.

The prep for non-emergency coldsleep is unpleasant, but he noticed them cutting back on rations and increasing fluids. When he looks in on Pyrondi, as promised, she's pale and fatigued in the aftermath. A weak smile from her and he enters, placing the do-not-disturb on the doorway. He's going to miss her as she sleeps. He will miss all of them. His Humans.

He stays until 06:00, going to medbay and finding everything ready. He nods at the medic to begin.

"Commander Agral, report to medbay."

"Commander Yve, report to medbay."

"Commander Lomar, report to medbay."

"Commander- Commodore Marinith, report to medbay."

Pyrondi is last, and it is for his own selfish purpose. Marinith gives him a knowing look.

The body, reactivating from a cold start, goes through hell. Hibernation sickness can last for weeks if one is not properly inducted. First come the scans to make sure of an empty digestive tract. A protective drink goes down, eye and nose drops are administered, a mouthpiece put in place. Then the thoracic port is hooked up to the infusion pump. There is nobody to see as he takes Pyrondi's hand. She's a good officer, one of his very best.

"Anesthesia in three, two, one. Commander, count backwards from ten."

"Ten. Nine. Eight. S-sevix. Fi-" 

Pyrondi's eyes haze, close, and are then delicately taped to protect them. The mouthpiece and airway tube are placed, then her exposed face covered with bacta patches. It doesn't look like her any longer. Thrawn starts to tuck her fingers into the mitt, then looks at the other four caskets waiting, lights blinking. It's not a Chiss custom, but he presses his lips to her warm fingers. 

"I'll see you soon, Commander Pyrondi." 

He tucks her hand back in, straightens and nods at the medic.

"Coldsleep prep dose underway… now." He can't see the warmth drain from her face, but he can see her in infrared when he blinks his nictitating lid. She changes until her body gives only a cold blue signal. "Patient is stable. Beginning induction."

He waits. She or one of the others waited for him - there every time he woke up. 

"Induction successful for Pyrondi, Commander, Senior Weapons Officer, female, twenty-six years of age."

The casket closes, carbonite gas filling the space, the light flashes and then settles into a steady red. 

Thrawn nods to the medic, one of the few crew members left awake.

"We'll take good care of them, sir."

"Dismissed."

When the troopers come to take the five caskets, Thrawn turns and walks away.

Now all he has to do is wait.

[iidigestive-readerii]

The Good Jedi Pt One

In which Satine lives and Ahsoka finds herself in a diner

---

Dex rings him at about two in the morning. He's not surprised to say the least, and gives a small grimace as the familiar tone plays. 

There was a part of him that desperately hoped it wasn't why, but he knew otherwise. 

Uncurling himself from Satine - who grumbled but rose on an elbow nonetheless - he pawed around for his comlink and answered.

"Kenobi speaking."

"Obi-Wan. Can I ask why one of your padawans is in my kitchen looking like a krayt dragon swallowed her and spit it out? It's not good for business."

Obi-Wan sighed, looking at the ground before facing his long time friend. "Does she have any money with her? Toiletries, clothes, anything?"

Dex folded his four arms across his chest, shaking his large head. "Notta thing, or else I wouldn't be calling you."

"...fair."

"Does this have anythin' to do with that trial? Or is that Jedi business?"

Snorting, Obi-Wan pushed the blanket aside and stood. "I'll be over in an hour, Dex. Is Hermione there?"

"Sent her home 'fore this business happened."

"Okay…" He heard the mattress creak, and feet hit the floor. "See you in a bit."

"Alrighty - say hi to the missus for me."

"Dex - " Obi-Wan started before the hologram disappeared. Sighing, he looked over at his bed partner rifling through a dresser. "I suppose I can't convince you to not come with me?"

Satine scoffed, turning around and throwing a t-shirt and a pair of socks at him. "Ahsoka is a child. I lose control of my system, convince everyone that I am more than capable of being outside a hospital ward, and come to find out in those two weeks the dumbest of manhunts and trials has been conducted against Ahsoka Tano?"

"...you know my hands were tied. I'm in enough trouble as it is, rescuing you and - "

"Interfering with galactic politics, fucking a Mandalorian, warming her bed in the guise of protecting while I don't even know the status of my people or - " Satine cut herself off, turning to brush at her tears. In her bra and leggings she looked so thin, wounds still healing from days of torture, exhaustion radiating off of her. 

"... we'll find Korkie," Obi-Wan whispered. He stepped forward, grasping her shoulder gently. "Knowing our boy he's rallying support and trying to keep everyone he can safe. Establish trust… communication will come. I have full faith in it "

Satine nodded, wiping at her eyes. She knew better than to argue with his faith in the universe, after all their years together. "I'm not losing another child I care about."

[saaandy]

REUNION

The music sounded for the raccoon, who was sitting on the steps of the Nowhere bar. His favorite place, where he could observe all the residents and everything that was happening around him. He had to be attentive, especially since a reunion would take place that day: Peter had kept a communicator since he left for Earth, several months ago, and said communicator gave way to a distant-galaxy-far conversation. Rocket was the one who did not separate from it since the first days but when he began to accept missions from the Guardians with his new team, he learned to cope with his nostalgia.

But there were moments of weakness, which began with him waking up from a long night and clutching the Zune Quill had given him, with millions of archaic tapes of music bygone but iconic to Peter, and now to Rocket.

Due to the headphones he had on his tiny ears, he did not hear the comlink vibrate that day, but after a mission out, he caught a glimpse of a flickering light.

From there, he tried to communicate with Peter for the first time since he had seen him leave, and upon hearing his voice on the other side of the comlink, Rocket jumped into bed overjoyed.

They caught up, both: the human recounting his reunion with his grandfather and household chores, and the raccoon his adventures and the harshness of being the new leader. The shocked laughter turned nostalgic for Quill, who did not hesitate to remind Rocket that he needed to see him to bring him new music. The technology had advanced too far and the cassettes were outdated, just like Peter and Rocket, though they agreed to catch up on Earth technology.

How? A visit.

Peter would return to Nowhere for a few days and that alerted Rocket, who, at the end of the call, went out to give the news to Nebula and Drax, these being the high commands of the city and, above all, of the education of the children who they rescued months ago. The voices spread, mostly Groot's, and he made Mantis also find out thanks to her other communicator, through which she had contact with her brother.

The day had arrived and Rocket kept looking at the ceiling from time to time while the music changed from one track to another. He was looking for ships coming through the airlock, more specifically, Quill's. The preparations for that day were polished in his mind: from showing Peter how the city had evolved to how his new team worked, of which he was proud.

The infant raccoons they rescued scampered through the streets, distracting everyone who came across them, including Groot, who made a beeline for Rocket after petting them.

"I am Groot." Rocket removed a headphone from his ear, leaving it hanging from his neck.

"I'm chilled. I just wait." Groot stared at him in disbelief and the raccoon only responded with a tail wag. It was a tick.

"I am Groot!" Groot sat next to him, making the raccoon look three times smaller. The tree had grown quite a bit, becoming an adult that accompanied Rocket with pride of being his leader and father.

"I'm not going to cry when I see him. It's not like someone died." His ears twitched in sign of weakness. He was still stubborn and presented a strong and sarcastic character but Groot understood his father's feelings at that moment and his goal: to show Peter that he had left the team's legacy in good hands.

Something that was inevitable to deny.

The music was still playing in his right ear, but hearing thrusters approaching, he paused the player.

Rocket ran on all fours to the hangar as he saw the ship land as crowds gathered in the plaza to welcome Peter.

When the door opened and Peter came out everyone cheered and Rocket went straight for him, this time on two legs. Straight and with the intention of giving him a paw in welcome, but what he didn't expect was for Quill to bend down and hug him with an enormous force that made all his skin crawl.

"My goodness, how much you have grown!" Rocket let the joke about his poor height slide for once, wrapping around Peter's neck following the hug. He wasn't going to cry, but he had missed him.

The reunion was the most anticipated: Peter repeating the height joke again, this time with Groot; Mantis coming in a ship with his three tamed creatures; Nebula and Drax introducing each child to Peter and these, drawings that they made shortly after they were saved. Gamora couldn't come, but Peter was relieved, having gotten over lost.

Rocket did not stop smiling all day, telling jokes, inviting Adam to sit with them and drinking alcohol at the usual bar.

Everything had gone back to the way it was before.

After the celebration, everyone was falling asleep, the laughter went out as well as the lights and soon only Rocket and Peter were left at the bar, the latter looking at the Zune that Rocket kept with himself.

"I'm glad you're still listening to that tape. New music from Earth is quite…” Rocket pulled out the Zune and put it on the table.

"What?" Rocket looked at him curiously.

"You have to hear it for yourself." Peter smiled and pulled out a state-of-the-art cell phone and wireless headset, offering one to Rocket. Once on, Peter hit play and it only took five seconds for Rocket to look at him seriously.

"Quill, what the fuck is this?" Peter roared with excitement.

“They call it K-Pop. Everyone listens to it!" Hesitating was what Rocket hated the most but seeing Peter smile, he played along, enjoying the good old days.

“HA! And what happened to the bongos and the catchy AND understandable lyrics!?” Peter shrugged humorously. "Earthlings... You are crazy." Rocket drank from his cup.

"I'm going to put them all on tape, there's an antiques store near my house, and they give me a discount for saving the galaxy!" Rocket shook his head in amusement.

“Keep your modern music. I prefer the prehistoric tapes a thousand times.” Peter shook his shoulders and looked at him for a moment. Even though he had the Zune in his hands, Rocket made a wiring arrangement all over the city and the tune that Peter had proclaimed as his favorite could be heard very low. A melody that stirred the feelings of longing in everyone, who were silent for a few moments until Quill stretched out in the chair talking to him.

“It feels good to be back and see what a great job you've done.” Rocket looked down. It was what he wanted to hear, with him out of Nowhere, the raccoon had to manage to lead missions while the city was rebuilt from within. Cosmo offered to take care of the baby raccoons that he rescued from the ship but he always found a way to get his attention and teach the little animals of his own species weapons. Moments where he could be alone with the thoughts of him and the souls of Lyla, Teeth and Floor.

"It's not the same without you." He murmured downcast. He said it with a double meaning, since he still thought about his childhood friends but Peter had also been a very important part of his life, just like the Guardians.

“Have you softened up?” The raccoon stretched to prove him wrong, holding back tears of joy that he wished Peter hadn't seen.

"NO WAY! I'm still the most sadistic raccoon in the galaxy." Peter raised his cup melancholic and happy that his friend was still the same as always despite everything that happened.

"That's how I like it. For a protected galaxy!” Rocket raised his also smiling.

"For the Guardians of the Galaxy!"

Taglist: @love-for-faeries-go-burrrr

[acatalystrising]

At long last, here is the ninth chapter of Consequences! I took my time with this one, because I haven’t wanted it to end! But this story has been so lovely to write, and to be honest, I may not be done with it…I love these two and their dynamic is so much fun!

But for now, I hope you enjoy the final chapter! (But is it? The world may never know…)

Pairing: Boba Fett x (F)Reader

Rating: Explicit 18+

Trigger warnings: angst, smut (foreplay, piv sex, unprotected *this is fiction*, fingering), and allll the usual fluff

Series synopsis: Backstabbed and betrayed, you knew there was a bounty over your head - but when you’re captured by the infamous Boba Fett, it becomes abundantly clear that your fate is as mysterious as your captor.

Chapter nine: The Found Family of Mos Espa

Perhaps fate, you discovered, wasn’t all so bad.

You would have stayed with Boba in Slave 1’s cabin for the rest of the day if you could call the shots. You were certain he would too, but both of your chirping coms clearly indicated that you had backup sorely in need for an update on the turn of events.

You were still curled in his arms when your comlink went off for the third time, and you groaned, finally picking it up.

“The front gate? Maker, you tryin’ to get me killed?” Ta’na’s voice was thick with worry. “You got sand in your brain or what?”

You smiled apologetically at Boba before answering. “You’ll be fine, I promise. Get over here.”

“You’re paying for my funeral.” Ta’na switched the comlink off with a grumble, and you released a shuddering sigh.

Boba ran his fingers through your hair, the gesture soothing, and you leaned against his armored chest, relishing the familiar feeling of the cool beskar against your skin.

“Friend of yours?” His voice rumbled through you, curious.

“Yeah, Ta’na took me in back when…well…” you looked away, unsure of how to continue. How to communicate how lonely you’d been. “I thought I’d lost you forever. If she hadn’t found me, I don’t know if I’d still…”

Soft leather gloves brushed against your chin, lifting your face to meet his gaze. You melted at the touch, drowning in those amber eyes that carried such depth and love.

“I will ensure she knows my gratitude for keeping you safe.” A brief flash of pain flooded his gaze, one he tried to shake away. “I thought of you, mesh’la. When I was in the pit. I didn’t want to abandon you, so I fought back. But I was delayed…”

“It’s okay. We both did what we had to in order to survive. What matters is that we’re here now.” You swallowed, wishing you could look away, but his fingers were firm enough to hold your focus on him. “Boba…I don’t want to assume. If you’ve moved on, I…”

He let go of your chin, opting to cup your cheek with his hand, fingers gently caressing your face. There was nearly a sternness in his eyes, brows slightly furrowed - but when he spoke, his voice remained soft.

“Stars, I could never do that. I know I promised I’d never hunt you again, all those years ago, but…” he quirked a small smile, scarred brow flicking upward. “I’d have torn the galaxy apart searching for you.”

You couldn’t help but smile, a warmth you’d missed for so long settling in your chest.

“For the record, I was gonna do that too,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’d never choose anyone else.”

Boba pulled you into another embrace, and his comlink chirped again, which he finally answered.

“You’ve been in there a while, boss. Everything alright?”

You recognized the female voice from earlier, and he rubbed reassuring circles along your back as he spoke.

“There’s been some new developments, Fennec.” He slowly stood, holding out a hand to help you to your feet. “We have a very special guest.”

There was a pause before the response came. “This had better be good.”

Once the line went silent, you couldn’t help but regard him with a raised brow, echoing his earlier statement.

“Friend of yours?”

“I saved her life - she pledged her service to me.” He placed his hands on your shoulders and met your gaze. “Yes, she’s a friend. But you’re the only one for me, mesh’la.”

You nodded, a blush creeping on your cheeks, and he gestured toward the walkway with a flourish of a gloved hand. “Let’s not keep them waiting.”

-

The woman’s gaze was sharp, cutting like knives, and yet you calmly regarded her with a nod as you descended from the ship, Boba at your side.

“Hiding girls in your ship?” A dark brow flicked upward, her gaze locked on you - clearly still determining if you were a threat. “You continue to surprise me, boss.”

Boba chuckled but didn’t take the bait, instead meeting your gaze as you both stopped once your boots hit the sandy floor.

“This is master assassin Fennec Shand. She helped me take this palace.” He looked at Fennec, who regarded him with a raised brow, eyes gleaming curiously. “Fennec - she’s the one I’ve told you about - the bounty who stole my heart. We all have a lot to catch up on.”

He’d talked about you?

You couldn’t stop a smile from slipping to your lips when he placed a hand on your shoulder in a shockingly public display of affection. There was no preamble, no grand declaration of adoration, only a simple truth from a simple man who loved you more than the galaxy itself. You looked to Fennec, who nodded, lips twisting in a wry smile.

“You don’t say? The one that got away, huh?” She crossed her arms and met your gaze, features softening ever so slightly. “I must say, I’m glad you’re here. I was going to lose it if he moped for much longer.”

“You moped?” You glanced at Boba with a smirk, raising a teasing brow, daring to joke with him in a way you alone could. “My big bad bounty hunter moped?”

Fennec snorted, clearly not expecting you to dare tease him in such a manner. She quickly masked her grin with a slight frown, mirth still shining in her eyes as she shook her head. You had a feeling the two of you would get along just fine.

“I didn’t mope,” he crossed his arms almost defensively, but his lips twisted into a grin. “A man can miss the love of his life.”

You looked back to Fennec with a smirk, and she rolled her eyes. “He definitely moped.”

Your comlink beeped, and the two regarded you with varying degrees of curiosity.

“Do we have room for one more?” You shrugged, nearly rolling your eyes when it chirped again. “Probably best if we don’t keep my friend waiting, she’s deadly with a wrench.”

“By all means,” Boba gestured toward the gate with a flick of his gloved hand, slipping his helmet back on. “Any friend of yours is welcome here.”

-

You almost felt bad for Ta’na.

The moment the massive gate lifted and you emerged into the moonlit desert with none other than Boba Fett by your side, her eyes widened, reflexively taking a step back. You recognized the fear that flashed in her fierce eyes, but she didn’t lower her blaster, the weapon trained on Boba.

“It’s okay, ‘Na, you’re all good,” you met her gaze and shook your head, hoping she saw that you clearly weren’t in any danger. “This day’s been full of surprises…I’d like you to meet Boba Fett. Boba, this is Ta’na.”

Her eyes only widened further, and you were glad that Fennec had been willing to wait inside. One bounty hunter at a time was the best course of action. It was ironic really, that you tended to forget most people didn’t have the experience you did.

“Kriff, you weren’t bluffing,” Ta’na crossed her arms and regarded Boba with no small degree of suspicion. “I’d say it’s a pleasure, but I’m sure you get why I have my reservations. If you love her so much, why the hell did you abandon her?”

Damn, Ta’na always came out swinging.

You flinched, shooting Boba an apologetic glance, hoping for the love of whatever gods existed, he wouldn’t take offense. But he merely chuckled, the sound nearly making you melt where you stood, and he removed his helmet, tucking it against his side.

“Then I have you to thank for keeping her safe,” he inclined his head in a gesture of respect. “Why don’t we go inside? It would be a safer place to share this tale.”

Ta’na regarded you both with slightly narrowed eyes before nodding, a sigh slipping through her lips. She begrudgingly tucked her blaster back into its holster.

“All right, but only because I trust her,” she shot you a small smirk despite her apparent unease. “This outta be good.”

-

“So wait, you’re telling me you escaped the sarlacc? Lived with Tuskens? And now you’re our Daimyo?” Ta’na leaned back in her chair, near-empty glass of spotchka in her hand. “That’s kriffing insane. I’ve never known a Daimyo before, or wanted to. And definitely haven’t run around with bounty hunters like a certain someone here.”

The dining hall was massive, but the four of you only occupied the far side of the long table, already several drinks in after the food had been cleared away.

“First time for everything,” Fennec handed her another glass of liquor, shooting you a smirk. “Some of us like to flirt with death.”

“He has pretty eyes,” you turned to Boba who was sitting next to you and met his gaze, and he shook his head with a slight chuckle, taking your hand in his bigger one underneath the table.

“You both are cute, I’ll give you that, but also terrifying,” Ta’na shifted in her seat, locking gazes with you as she took a hearty sip of the drink. “How you managed to seduce the most notorious bounty hunter in the galaxy is beyond me. I didn’t think that was possible given the whole ‘you can’t escape Boba Fett’ mantra we all heard.”

“I don’t know if I’d put it like that…” You felt your cheeks flush, gripping his hand tighter. “Because that’s all true.”

Even then you thought back to those years ago, when you’d been younger and afraid. Destined for a horrible fate…yet rescued by the unlikeliest of people and whisked into a life, a love, you’d never expected.

And somehow, you’d found it again.

“She was relentless. I never had a chance,” Boba’s matter-of-fact tone broke you from your thoughts, and you dared to shoot him a playful glare.

“Oh sure, that’s definitely how that went,” you felt his arm curl around your shoulders, drawing you closer to him, and you learned your head against his beskar-clad shoulder. “I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

Boba’s fingers slipped from your hand and caressed your inner thigh unbeknownst to the others, and you tried your best to keep a straight face. Boba, blast him, hadn’t changed his expression in the slightest, other than a subtle knowing smirk curving at the corner of his lip.

“Well, it’s getting late.” Fennec gave you a knowing look and stood to her feet, jerking her chin at you with a smirk. “I’m assuming you’re staying?”

“If that isn’t too much trouble?” You met Boba’s gaze, wanting to shoot him a mock glare as his hand slowly crept higher, sending chills down your spine.

Your body longed to react to his touch, and it was as if years hadn’t separated you, the way the heat so quickly pooled between your legs. You suddenly wished the two of you were back in Slave 1, blissfully alone, so you didn’t have to endure this torture.

“None at all,” he spoke so smoothly, entirely at ease, even as his thumb brushed over your clothed clit. “Ta’na, you’re welcome anytime.”

Your friend stood as well, gathering her things, and Fennec motioned for her to follow.

“I’ll make sure she gets home,” Fennec locked eyes with you and gave you a wink. “Have fun catching up.”

“You ever need a mechanic, lemme know,” Ta’na shot you a smirk that bode of many future conversations. “Better get home to my girl before she thinks I’m dead. Fett, it was nice meeting you…take good care of her.”

“I intend to,” his tone was slightly darker, but only just so that you might have been the only one to notice.

Well, Fennec probably did, considering that you felt your face burn hotter than the twin suns, earning another smirk from the assassin. Gods, you’d nearly forgotten how impossibly intoxicating he was.

“See ya when I see ya,” Ta’na had the audacity to shoot you a wink as well before following Fennec out of the room. “Guess I know the Daimyo’s girl now, huh. Talk about friends in high places.”

No sooner than the two had stepped out of the room, Boba’s lips were on yours, gentle at first, scooting his chair back so he could pull you into his lap to deepen the kiss.

“This okay?” He caressed your cheek, pulling back so he could meet your gaze. He almost looked worried as he scanned your face for any signs of discomfort. “Don’t wanna push you.”

“Stars, of course it’s okay,” you pressed your forehead against his, straddling him so you were comfortably nestled in his lap. “I’ve missed you, so, so much.”

He nodded, falling silent for a moment, a darkness hovering in his eyes. You held his face in your hands, fingers lightly tracing over the scars on his tan skin.

“You alright?” You pulled back so you could better gauge his expression. “Have I done something wrong?”

“No, of course not…” he sighed, gesturing at the scars on his face with a frustrated huff. “I don’t…look the way you remember. I’ve changed, I think. The sarlacc did quite some damage…I’m still healing.”

“You think I’m going to fuss over some scars? Boba…I love you for you. Not because you look a certain way.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek with a smile. “Besides, I still think you’re devilishly handsome.”

He chuckled, the sound rumbling through you and curling more heat in your core. You shifted your hips in an experimental roll and he grunted, lips parting slightly as you repeated the motion, feeling him hard as durasteel beneath you.

“Some things clearly haven’t changed,” you smirked, grinding your core against him, and he released a deep groan, running a hand through your hair.

The darkness in his eyes faded, replaced with unfiltered, raw love.

“Why don’t we retire to my rooms?” He pressed a kiss to your jawline, then dragging his lips to your pulse point on your neck. “Though, they can be ours if you want.”

“Gods, yes,” you felt him shift to stand, clinging to him as he gathered you in his arms, much like that fateful first time you’d been together. “I’d like that, Boba. A lot.”

He chuckled again, walking down the hall with you held securely against him.

“As you wish.”

-

Five years may have passed, and with it, so many tribulations - but you quickly learned that time hadn’t changed a few things, the foremost being your passion for one another.

You’d barely made it to his rooms before he had your back pressed against the cool wall, his lips swallowing your moans as he buried his fingers within you. You clung to his armor for dear life, peppering his neck and jawline with kisses, tears nearly pricking your eyes at the feeling of his impressive digits easing you open.

“Maker, you’re so good at that,” you gasped, feeling yourself already spiraling toward the precipice of your release, tightening your legs around his back with a moan. “You’re so good.”

“Did you miss this?” His voice was impossibly husky, the brush of his free hand cool against your heated skin. He circled your clit, and you clamped down on him with a shudder. “You’re so kriffing tight. Have you not been with anyone…since?”

“Gods no, I’d never.” You felt your orgasm approaching, breaths coming in ragged pants. “But it wasn’t the same, wasn’t…”

“Easy there, I’m here. Not going anywhere this time,” he pressed another kiss to your lips, so encompassing, it was all you could do to hold on as you felt yourself fluttering around him, so very close… “Gonna make you ready for my cock, okay? Let go mesh’la.”

Your release ripped through you so hard you screamed, and he kissed you hungrily as he worked you through your high. You finally slumped against him, panting for breath, and he chuckled, turning and carrying you further into his room.

“You got another one for me?” He lowered you on a large bed, and you nodded, pulling at his flight suit, and he smirked. “That’s my girl.”

It wasn’t long before you both were stripped naked, a tangle of limbs on his massive bed, skin against skin as you explored his scars, trailing kisses over his body.

“You were beautiful then, you’re beautiful now,” you kissed a particularly furrowed scar on his shoulder and he released a shuddering exhale, shifting so he was leaning over you, holding you safely between his arms.

Stars, he certainly hadn’t lost his strength. If anything, you thought he was broader.

“You’re the one who’s beautiful, ad’ika,” he smirked down at you as he lined himself with your center. “Eyes on me, princess.”

You did your best to keep your eyes locked on his even as he sank into you, the burning quickly shifting to pleasure as he held you close, capturing one of your nipples gently between his teeth as you adjusted to his size. You writhed beneath him, moans nearly chanted like a prayer, as he picked up a steady rhythm.

“You were beautiful the moment I saw you, those years ago. Strong, fierce, brave…I couldn’t let them kill you.” He kissed you again, picking up the pace, spearing you deeper. “Couldn’t let you pay your brother’s price.”

He lowered a hand to your clit, once again bringing you closer to the edge, and you ran your hands along his broad shoulders, kissing his neck, pulling him closer.

“Y-you protected me,” your voice faltered as a shudder ran through you, pleasure arcing up your spine. “Saved me. Loved me.”

“I do love you,” Boba grunted, nearing his own release, striking something devastating within you. “And if you’ll have me, I’ll make you my queen.”

That was right - he was more than a bounty hunter now. He was finding a higher purpose, something that made hope blossom in your chest even as he worked you into oblivion.

Boba Fett had been reborn, in many ways, and you were beyond moved to see him step into the identity of the man you’d always believed he was - the one he could be.

“As long as I’m with you, that’s all that matters,” you arched your back, pressing into him, as he quickened his pace, clearly near his release as well. “Boba, I’m…”

“I’m close too,” he chuckled, voice strained. He pressed another kiss to your neck, dragging his lips to the shell of your ear. “Come for me, little one.”

You didn’t need any further bidding - you clenched around him and shuddered as you came, his name on your lips, pleasure overriding any semblance of thought. The world faded away until it was just you and him, the man you loved, together.

Finally reunited.

And even as you both lay there, basking in the afterglow, it was you who pulled him close, and he let you, expression achingly soft as you wrapped your arms around his chest.

“I’m sorry you had to face so much alone,” you pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “Not just about the sarlacc. Everything. And despite it all…I think your father would be proud. You’ve risen above, were reborn.”

Boba was silent for a moment, but you could feel him thinking, even as his hands slowly caressed you.

“We both were alone. But now, we don’t have to be.” His voice was soft, gentle, even as he shifted and curled his arms around you, holding you close to his chest. “I’ve never known what it truly felt like to have a home. But this…I think this is it.”

You smiled and nodded, kissing his neck and holding him close, a warmth spreading through your heart, bleeding into your soul.

Yes, you thought.

This is home.

-

It was a quiet afternoon in the throne room, save for the occasional visitor, a luxury you rarely got to afford.

Boba sat resolute as always, helmet on, silent and commanding. Gods, you always melted when he did this - a nearly kingly air about him that was intoxicating. Whether he was in the role of bounty hunter or daimyo, he exuded power and calculating quickness, and you were constantly by his side - deadly and respected in your own right.

A trio of the young mods passed by, their laughter infectious - but even then, they still were on the lookout for trouble. You reminded yourself to make sure you gave Drash the black leather top you’d found at the market the other day. They were loyal, youthful and spirited, and you’d welcomed their company. It seemed you and Boba both had a tendency to take in the outcasts…but you wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

It was ironic, really, that you’d both ended up back on Tatooine. You remembered the first time you’d visited, when you’d been his bounty, and he’d saved you from the Klatooinian. So much had been uncertain…but you’d learned he had hidden depths. And stars, were you glad you took the leap.

His helmet shifted to meet your gaze, elegantly deadly in his beskar, and you blushed, adjusting your position on the throne’s armrest with a smirk.

“Something funny, ad’ika?” His tone was quiet, yet teasing, his helmet tilting slightly to the side as he watched you.

“Oh, just thinking about how dashing you look like this,” you smoothed your dark green shirt, something both tactical and dramatic, dyed to match his armor. “It has been quiet, not that I’m complaining.”

“I’m complaining. I think it’s time for a break, just you and I.” He looked back out over the room, tone shifting to a near growl. “In Slave 1. Even if it’s just a rotation. We need some more…alone time.”

You chuckled, shifting your weight so you were leaning against his armored shoulder. He looked back at you, and even though his face was hidden, you could sense his wry, teasing grin.

“Just like the good ole days, right?” You winked at your reflection in his visor. “I’d like that.”

Before Boba had a chance to respond, Fennec entered the room, moving quickly enough to capture both of your attentions.

“Someone called in to see you,” Fennec slid to her place on the throne’s side, eyebrow arced at you. “Want me to go kill him?”

“Him?” You frowned, glancing at Boba before looking back at Fennec. “Who was it?”

“Some guy named Naris. Looked shifty, I don’t trust him.” Fennec twirled a knife in her fingers, blaster gripped in her other hand. “What do you think?”

Naris? As in…your brother? You blinked, Boba turning to meet your gaze, his gloved hands suddenly clenched to fists. Fennec noted your reactions and raised a brow, waiting for the order.

“That’s…my brother. But…” you glanced back at Boba, then to Fennec with a scowl. “Can’t say we’re on good terms. You know the story. Where is he?”

“Said he’d he waiting in Mos Eisley,” she shrugged dismissively, yet clearly intrigued all the same. “Left a holomessage. I don’t trust it - so don’t do something stupid.”

After all the time, now he decided to show his face? You wondered what he possibly could want.

“It’s your call,” Boba’s voice rumbled through you, a protective edge forming you knew all too well.

But you were curious. You could tell he was, too. And with the two of you, there was always an adventure to be had.

“You did say you wanted a break, my love.” You shifted to stand, eyeing him playfully. “Could we take your ship?“

Boba nodded, relaying his orders to Fennec, who eagerly listened with a dark grin.

“You sure you’re ready?” He stood, green beskar glinting in the firelight, helmet trained on you.

Life never was guaranteed, but surprises were. You didn’t know what lay ahead, but you did know you wouldn’t face them alone. Neither of you would. For the first time in your lives, you had a family, and that was all you needed.

“Yes.” You nodded, checking your blaster at your hip and the vibroblade strapped to your thigh. “Besides, it’s time for a family reunion, he should meet my husband, right? He did introduce us in a way, after all.”

Taglist: @justarandomfamdomblog @die-herzlos-engel @tortor-mcgee @ididsingupforthis @mxkyrie @ceapa-mica @everythingyouwanted @freerangesweets @deewithani @tranace-con

[somedaylazysomeday]

Misbehaving - Part Three

Commander Cody x fem!reader (no use of y/n)

Rating: Explicit, NC-17, lemon, etc. Minors DNI!

Word Count: 3,800

Warnings: angst, slight dubcon in an established relationship, spanking, underprepared piv, rough sex, use of a safeword, hurt/comfort, slight AU

Previous | Next | Masterlist

---

Cody was an even-tempered man.

You supposed that was part of what made him such an excellent commander. A marshal commander, at that - one of the highest-ranked men in the entirety of the Grand Army of the Republic. Everyone trusted Cody to do his job, from his generals to the men who served under his command. He made the right choices, that was as indisputable as the position of the planets in the galaxy. You had never seen Cody less than professional.

Until you did.

You hadn’t expected him to come to you on Coruscant when he did. He couldn’t always tell you exactly when he was going to be on-planet for security reasons, but he tried to keep you reasonably in the loop. A vague idea of when to expect him was better than knowing nothing at all, and you loved that he did that for you.

You had been shocked to answer a firm knock on your apartment door and find your boyfriend standing on the other side. The circumstances surrounding his presence were strange, something about being called away on urgent business that ended up being less urgent than the communications had insinuated. In fact, Cody confided, he couldn’t understand why he had needed to accompany General Kenobi back to Coruscant at all. The Jedi was left running circles around the Senate with his old padawan while Cody waited to receive updates on the total planetary takeover the 212th and 501st were attempting.

In any case, you were happy to have him around. Without the presence of his men on-planet, Cody had taken to staying with you most of the time rather than sleeping in the barracks. For nearly a week, you had lived together, half-pretending that Cody was a normal military man stationed on Coruscant and that he wouldn’t be shipped out again with only hours of notice to fight in the galaxy-wide war.

You slept by Cody’s side, kissed him goodbye in the morning before you both left for work, then you came home to share a meal together. It was bliss, especially since his distraction at the odd mission hadn’t extended to the bedroom. No, Cody was hyper-focused when it came to your pleasure, no matter what else was going on. He was always attentive to your needs, no matter what they were.

Which was why you were surprised when he didn’t come home one night.

Part of you wondered if he had been called back to the front with no notice at all… but that didn’t make sense. Cody had always managed to get some kind of message to you, even if it was something small and subtle, or originating from an unfamiliar comlink, or passed through his men.

There had been nothing of the sort this time. He just… hadn’t come back.

You were a frazzled mess by the time the sky had darkened. Should you contact Cody’s general? Technically speaking, Cody wasn’t supposed to be in a relationship and could get in trouble for it, but General Kenobi hadn’t seemed like the type to care overly much about the particulars of GAR regulations. And at least you would know if Cody was okay. 

It seemed that you had reached for your comlink a dozen times and pulled your hand away a dozen more when you heard the noise of someone tapping at the keypad outside of your door. 

You had surged to your feet by the time the door slid open to reveal Cody. Your handsome commander stepped inside, his face blank and his motions sharp as he entered the apartment. He didn’t speak, and you caught the way he was clutching his helmet so hard that his knuckles were pale.

“Cody?” you asked gently. “I was worried when you didn’t come home. Are you- Is everything okay?”

Cody’s face turned toward you, his eyes lacking all of their familiar warmth. That was the least concerning part, though - you were stricken by the way he didn’t seem to react at the sight of you, like you were some stranger he had never met and never would.

“Cody?” you asked again, stepping a bit closer but stopping when you noticed the speed of his breathing.

His gaze caught on yours. That horrifying blankness faded slightly, but his eyes were bright - too bright. There was an edge of something in them, something that looked like desperation and the beginnings of hopelessness.

“Cody, talk to me,” you pled. “What happened?”

Cody shook his head slowly, but the motion didn’t stop. “I can’t- can’t talk about it. I need you. I need… to be in control.”

You nodded immediately. “Whatever you need, just tell me.”

“Strip,” he ordered. “Then get on your bed, hands and knees.”

“Yes, Commander,” you replied, more worried than ever when that failed to elicit a response from him. Still, you did as he said, retreating to your bedroom while you fumbled at the buttons of your shirt and pushed your comfortable lounge pants away. When you had made it to your room, a trail of clothing in your wake, you climbed onto the bed and balanced on your hands and knees before you glanced back.

Cody was standing just inside the door, watching you intently. He was still wearing his full, orange-painted armor, but his hands dropped to undo the piece of plastoid that covered his crotch. It was the only piece he removed before he stepped to the edge of the bed behind you. 

“Down to your elbows,” he told you, voice still strange.

You obeyed, widening your knees to grant him better access to your core. Unfortunately, you weren’t anywhere near ready for him. You hadn’t exactly been thinking sexy thoughts that evening and it was only worse with your lover there. This mood was something you had never seen from Cody and you were too worried to be aroused.

His hand cupped your mound, thumb stroking over the delicate lips of your sex. You shivered at the feeling of his warm hand surrounding such a sensitive area and made a small sound of pleasure when the pad of his thumb pushed closer to press against your clit.

Your body began to relax, blooming for the man you loved, but slower than you would have liked. Cody apparently felt the same way, because his other hand cracked solidly against your ass cheek. You gave a surprised grunt at the unexpected contact. Cody always liked to warn you when you were getting a spanking because he wanted to be thanked.

As soon as the thought crossed your mind, Cody sighed. “Forgetting to say ‘thank you’? You’ve already lost your manners. That’ll be five more and a pussy smack.”

That seemed like a steep punishment considering he had forgotten to warn you. “But-”

“We could make it ten and two if you’d rather,” Cody said sharply.

“No, sir, I’m sorry,” you apologized.

“Good girl. Count.”

And that was the only signal he gave you before his tensed palm rained down again and again on your cheeks. You kept up with the first two or three, but got lost in the ‘thank you, sir’s and fell behind. Your efforts cut off entirely when Cody’s palm connected between your spread legs with a wet smack, leaving you squealing and trying not to writhe.

There was a typical swell of sensation with a spanking. You had learned that much over the course of your relationship with Cody. The collision between hand and cheek left your skin, muscle, and fat rippling in the wake - a process that was mirrored by the way the sensations rippled over your skin. Spankings built heat slowly, spreading until it eventually gathered in your core. A properly delivered spanking left you trembling, wet, and begging for your commander.

A spank to your pussy was different. Instead of allowing the sensation to build, it was forced into your nerves, direct and immediate in a way that was overwhelming more often than not. It was meant to be overwhelming, the most pleasurable punishment Cody could deliver… and the most punishing pleasure.

The five spanks hadn’t been enough to build a slow heat in your core, but the feeling of his hand clapping against the lips of your sex pushed the intensity immediately to a level you weren’t quite ready for. Instead of scraping together your shuddering brain cells enough to thank Cody as he wanted, you were left gaping blankly at your pillows as you tried to process the sheer amount of sensation stemming from that single action.

“Ten and two it is,” Cody bit out.

Another five spanks hit your heated ass, the tenth connecting with a sharp noise so loud that your neighbors probably heard it. You got to nine, broke off to fight back a grunt at the hit, and made it halfway through counting the tenth when he spanked the rapidly swelling lips of your sex firmly and you cut off to catch your breath.

“Still not counting?”

You frowned, the expression going unseen since it was aimed at the mattress rather than at Cody. “Sorry, but-”

“But?” Cody repeated, voice filled with mocking. “But you’re not trying hard enough. No excuses, nothing to hide behind. You don’t have to count these last five, but you’ll feel them.”

“Wait-”

The first spank took your breath away. Cody was a strong man. He claimed it was because he had been engineered that way, but he also spent time in the gym, working to increase that strength even further. He had never used that strength against you, though, especially not in the bedroom.

This probably wasn’t his full strength, either, but it was enough to push more weight onto your elbows, rocking you forward and back until your cheek was planted against your bedspread. The last hit was hard enough that your knees briefly left the bed, your body suspended between your elbows and the force of his hand against your ass.

“Easy enough without the counting, huh?” Cody asked. “And that seems to have done the trick.” Two of his fingers pushed into your wet core with no warning, forcing your breath out in a surprised huff.

You were adventurous in the bedroom, especially with Cody there to encourage and support you. Even so, this was riding the line of what you considered acceptable, but that last set of spanks had filled your mind with a pleasantly buzzing numbness. You were wet, you could feel that much, and what he was doing felt good, if a little overwhelming.

As Cody’s fingers scissored in your heat, you struggled to ride the pleasure without letting it crash over you and destroy you in its wake. Those sensations grew tenfold as he began to pull his fingers out and plunge them steadily back into you. It didn’t feel bad, even if it was starting to not feel entirely good. You were certainly wet enough to allow him inside, but you were concerned about non-physical parts of this.

You lifted yourself back up onto your elbows, preparing to glance back at Cody and ask him to move a little slower, but the question died in your throat as Cody gripped your hips and sank his length inside of you. 

Over your strangled cry, you heard Cody give a hoarse grunt of his own. He didn’t give you a moment to breathe, moving immediately into a punishing rhythm that left you gasping and trying to move enough to make the angle something less sharp and stabbing.

“Cody-”

“Commander,” he reminded sharply, slamming his hips into yours.

Impossibly, his pace picked up from there, knocking you from your precarious perch on your elbows until your cheek was pressed against the bedspread once more. The fog from the spanking was starting to fade and you were growing steadily more aware that this session wasn’t working for you. You liked rough sex, but you had to build up to it and you just… hadn’t. It was too much, too sudden, and you needed him to slow things down.

“Cody,” you said, trying to sound more firm even through the way his pounding impacted the flow of your speech.

Cody snarled behind you. “Commander.”

He reached forward, gripping your wrists. For a moment, you relaxed, thinking he was going to drape himself over you, your fingers laced together while he breathed praises in your ear. That was one of his favorite things to do at the end of a rough session, and you always enjoyed it. Somehow, that made you feel just as treasured than you did when he used his mouth on you or spent hours teasing you to an overwhelming climax.

That beat of relaxation on your part was enough for him to lever your arms behind you, press them against your back with one hand, and pull your hips back toward him with the other hand. The pressure on the small of your back pushed your ass up further, letting Cody’s hard cock thrust even deeper and your mouth fell open into a shocked gasp.

“Cody - Red.”

The time it took Cody to process the safeword was long enough that he had driven himself back into you and your inner muscles spasmed around his length. It was not a pleasant feeling and you gave a small, pained grunt.

Cody froze there for an impossibly long moment and you could almost feel the way he was processing the best way to proceed from there. He released your arms and you immediately brought them back in front of yourself, trying to push up off the mattress.

One hand pressed against your ass and you flinched - something you were sure he noticed with how his touch lightened even further. “I’m going to pull out of you now, okay?”

You nodded.

The thick slide of Cody’s cock through your folds was one you had always enjoyed, but it was thoroughly unpleasant now. You shuddered when his swollen head finally slipped out of you, trying again to lever yourself up with shaking arms.

Cody’s hand pressed against your hip. “No, stay there.”

You were reluctant to follow any more orders, but your nerves were still buzzing with overwhelmed input, so you did. The only movement you made was to shift so you were lying on one side. You let your eyes close, mostly to disguise the tears that were welling in the aftermath of the adrenaline rush.

“Mesh’la,” Cody said from the doorway an instant after a tear had rolled down your cheek anyway. You opened your eyes to see him looking stricken, that haunted desperation almost solid in his eyes again. He was holding a glass of water, but didn’t make any move to get closer to you. “Are you-? I’m sorry. Kriff, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s-” You cut yourself off to fight back the pinched sound in your own voice. You wouldn’t do either of you any favors if you started crying in earnest. At the same time, you wouldn’t do either of you the injustice of lying and telling him it was fine.

“What can I do?” Cody asked, his voice low and soothing. Even his body language was soft and nonthreatening, his broad shoulders curling inward in a way that made him look smaller than you had ever seen him, even with the armor he was still wearing.

“Water,” you replied simply. 

He started for the bed eagerly, but checked his pace before he got too close. By the time he reached out to hand you the glass, he had been moving at a pace that was slow enough to be nonthreatening. You took the glass without any of your earlier hesitation. You had cooled down slightly and knew Cody wasn’t going to do anything to hurt you. Also, you were incredibly thirsty.

In only moments, you had drained the glass and set it gently on the bedside table. Cody was watching you, scarcely hidden fear in the depths of his eyes. 

“Cody,” you murmured, your voice hiccuping awkwardly between one syllable and the next.

“What is it, cyare?” he asked tenderly. “What can I do for you? Anything you need.”

“Take off your armor and hold me?” you requested. 

After such a short hesitation that you barely noticed it, Cody started to work at the plastoid plates, stripping them away and setting them gently but haphazardly on the floor of your room. He was clearly aiming for softness of sound rather than neatness - a rarity for the fastidious commander.

When he had finished and was dressed only in his black body glove, he hesitated again at the edge of the mattress, but when you held out a hand in his direction, he took it immediately. Cody had laced his fingers through yours by the time he settled on the bed beside you, reaching slowly with his free hand as he wrapped it around you. 

Cody wanted to talk. That much was clear as his breathing paused and caught occasionally, only to be released in a heavy sigh. He never spoke, but it didn’t take long for you to realize that he was carefully tracing every mark he had left on your skin:

The tender flesh of your forearms where he had anchored them behind your back.

The finger-shaped bruises rapidly forming on your hips from where he had held you.

The aching fullness of your cheeks from where he had delivered those brutal spanks.

“I’m so sorry, mesh’la,” he murmured over and over until your heart was aching at least as much as anything else.

“I won’t lie and say it’s okay, Cody,” you told him, feeling momentarily worse when his breath whooshed out like you had hit him. “But what matters more is that you stopped when I asked you to. That’s the most important thing.”

Cody relaxed slightly against you, but tensed again when you amended, “Well, the second most important thing.”

“What’s the most important?” he asked, voice careful. 

“Are you okay?” you returned, your suspicions confirmed when his gaze skated away immediately and decisively. “You never come on that strong, especially without building up to it first. You told me you needed control and I told you I could handle it. I couldn’t and I’m sorry about that.”

Cody was shaking his head before you even finished speaking. “I should never have given you the option, little one. I knew better and I did it anyway. There’s nothing you need to be sorry about.”

You hummed skeptically. “But can I ask why? I’ve never- never seen you like that.”

Cody’s warm body shuddered against you and your eyes whipped to scan his face. Sure enough, it had crumpled in a way you had never seen before as tears streamed down his face in pained catharsis. In a moment, he had gone from your stoic commander to a broken man aged beyond his years. Your heart shattered for him.

You sat up and wrapped yourself around him before you could even register that you were planning to move. Cody - strong, stubborn Cody - let you tuck his head against your chest while you rocked him back and forth, murmuring soothing nonsense until the hot tears stopped flowing and he was left shaking like a man freezing to death in your arms.

“My- my men,” he gasped eventually, rushing the words out between painful shudders. “I left them and- and they-” 

He broke off, making a sound of pain so profound that it sounded harsher than anything a human should be capable of producing. Your arms tightened around him just as his did the same around you.

“Shh, shhhh…” you told him. “If it’s too much, you don’t have to tell me anything.”

Cody shook his head. In choppy bits and strangled pieces, he told you what had happened, outlining a tragedy on a far-off planet called Umbara. Even as he offered the explanation, you got the picture of a Jedi doing the unthinkable, men forced into a horrible position, and a universe-shaking betrayal of trust and the chain of command, along with a disregard for lives so reckless that you were trembling just as hard as Cody.

“I understand now,” you assured the man you loved. “You needed to feel in-control of something. It’s okay, Cody.”

“It isn’t,” he disagreed. “I betrayed my men, abandoned them when they needed me. And then I came here, falling apart, and tried to use you to glue myself back together. I almost shattered you at the same time.”

“But you didn’t,” you reminded him firmly, silencing his budding protests with a kiss. “Even facing something no one should ever have to - and taking on guilt that was never yours to carry - you stopped when I needed you to. You recognized our safeword and then did what you could to make things right.”

Cody’s arms tightened another fraction before they loosened. You watched his eyelids flutter closed, his dark lashes only drawing attention to the circles beneath them.

“And you cannot blame yourself for this, Cody,” you insisted, loathe as you were to disturb this moment of peace. “You are just as much a victim of this situation as any of your men. Maybe you weren’t on Umbara when things went wrong, but you were following orders just like every one of the 212th.”

“If I had been there-”

“You weren’t there,” you interrupted. “You weren’t there because you were doing your duty and standing by your general. There’s no way of knowing whether anything would have gone differently if you were there. Stars, that Jedi may have killed you if you didn’t go along with his orders.”

Your grip tightened involuntarily as you thought over your own words. Yes, that was an extremely likely outcome. If your brave boyfriend had been on Umbara as the tide began to shift, he would have said something and - if it came down to it - why would the rogue Jedi have cared about one more clone’s life if he was ordering them to die by the thousands?

“When do you leave?” you asked instead of voicing any of those very unhelpful thoughts.

“Oh-five-hundred,” he said. “It’s the earliest the general could get jump clearance. The men are holding the planet right now, but we need to get there as soon as possible. There’s too much chance that the locals will rise against them or that the trauma will be too much for the survivors… We need to get there. I need to get there.”

You kissed Cody’s furrowed forehead. You knew better than to tell him to sleep. There probably wouldn’t be any sleep tonight, not for either of you. But for the next few hours, Cody was safe in your arms and you were safe in his. 

It was enough for the night.

---

Author's Note - I know Cody and Obi-Wan were both on Umbara when things went wrong. This is a slight AU imagining that they were both pulled from the planet for fear of interference.

Thanks for reading and sorry about the angst! Feel free to let me know what you thought!

I don't offer a taglist for NSFW fics, but you can check out other works on my masterlist!

[enaelyork]

Nébuleuse - Preview [O.Krennic x Tarkin Daughter]

There are times in my life when you just have to stop me from writing. 🫣🫣

I'm little late so i post a preview for next chapters. @alotofrandomfangirling, @fenharel-enaste, @starlady66, @lady-of-imladris

TAGGING LIST HERE

~ O. Krennic

—We'll stop the bullshit. You first, telling your friends you've had enough to drink and going home. You're going to do it, seriously, otherwise your dear dad will be informed first thing in the morning of your little nocturnal follies. Bedtime is well past for children your age.

Hysterical laughter. It's so thunderous that even the music doesn't distort it.

—You know what ? Go put your dick back in Brenda's pussy and fuck off, asshole!

The communication cuts off, silencing my comlink before I have anything to say, leaving me with a deep nervous breakdown that agitates me.

I'm going to kill her.

Of course. How could I have been dumb enough to think that. Tarkin didn't send his younger daughter to me just to spy on me - if that was really the purpose - but to drive me crazy. And that's exactly what is happening: this degenerate gives me murderous impulses that I find it increasingly difficult to repress. You don't call people like that in the middle of the night by mistake, twice. You will have to take it now. I think, especially stating an excellent excuse to find out where she is and bring her back to her room by the skin of her back. Because it's a safe bet if I base myself on the voices around her that the outcome of this evening will put me in a bad mood if I don't decide to intervene.

--

V. Tarkin

Everything is perfectly fine.

My boss showed up at the East Plaza party after I mistakenly called him twice—and it's clearly not my fault that my best friend's name starts the same as that motherfucker's—. He planted himself in front of me like an asshole and I looked at him with all the anger that my wookie disguise still allows me before insulting him - and it was probably because he had never seen a wookie make an obscene gesture that he seemed so shocked -. Then, I agreed to follow him before he tussled with Erkani, and I went back in, but not without rubbing against his thigh, to warm him up on the way. I still feel the warmth of his hands on my waist and his warm voice telling me that he will never end up above me other than in an organization chart of the hierarchy.

Absolutely the opposite of what his body - and his hands - told me.

That's because there was probably more alcohol than blood in my veins.

Really, perfect evening, too bad I remember it so well.

--

[jedi-hawkins]

Tattoine

3.8k Words

Pairings: Jedi oc x Obi Wan

Warnings: None, SFW

Previous Chapter

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Escape!

After fleeing Naboo, our band of heroes manage to make it to the barren desert planet of Tatooine. Here they must make much-needed repairs to their ship before they can return to Coruscant for the Queen to make her plea for help to Chancellor Valorum.

This planet holds more mysteries than expected, and each corner may hide more danger for the young travelers. Perhaps one may reveal a new ally instead.

As Bryn, Obi-wan and Padme walk through the corridors of the ship, Obi-wan's comlink beeps again.

"Obi-wan." Qui-gon's voice says from the little device.

"Yes Master?"

"Bring that astromec droid that aided in our escape along with you. You should find him in the engineering bay."

"Of course, we'll be up in a moment Master."

Padme pauses at a doorway to the left of the hallway and presses the access panel on the wall. "In here." She says.

The lights turn on as  Obi-wan and Bryn pass through the door and the droid in the corner turn to the trio entering. He rolls up to Bryn, whirring and beeping at her.

Bryn lets out a light laugh. "Yes, hello little friend. It's okay, I'll be alright."

"You can understand him?" Obi-wan asks in surprise.

"Better than most. I still have to rely on communicators for more comprehensive conversation, but I can get by with more general vocabulary." Bryn replies. "I found it's a useful skill to be able to work and speak with droids. They're often underestimated. Come on little one, the Queen wants to see you." She says, smiling at the blue astromech droid.

"Her Majesty's chambers are up this way." Padme gestures, leading the way with the droid beside her. Obi-wan and Bryn follow, the latter leaning heavily on her partner's arm.

The door to the Queen's Chambers glides open smoothly to reveal the young teen perched on a throne. Padme joins the other handmaidens at the Queen's right side and Obi-wan helps Bryn over to stand beside Qui-gon.

"Is this the droid?" The guard captain asks, gesturing to the dirty droid rolling in after the two Jedi padawans.

Bryn nods, still leaning on Obi-wan for support. "Yes, sir. This is him."

The Captain looks the astromech up and down. "An extremely well put together little droid. Without a doubt, it saved the ship, as well as our lives."

"It is to be commended." The Queen remarks. "What is it's number?"

The blue droid lets our a series of beeps.

"R2-D2, your Majesty." Bryn translates.

Queen Amidala bows her head to the droid. "Thank you, Artoo Detoo. You have proven to be very loyal. Padme," She glances over to her first handmaiden. "Clean this droid up the best you can. It deserves our gratitude."

As Padme escorts Artoo into a side chamber, the Queen turns back to the Guard Captain. "Captain Panaka, Continue."

The Captain shifts his weight nervously, glancing at the three Jedi next to him.

Qui-gon steps forward. "Your Majesty, we are headed for a remote planet called Tatooine. It is a system far beyond the reach of the Trade Federation. There we will be able to make needed repairs, then travel on to Coruscant."

Captain Panaka hold up a hand in protest. "Your Majesty, Tatooine is very dangerous. It's controlled by an alliance of gangs called the Hutts. I do not agree with the Jedi on this."

Bryn takes her weight back from Obi-wan, swaying slightly. "You should trust in Master Jinn's judgement, your Majesty. Our options are slim, and he has weighed all of them."

The Queen looks Bryn up and down, taking in her blood-stained robes. "You're the one who took the shot for Padme?"

Bryn nods.

"I remember you, Padawan Caro. You are very brave. You also helped secure the palace before I ascended the throne, didn't you?" Queen Amidala continues. "Very well, I have faith in you, so Tatooine it is. You are all dismissed."

Captain Panaka sends a sideways glance to the Jedi before leaving the Queen's chamber.

Qui-gon gestures for the two padawans to follow after him towards the bridge. "Bryn , I left a spare pair of robes in the galley. Join us when you're done changing."

She nods and starts to leave the main corridor, but Obi-wan catches her when she wobbles again.

"Do you need help?" He asks, worry layering his voice.

She gently pushes his arms away. "Thanks, but I'm fine, just getting my head back."

"Alright, if you're sure." He says, turning to follow his master to the bridge.

The door to the galley slides open and the lights turn on. Bryn moves over to a table where a pile of folded robes rest. She begins to strip her crusted robes off her body, careful of the stitches on her side. Injuries like this are no stranger to Bryn, she once finished out a mission Dantooine after dislocating her shoulder. Given, that was just a reconnaissance assignment, but it still wasn't fun.

Bryn steels herself as she lifts her tunic over her head, but the expected shooting pain never reaches her side. She looks down at her ribs and where the blaster had struck her, beneath a blue bacta bandage, is a neat row of stitches. She tentatively sways her body side to side and murmurs only slightly when she feels the stitches pulling in her raw, healing skin.

"Thank Maker for bacta." She mutters to herself as she begins to pull on the clean robes.

The sweet scent of seedarwud and eukaliptis wafts from the fabric. Bryn takes a deep breath in, as a warmth washes over her. The robes must have been Obi-wan's, Bryn would recognize that smell anywhere. They hang a little looser than her normal robes, but all she has to do is cinch her utility belt close to her waist. Bryn pulls her boots back on, slides her arms into her cloak and quickly re-braids her hair before walking back up to the bridge.

Qui-gon and Obi-wan stand behind Captain Panaka, gazing at one of the navigation screens.

"What's our status?" Bryn says as she strides through the door with ease.

"We're almost there." Qui-gon replies without moving his eyes from the screen.

Obi-wan looks over to Bryn and his eyes widen in curiosity when he notices she's no longer hunched in pain. "Are you alright?" He asks her in a low voice.

"Of course, just a scratch." She replies with a wink. "Look, there's Tatooine."

One of the navigators presses a few buttons near the screen in front of him. "There's a settlement just below us. A spaceport, looks like."

"Land near the outskirts." Qui-gon instructs. 'We don't want to attract any unwanted attention."

"I'll go and start evaluating what repairs we'll need." Bryn says. "Obi-wan, can you come give me a hand?"

Qui-gon dismisses the two padawans with a nod and turns to speak to Captain Panaka. Bryn leads the way back down to the engineering bay.

"Alright," she says. "Best start with checking the propulsion systems. Try accessing the diagnostics program through that terminal. That way we can know if there's any problems with the power converters, fuel lines and such."

Obi-wan nods and moves over to the screen Bryn gestured to and begins swiping through the operations. Bryn opens up the tool chest and pulls out a wrench, which she uses to loosen up one of the floor panels. Once the hardware bay below is accessible, Bryn hops down to assess the damage.

"Obi-wan?" She says.

"What is it?"

"Do you feel something?"

"What do you mean?" Obi-wan replies.

"There's just something, off." Bryn says, sticking her head up above the floor to look at Obi-wan. "Something in the Force."

He closes his eyes momentarily and steadies his breathing. "Yes, I feel it too. Curious..."

The two connect eyes for a moment before returning to the task at hand. Bryn ducks back into the hardware bay and immediately, she can see many of the cables need to be replaced. Her heart sinks when her eyes fall on the hyperdrive generator.

Just as Bryn pops her head up from the bay to inform Obi-wan of the damage, Jar Jar bursts through the door.

"Obi-wan, pleeese, no mesa go!" He cries, falling at Obi-wan's feet.

"You must." Qui-gon says, striding in wearing a farmer's cloak. "You'll make things less conspicuous.

"Qui-gon's right." Obi-wan replies. "Sorry, Jar Jar."

"Oh pleeese! Pleeese no! Bryna, come with us?" The gungan says, turning to the young padawan's head poking out from the floor.

"May I, Master?" Bryn asks.

Qui-gon simply nods. "What's the damage?"

Bryn hops up out of the hardware bay. "Well a lot of the cables need to be replaced, and the hyperdrive generator is gone. We'll need a new one."

"Okay then, come with us and you can point out what we need." Qui-gon replies. "Can you handle everything here, Obi-wan?"

"Of course, Master." He replies.

Qui-gon beckons the two padawans to move closer. "We must keep our wits about us young padawans. Do not let them send any transmissions, Obi-wan." He says. "Be wary... I sense a disturbance in the Force."

Bryn and Obi-wan make eye contact with each other before nodding.

"Yes, Master." Obi-wan replies.

"We felt it too, Master." Bryn adds.

"I'm sure it will reveal itself in time." Qui-gon says, matter-of-factly. "Come, Bryn. Radio us with any concerns, Obi-wan."

Obi-wan catches Bryn's sleeve before she leaves. "Be careful out there." He says.

She smiles back at him. "Of course Obi-wan. All we're doing is going to the market. We'll be back before you know it."

He reaches a hand into his robe and holds out a single Republic credit. "Get me a souvenir?"

Bryn raises an eyebrow in curiosity. "A souvenir? I think there will be pretty slim pickings out here, especially for your budget."

Obi-wan shakes his head. "Doesn't matter what it is, so long as you're the one who brings it back to me."

Bryn smiles and pockets the credit. "Very well. Be back soon, Padawan Kenobi."

As Bryn is striding across the sand to catch up to Qui-gon and Jar Jar, a voice behind her catches her attention.

"Wait!"

It's Captain Panaka.

Bryn stops beside Qui-gon as the Captain and Padme run up to meet them.

"Her Highness commands you to take her handmaiden with you. She wishes for her to observe the local-"

Qui-gon raises his hand, cutting Panaka off. "No more commands from Her Highness today, Captain. This spaceport is not going to be pleasant."

The Captain shakes his head. "The Queen wishes it. She is curious about this planet."

"Is she now?" Bryn says, her gaze set on Padme in simple blue robes.

Padme holds the padawan's gaze. "I've been trained in defense. I can take care of myself."

The Captain lets out a heavy sigh. "Don't make me go back and tell her you refuse."

"I don't have time for this." Qui-gon says, frustration building in his voice.

"I'll vouch for her, master." Bryn speaks up.

Qui-gon shakes his head again. "Fine. But she's your responsibility." He points at Padme, "Stay close to Padawan Caro."

Qui-gon leads the way with Jar Jar nearly tripping over his cloak. Padme and Bryn follow a few steps behind and Artoo whistles along beside them.

"This planet is so strange." Padme remarks as they move along. "What do these people do for their lives?"

"Moisture farming, for the most part." Qui-gon replies. "But there are a few indigenous tribes and scavengers. The few spaceports like this one are havens for those who do not wish to be found."

Padme nods, glancing around nervously. "Like us."

Bryn reaches over and nudges the young girl, giving her a reassuring smile.

In front of them, Jar Jar is muttering to himself. "Dissen very very bad." He stumbles over his own feet and steps into a puddle of ooze that Qui-gon had moved around. "Ohh, icky-icky goo."

"Master," Bryn calls out, "It would probably be best to try one of the smaller dealers."

The Jedi master nods and gestures for Bryn to lead the way. A small junk shop off to the side catches her eye. It looks pretty unassuming, but the large pile of broken ships behind it looks promising.

The small band of travelers step into the dingy shop and a pudgy blue toydarian buzzes over to them.

"Ha, chuba da naga?" He asks in the local huttese.

"Achuta," Bryn replies. "Chut chut. Mwa huttese sa ree goola. Chuba ca tinka baseek?" She continues.

The toydarian raises an eyebrow. "You're right, your hutteese is terrible. What do you want?"

Qui-gon steps forward. "I need parts for a J-type 327 Nubian."

The shopkeeper rubs his chin. "Ahh, yes, yes. Nubian. We have lots of that. What kinda junk?" He asks before shouting over his shoulder in huttese. "Boy, get in here! Now!"

Bryn nudges Artoo forward, "Here, our droid has a list of what we need."

The little droid rolls forward just as a young boy runs in from the junkyard out back. Bryn's heart lurches at the sight of him. He's so young. She thinks to herself. He's dressed in ragged clothes and covered in dirt, but there's something about him. Maker, he deserves better.

The shopkeeper waves the boy over, speaking again in huttese. "What took you so long?"

The boy replies, "I was cleaning the bin like you told me-"

"Never mind!" The toydarian interrupts. "Watch the store, I've got some selling to do." His eyes narrow slyly as he turns to Qui-gon. "Sooo, let me take- a thee out back. Ni you'll find what you need."

Qui-gon starts to follow the shopkeeper, but glances over at Jar-Jar, who is fiddling with something off of one of the work benches. "Bryn-"

"I've got him, you go." She replies instantly. Binks babysitting it is. She walks over to him and pulls the piece of metal out of his hands. "Don't touch anything, Jar Jar."

As she sets the part back on the bench, she notices the way the young boy is looking at Padme.

"Are you an angel?" He pipes up eventually.

"A what?" She replies, startled.

"An angel," the boy repeats. "I've heard the deep space pilots talk about them. The live on some star, I think."

Bryn nods, "I know what you're talking about. They actually live on the moons of Eiago, very far away."

"They are the most beautiful creatures in the universe." The boy continues as he fiddles with a machine part, "They are good and kind, and so pretty they make even the most hardened spice pirate cry."

Bryn smiles slightly, seeing a pink flush come to Padme's face.

"I've never heard of angels." She says shyly.

The boy tilts his head to the side. "You must be one. Maybe you just don't know it."

Bryn moves over and squats down next to him. "You're a funny little boy. How do you know so much?"

He smiles. "I listen to all the traders and star pilots who come through here. I'm a pilot you know, and someday I'm going to fly away from this place."

"You're a pilot?" Bryn asks.

"Mm-hmm." The boy nods, "All my life."

Bryn glances around the dirty shop. "And how long have you been here?"

"Since I was very little, three, I think." The boy says, reaching for a nearby grease rag. "My mom and I were sold to Gardulla the Hutt, but she lost us, betting on the Podraces, to Watto, who's a lot better master than Gardulla, I think."

Padme's brow wrinkles. "You're, you're a slave?"

The boy scowls at her question. "I am a person! My name is Anakin."

It's obvious Padme regrets what she said. "I'm sorry." She replies. "I don't fully understand. This is a strange world to me."

Anakin looks her up and down. "You're a strange girl to me."

Suddenly a little droid that Jar Jar was investigating jumps to life, startling the others. The Gungan tries to restrain the droid, but it slips out of his grip.

"Hit the nose!" Anakin shouts.

Jar Jar trips over himself trying to catch the droid circling around his feet. Bryn thrusts out her hand and focuses on pushing the droid's nose. Thankfully the force aids her and the droid quickly folds back into it's dormant state.

Anakin gazes at the girl in long robes in wonder. "Woah, how'd you do that?"

Bryn just smiles at the boy, "Oh, that's just a trick I know."

"Where did you learn it?" he prods further.

She shrugs, "Ehm, a system. Far, far away from here."

Padme rises an eyebrow at her friend's obscure answers.

"I've heard rumors that Jedi can do magic like that. Are you a Jedi?" Anakin asks.

Bryn kneels down in front of Anakin. "There's no such thing as magic."

The boy huffs. "You didn't answer my question. Are you a Jedi knight?"

"Not yet," the young padawan replies. "But hopefully one day I will be."

"I wish I could be a Jedi." Anakin says wistfully. "Then I could be invincible."

Bryn reaches out and grabs his shoulders. "Being a Jedi does not make you invincible, Anakin. In fact, it makes you more vulnerable."

"But how? A Jedi doesn't have any weaknesses."

Bryn looks the young boy in the eye. "Do you promise you can keep a secret?"

The boy nods eagerly.

Bryn gently reaches into the folds of her robes and brings out her first lightsaber. "Here," She says, holding it out for Anakin to take. "Be very careful." She says.

Anakin's eyes widen as he gently takes the metal hilt in his hands. "I've heard of these. Is this what a laser sword looks like?"

Bryn laughs, "It's called a lightsaber. And it is every Jedi's greatest weakness."

"How?" He asks, turning it over in his hands.

Padme steps forward, holding a cautionary hand out. "Bryn, it might not be best-"

"It's alright, I trust him." She replies. "Once someone gets their own lightsaber, it becomes their entire life."

Anakin continues running his small hands over the intricate pieces of metal. "How is it your life?"

Bryn gently takes the lightsaber back from the boy. "Well, when a Jedi is ready they make a promise to dedicate their life to something greater than themselves. They are pledging to protect the innocent and stand against the dark forces of the universe, even if that means giving their life for another. This weapon doesn't just represents that promise, it is that promise." 

Anakin watches as Bryn clips the saber back to her belt beside it's partner. "How to Jedi get a lightsaber?" 

"They'll build their saber, piece by piece; it's a process that can take weeks." Bryn says with a smile. "My master taught me and one day I will teach a student of my own."

"And who are you?" the boy asks.

"I am Jedi padawan Bryn-ayla Del Caro, it's very nice to meet you, Anakin." Bryn replies.

Anakin's eyes float down to his feet. "How do you become a Jedi?"

"Well," Bryn takes a breath, "There is something called the Force. It is the energy that flows through everything in the universe, connecting it all together. If an individual is trained properly, they can learn to interact with the Force, and they can become a Jedi."

"So anyone can do it?" He asks shyly.

"Some are born with a stronger connection than others, but that only gives them potential." Bryn replies. "Here, let's try something. Lay your hands on top of mine and close your eyes."

She holds both of her hands out, palms facing up and Anakin follows her direction. "Now," she says, "Feel yourself connect to the floor below you. Feel the air around you, Padme and I in the room with you. Feel the scrap around the shop, even the market outside. Now try to reach out to the energy flowing through all of it. Reach out with your energy and try to connect with it."

Anakin's eyelids flutter as he concentrates on Bryn's words. After a few moments he opens his eyes and lets out a defeated sigh. "Nothing." He says. "I didn't feel anything. I guess I'm not special."

Bryn tries to give the boy a reassuring smile as she swiftly stands up. Just as she's brushing some dirt off her knees, Qui-gon strides back into the shop.

"We're leaving." He says hurriedly.

Bryn nods and waves goodbye to Anakin, but she doesn't make eye contact.

Padme pauses before following the Jedi out the door. "I'm glad I met you, ah."

"Anakin," The boy reminds her.

Padme smiles. "Anakin."

"Anakin Skywalker." He clarifies.

"Padme Naberrie." The young girl replies before following her guard out of the shop.

The group quickly ducks into a quiet alleyway away from the market center.

"Best touch base with Obi-wan." Qui-gon instructs Bryn as he scans the perimeter.

Bryn nods and pulls out her commlink. Obi-wan picks up after it beeps a couple times.

"Bryn? Is everything okay?" He asks hurriedly.

"Yes, we're fine, but we've run into a bit of a complication." She replies handing the commlink to Qui-gon.

"Obi-wan," He says, "I need you to check what there is on the ship that may be of value, we've found the parts we need, but the shop owner won't take Republic credits, I doubt anyone else will either."

Obi-wan hesitates for a second. "There's some supply crates, the Queen's wardrobe perhaps, but not enough for you to barter with. Nothing near enough to equate a hyperdrive generator.

"All right, another solution will present itself. I'll have Padawan Caro check back with you later." Qui-gon says, handing the commlink back to the padawan at his side.

"Stay safe, Obi-wan."

"You too."

As the group moves back out towards the market streets, Bryn pulls Qui-gon back a few paces.

"Master," she starts in a low voice, "that boy in the shop."

Qui-gon nods, "Yes, I know. A boy that young, a slave. It's an ugly truth about places like this."

Bryn shakes her head. "No Master, I sensed there was something special about him. I think he's what we've all been feeling. So I had him try to reach out to the Force."

The Jedi master raised an eyebrow. "And? Did he feel anything?"

"He didn't." Bryn begins, "But I did. Master, this boy is extremely strong in the Force. He needs guidance, I think we should take him to the temple."

Qui-gon stops walking for a moment and turns towards Bryn. "When you say 'extremely strong' you don't mean-"

She shrugs, "The Chosen One? Maybe, I don't know, but something is telling me this boy isn't something we should overlook."

"I sensed something too, but he's too old, Bryn." Qui-gon says.

Bryn's jaw tenses. "That's your answer, Master? This boy is so strong in the Force and he doesn't even know it. He needs to be trained, he could become dangerous otherwise. The Jedi take children from their families all the time, at least with this boy, we'd be freeing him."

Qui-gon thinks for a moment before beginning to walk again.

"Master? I'm sorry, I was out of turn. If he's too old, he's too old." Bryn says, her eyes trailing on the ground.

"Not me." Qui-gon finally says.

Bryn glances up at him. "What?"

"Not me." He repeats. "You. If you think that he should be brought to the temple, then I will help you do so. But you're the one who found him. That means you'll have to convince Master Yoda on the boy, then and only then, will he become your youngling."

Bryn looks at her old Master in surprise. "You really think I'm ready for that?"

Qui-gon smiles at her. "You have always been strong with the Force, you said it yourself that Master Plo is preparing you to take the trials. It seems that the Force wants you to begin teaching another. We'll try to find him again and start with a midichlorian count."

[hurryupmerlin]

📖?

[Hey, here's a fun new game. Put "📓" or some other version of a book emoji into my inbox and I'll explain the plot of a fanfiction that I haven't written but daydream about.]

When I tagged this game with "there's just smut in my head" that's exactly what I meant. And by smut I mean MY FAVE HAS TO SUFFERRR

TW: rape

___

Tech looks like a virgin, but everyone knows he's a slut. He's done it with half of Tipoca City already, just because he can. He's with Echo now (and holy shit, he's in love), so things slowed down drastically, but he's still allowed to do whatever he wants.

Also, he gets most of his technology from the Republic – later Empire –, but some fancy stuff he has to pay for himself. So he usually earns some pocket money by getting the clones off whenever. It's no big deal and everyone's cool with it, even Echo.

One early evening, he's alone in the Batch's quarter when one of his clone brothers comes in. Things escalate quickly.

Tech's not up for it. But he's also not as physically strong as other clones, so he finds himself pinned to the floor and taken.

"What's the big deal? You had this cock a thousand times."

"That's not the same! Not yours!"

Struggling, Tech somehow manages to get hold of his comlink and sends part of the conversion to the Batch. It's basically just him occasionally whimpering in pain while rationally explaining that please, he doesn't want it, he's not prepared and it hurts. And that this right here is called rape.

And oh boy, that last word gets his squad moving like hyperdrive. Echo's been at the cafeteria separately, so he's the first to reach the quarter. He appears at the door pissed af, with his blaster drawn, unlocked and sure as hell not on stun.

When the rest of the Batch arrive, he's already pulled the guy off Tech and then things escalate a little more and by the end of it, everyone in the room agrees that this has been nothing but a tragic weapon malfunction.

After that day, the veteran ARC trooper has even more wary eyes on him than before when he walks through the hallways.

All Echo wants is to be there for Tech, but he's also super insecure about what's still okay and what might not.

He worries too much.

It takes Tech a whopping three days to recover from the incident and return to his horny self.

___

This fic exists in different variations. In one, Echo casually walks in, sees them at it and jokes "are you done fucking my boyfriend yet?" Tech is being threatened to keep it shut and has to find a way to communicate his situation to Echo, so it takes a while for him to realise what's happening. But then he goes absolute apeshit :)

[quarantineddreamer]

Something I failed to appreciate on my first watch of Andor was just how much Karn and his corps just never stood a fucking chance and flounder every single step of the way in ‘Reckoning’. I feel like it’s obvious to see in the finale of course, but dang I mean I just didn’t catch a lot of it in this particular episode first time round.

Karn gives the most awkward speech before the corps land. You can tell he and Mosk really think they’ve got Cassian, in their minds there is just no way that he could possibly have any idea. They’re going to catch him by surprise with all their men and easy as that they walk away. (But of course it’s the absolute opposite of what they are expecting, Cassian knows and is like two steps ahead of them minimum).

Then they land on Ferrix and the entire time we watch Mosk screaming into his comlink like a fool “east team east team where are you?” Over and over. Meanwhile, the people of Ferrix are seamlessly communicating, signaling using scraps of metal (which Mosk of course doesn’t even give a second thought to, calls it an “intimidation” tactic.)

It’s just pure poetry and I love it.

[clone-medic-patch]

Patch Fic Snippet!

This is a snippet from my fic, “A Series of Hard Knocks” featuring my OC Patch.

Warnings for panic attacks, PTSD and mild self-injurious behavior.

For context: Patch was stationed with the 501st on a temp basis after Umbara, but still has a lot of trauma from the Malevolence attack, which is the main focus of this fic snippet. Also, Dogma was semi-pardoned for killing Krell in this fic, and has been doing community service in medbay since then.

Enjoy!

Patch always heard klaxons in his dreams. Wailing sirens, flashing lights, and shuddering ships were familiar to his subconscious mind. Maybe that’s why he didn’t wake up to the Resolute’s evacuation drill until Tup was shaking his shoulder, shouting, “Come on, Patch. We’ve gotta go!” 

Reality crashed into Patch like a tidal wave, threatening to pull him under. Before his mind could process his surroundings, he was already standing, following the other troopers as they exited the barracks. Brain jolting in horror, his breath caught in his throat, and he could feel himself tremble with every blaring siren.

The flashing lights in the hallway were what brought him to a stuttering halt. Letting out a choked whimper, he leaned against a wall. His knees gave out underneath him, breaths coming in quick and shallow. Patch squeezed his eyes shut, gripping his empty forearms hard enough to hurt, entire body shaking. 

Part of him knew he needed to get moving, that he couldn’t get left behind, but his armor was back in the barracks, along with every one of his favorite coping strategies, and his shaking limbs refused to support his weight. Hyperventilating, he could practically hear the escape pod groaning as the life-support systems broke down.

Meanwhile, Dogma was passing through the hallway near the barracks. It was his first week back in his own bunk, and it still felt wrong to be safely nestled above Tup, listening to the quiet snores of his brothers, so he’d been wandering the halls waiting for sleep to come when the drill started. Rounding the corner, he nearly tripped over Patch before he caught himself.

“What the– Patch?”

Shaking his head frantically, Patch sat crumpled on the hallway floor, lost in a flashback and muttering to himself, “No no no no no–!” 

Dogma gave the medic a look of confusion, closely followed by a jolt of alarm, remembering his quiet admissions during group sessions about destroyed Venators and dying escape pods. Even now, he could see the older trooper hyperventilating, nails digging into his forearms hard enough to draw blood.

“H-Hey, don’t do that.” He exclaimed, trying to get Patch to stop gripping his arms so tightly, but Patch didn’t even acknowledge his existence, still shuddering in panic.

Dogma shook his head, trying to think of a new approach. At this rate, Patch’s tight grip was definitely going to leave a mark. “Stop that– uh, here!” 

With a grunt of realization, he crouched next to the medic, unclipping his own bracers before starting to attach them to Patch’s arms to give him at least a little bit of protection. Thankfully, this seemed to jolt Patch back to reality, just a little, and he loosened his grip just long enough for Dogma to finish. 

For a moment, this seemed to help, and Patch’s breathing slowed a little bit as he ran a hand along the armor pieces. But then, to Dogma’s alarm, his breath hitched and a few tears started to fall.

“Hey, d-don’t cry!” Dogma’s hands froze as he watched, but this only made him cry harder, just barely audible over the warning klaxons. Dogma’s breath caught in his throat; he was incredibly out of his depth. 

Not knowing what else to do, he grabbed his comlink from his belt and tried to comm Tup. Tup would know what to do. He listened to it beep a few times, but the call refused to connect. ‘He must’ve left his comm in the barracks,’ Dogma thought with dismay. 

But Patch was still shaking, eyes filled with unshed tears, so he tried again, this time calling Hardcase. Hopefully medbay hadn’t been dragged into the evacuation drill. When the comlink chirped, Dogma gave an audible sigh of relief.

“What is it, Dogma? It’s 0200.” Hardcase groaned, still sounding half-asleep.

“Patch is crying.” Dogma’s voice was tense with nerves as he watched the medic. 

“What?! What happened?”

“I don’t know! Probably something to do with the evac drill. How— W-What do I do?”

“He’s crying right now? Like, in front of you?” Hardcase was sounding increasingly concerned, and not nearly awake enough for this. 

“That’s what I’ve been saying!” 

“Then give him a hug or something! Don’t just stand there watching him!” 

“A hug?”

He could practically hear Hardcase’s facepalm. “Yes, with your arms! Hang the kriff up and comfort him!”

Dogma’s eyes widened in trepidation. “Uh, I’ll try, but–”

“And get someone to turn the kriffing alarms off!” He heard Hardcase say something else, presumably to a medic in medbay, and then the comm call cut off, leaving him alone again. 

In the short time it had taken to call Hardcase, it looked like Patch had calmed down a little more, but his hands still shook visibly as he sat curled up around his knees, letting out a quiet hiccup every now and then. Dogma took a deep breath, bracing himself before wrapping a stiff arm around Patch’s shoulders.

Patch flinched slightly before leaning into the touch, so Dogma offered him a hand, which he gripped tightly. Hardcase must’ve called someone, because the lights stopped flashing and the alarms petered off, and finally Patch could breathe again. 

The medic opened his eyes, finally starting to register his surroundings. With an exhale of relief, he slumped into Dogma’s side. He looked up, blinking in surprise as he began to realize what happened.

“...H-Hey kid. Sorry about that.” His voice was hoarse, and his ears burned with embarrassment as he gave Dogma a sheepish look. He took a few grounding breaths, trying to look a bit less like he was falling apart at the seams. 

“It’s okay… a-are you alright?” Dogma asked, stiffening slightly.

Patch quirked his head to one side, mentally scanning himself before answering honestly. “No, but I will be… c-can we head back to the barracks? I’d like to grab the rest of my armor before Kix or Coric drags me off to medical.” He could already feel his forearms burning, but he made a noise of surprise when he noticed that the bracers on his arms weren’t his own. 

Dogma nodded, fumbling for a moment before standing up, giving Patch a hand. “Sure, uh– can you stand?”

Giving a grunt of affirmation, Patch took Dogma’s hand gratefully. He sniffled, trying to avoid getting any more tears and snot on Dogma’s loaned armor, if he could help it. “Yeah, ‘m good.”

With slow steps, the duo made it back to the barracks. Dogma was quick to help Patch locate his armor, awkwardly offering him a tissue when he sniffled for the 3rd time. “Ugh, thanks vod’ika.” 

Dogma nodded, looking like he wanted to say something. “What is it, kid?” Patch asked, still feeling a little guilty at putting him in that situation. Even now, he was reliant on Dogma helping him put his armor back on. He let out a sigh of relief when he could breathe again, safe in its familiar weight.

Biting his lip in frustration, Dogma looked away, breath trembling. “I-I can’t – Is there… I’m not good at this! How do I help you?” 

Patch blinked in surprise before letting out a huff of amusement. “You already have, vod’ika. You stayed, you found what worked, and you called someone who removed the triggers. Thanks for these, by the way.” He handed back the loaned armor bracers before reaching and grabbing his weighted blanket from his bunk to wrap around his shoulders.

“Oh…” Dogma blinked, realizing he had indeed done those things. He watched as Patch reached into his utility belt to grab a metal tin, helping him open it when his shaking hands gave him trouble.

Giving him a nod of thanks, Patch grabbed a mint before offering one to Dogma, which he hesitantly accepted. “Sorry for putting you in that situation, Dogma, but you did good.” 

Dogma shook his head in refusal. “Y-You don’t need to apologize. I just– I’m not good at this…” He repeated himself, looking down at his hands. This whole medic assistant thing was pretty daunting, especially for an early-graduated trooper like himself. If it had been the start of the war, there’s a good chance he would still be on Kamino.

“Heh, nobody is, at first. The first time I helped someone with a blaster wound, I thought I was going to throw up.” Patch cracked a grin, relieved when Dogma returned it. 

“Come ‘ere, kid.” He lifted one arm, raising the corner of his weighted blanket for Dogma to join him if he wanted. Dogma hesitated for a second before scooting closer to the medic, mirroring their earlier positions, if a bit less awkwardly. 

A few minutes later, Coric came into the barracks with a couple bacta patches and a look of concern, followed by a wave of troopers more than ready to get back to their bunks. The next day, Captain Rex came by and set up a system for Patch to be alerted before drills, to give him time to put on his armor and use his coping strategies beforehand. They briefly discussed having a designated evacuation partner, in the case of an actual emergency, but settled on simply alerting the other medics (and his closest bunkmates) to be ready to assist Patch in the case of an evacuation. 

Kix gave him another once-over after firstmeal, changing his bacta patches with an unnecessary level of concern before returning the favor and taking him off of duty for the next 24 hours. He still didn’t take off his armor, probably wouldn’t for the next couple days. But as he sat in his bunk, curled up under his weighted blanket playing sabaac with Fives, Tup, Dogma, and Jesse, he couldn’t say he regretted it. It was nice to be the patient, the one being taken care of, for once.

Full Fic:

[hypnosiacon-archived]

So uh, its 3am and im not feeling very good <:( so maybe if i talk to ryu for a bit it may distract me <:)

So! What do ryu think yan!mailman would look like in the transformers universe!? :0!! What planet(?) would he be from? (Sorry if i say something wrong <:( dont know a lot about tf)

@gender-mailman

OH THAT IS A GOOD QUESTION

I think he might be a simple Cybertonian, with an airborne altmode, because those were mostly used as a couriers and similar jobs, so mailmech totally is a jet. He might be a UAV or a small model of helicopter I think, not a huge airplane. He doesn't need to have a big altmode, mails are not THAT heavy especially for cybertonians. And he totally wasn't constructed cold, because those were made mostly for a war (Don't remember how they called on English though)

Though I literally doubted that simple mails were present for cybertronians, as datapads and internal comlinks etc are very present, but also lol, these things became more prominent because of scripting and Increased need in an internal communication between soldiers and / or bases, so messenger is still a great job.

[odekiisu]

Basic Guide to Clone Trooper Armour

I don’t know about you guys, but I have a hard time keeping the terms for various parts of clone armour straight in my mind. So, I decided to make this Guide To Armour, to make my life easier for those times I’m drawing or writing stuff and need to reference what this, that or the other piece is called, how it’s put on or taken off. (I’ve also tried to include/come up with some casual or slang terms for some parts because you cannot seriously expect these guys to use the Right Proper Terminology for everything all of the time.)

This is based on the Clone Wars cartoons, because that’s what I know best. Also, this is just the standard armour of regular troopers; if y’all want something about the possible additions/variations that you could have then lmk and I’ll see what I can put together I guess?

Note: a lot of this terminology is taken from medieval knights’ armour. Many terms are originally French; alternative names provided where possible. I did do a bit of research on medieval plate armour, which is the closest thing I can think of to clone armour, but I am by no means an expert so if you have any input or corrections feel free to @ me. Likewise, if you’ve cosplayed as a clone trooper or stormtrooper, I’d very much like to hear about your experience wearing this stuff, how it moves and how it might be similar or different to the “real thing” so to speak.

Figure 1: Clone trooper armour, front view. Kix got chosen for this because he’s a vain little bastard and loves to be painted. (ETA: this diagram now comes with a second, funnier version.)

(long post under cut)

Figure 2: Back view of armour.

According to Wookieepedia: The armour is produced on Kamino and has UV spectrum markings visible to Kaminoans. It is made of plastoid-alloy composite, and the plates are attached to the bodysuit via magnatomic gription panels. In general, Phase II armour is lighter, stronger and more ergonomic than Phase I, which has been described as heavy and uncomfortable (Wookieepedia also says that it weighs ‘just under forty kilograms’ which sounds like way too much but eh, I’ll roll with it.)

Body glove/bodysuit – the stuff worn under the armour. Provides thermoregulation, some level of protection from things like blasterfire, vacuum, etc. AKA: blacks.

Helmet – The Bucket. Stuffed full of various tech: tracking device, display screen, comlink… Phase I helmets also have life support capabilities, while Phase II helmets do not, requiring an external oxygen supply*. Helmet crest contains comlink antenna. AKA: bucket, I think Rex once called them sun-bonnets, etc… this is the piece likely to have the most slang terms associated with it. Go wild.

* this is according to Wookieepedia; I’m a bit sceptical but I haven’t yet seen the episode it refers to. I headcanon that Phase II is capable of limited life support for emergency situations, but extended missions require external respirators.

Cuirass – there is some conflicting information on whether this refers to just the front chest armour or both front and back. If both, it consists of breastplate and backplate, joined at the sides and shoulders. Shoulder connections appear to be different for Phase I and Phase II: Phase I has a separate piece covering the shoulder seam, implying that it can be opened, whereas Phase II looks like it has an integrated flexible band; it may or may not be possible to disconnect. Either way, the front and back pieces must be able to separate in order to get the whole thing on.

Plackart – belly piece, wraps around the back to protect kidneys as well. Probably flexible to some extent, has been seen to slide down under belt, as demonstrated by Jesse in Figure 3. Might also have to have at least one open-able seam in it in order for troopers to get into it efficiently.

Figure 3: I have no idea how the lower edge of this isn’t stabbing him in the crotch, but *shrug*.

Spaulder/shoulder bell – also known as pauldrons irl, but that term refers to a different item this context (the pauldrons that commanders, captains and ARC troopers wear), so I feel like it might be better to differentiate between them with different terms to avoid confusion. That’s just my opinion though, you feel free to do as you wish.

Rerebrace – bicep plate. Phase I has cutouts in the back to fit pointy elbows (see below); Phase II does not.

Couter – elbow plate. Pointy elbows in Phase I, unpointy elbows in Phase II, as shown on Figure 4. In Phase I appear to be attached to vambraces in the animated version, Phase II is more mobile. I admit, I’m not a huge fan of this word, I kinda prefer elbow plates.

Figure 4: Phase I and II elbows. Am I getting way too into this that it’s gotten to the point of studying clone elbows? *shrug* who knows.

Vambrace – forearm armour. Has wrist-mounted comlink (see below).

Gauntlet plate – covers back of hand. The 212th absolutely calls these “droid-punchers”, no you cannot convince me otherwise. I think I’ve seen fanon that some troopers sharpen the front edge of this plate to do more damage when punching. Decide for yourself if plastoid alloy would do more damage to the metal of a droid’s chassis if sharpened or unsharpened (and therefore sturdier).

Codpiece/crotch plate – covers the front hip and crotch area. Possible slang term, courtesy of @mockingjay34​: cockblock

Skidplate – covers butt and back hip. A lot of troopers probably just call this piece their shebs, and once again you cannot convince me otherwise. Note that in the clone wars cartoon, Phase I armour is triangular in the back and has a sort of erm… diaper shape, in that the codpiece and skidplate are connected in the crotch (I cannot imagine that being comfortable in any situation, but then again, I have Thicc™ Thighs. Do clones have thigh gaps? Also, I would not want to get pinched by the armour joint between crotch and thigh plates).

Figure 5: Sniper Butts! (Featuring Echo and Fives in quite possibly the only comfortable position in this armour.)

In Phase II the crotch and butt pieces are separated, which sounds a lot more sensible, as well as having better butt coverage – think cheeky panties vs full briefs.

Figure 6: Hardcase kindly demonstrating the new crotch plate alongside some significant gaps in his armour… please get yourself some bigger shoulder bells my dude!

I’d imagine that, given the amount of time these guys spend fully armoured, there should be some way of conveniently opening some of this up or removing individual plates for practical reasons (and if any particular trooper wanted to use this feature for… other things, well, that’s their own business).

Cuisse/Thigh plate – covers thighs. Phase I and II have different shapes in the back to account for skidplate shape, with Phase II having significantly less coverage in the upper thigh/butt area, but I guess better range of motion.

Figure 7: Troopers Hardcase and Dogma demonstrating the Butt Cutouts, or Buttouts.

Poleyn/knee plate/knee pad – important for maintaining kneecap integrity. Like elbow plates, appears to be integrated into greaves in Phase I, but moving freely in Phase II.

Greaves – cover shins, nothing fancy.

Boots – boots. Do not appear to be armoured, are soft enough to bend your toes for walking/kneeling/whatever you need bendy toes for.

Belt pouches/boxes/compartments – A place to keep your stuff when out & about. I’m assuming this is a Pocket Substitute. Clones deserve pockets too!

Comlink – Generally four large square buttons and one smaller one (live action has more buttons). They also have comlinks in their helmets. Wookieepedia mentioned that they used wrist comms in the show so that the audience could clearly see when characters were talking to each other. Possibly used for long-range communication, whereas the ones in the buckets could be for shorter range?

Life support/those box things on their back – I have no idea what they’re actually called but these also have different designs for Phase I and II. On stormtroopers they contain a power pack and a small oxygen supply, and I guess it’s reasonable to assume that they have the same life support function for clone troopers. Also read somewhere that they have comlink scanner for long-range communication?

Thermal detonator – why would they all have bombs on their back? Seems unsafe. Also I don’t think I’ve ever seen one used? Idk. These things confuse me.

[wanderinginksplot]

Echo (TBB-era) + fem!medic!reader

This one goes out to a user on Ao3, who requested 'something Echo'.

Word Count: 5,100

Warnings: mentions of injury, medical treatment (including an injection), mentions of commando training, the looming shadow of the Empire, references to past trauma, flirty Gregor.

You scrubbed determinedly at a patch of dirt caught in the crease where the floor met the wall. It had been a long-time irritation and you were dedicated to finally cleaning it away, but the dirt was even more stubborn.

Your clinic on Ord Mantell was small, embedded in the basement of an old building, and practically hidden by virtue of those things. But you kept it as clean as possible and you did a brisk business.

Even more so, now that the Empire had made it drastically more difficult to get medical treatment.

Oh, they claimed to do the opposite, that they were making medical care more accessible. That was true to a certain extent, but only if you were a citizen of the Empire. And since registration for citizenship required a full background check, most beings with a shady past had skipped the process rather than risk being arrested.

Most of your patients were criminals. You weren't stupid enough to believe otherwise, but you had taken oaths to treat anyone in need of medical attention.

So that's what you did.

As long as they didn't threaten or attempt to harm you, you kept the details to yourself. The Empire could bring charges against you if and when they found out. Until then, you treated criminals and lowlifes, gaining quite a few… colorful friends in the process.

One of those friends had called you a little while earlier. Cid, the Trandoshan owner of a local bar, wasn't one of your more frequent patients, but she had directed quite a bit of business your way over the time your clinic had existed.

"I need your help with something," Cid had told you over the encrypted comm channel you used to communicate with patients.

You sighed. "Last time you said that, I ended up treating multiple blaster wounds on a pirate who wouldn't stop bragging about how well things had gone."

"Oh, Ohnaka." Cid had chuckled. "He's just like that. Speaks highly of you, though. You ever decide you wanna date a Weequay, I know he'd jump at the chance."

"No," you had said quickly, then winced at the way that had sounded. "I mean, no thank you."

"Ya sure? The skin is an adjustment, but he makes up for it in other ways…"

You had been reasonably sure she was messing with you, but thought it was best to change the subject anyway. “Did you need something, Cid?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a commando here. He’s injured.”

“What kind of injury?”

“Blaster wound,” Cid said dismissively, as if the injury was so common that it didn’t really mean much. Sadly, she wasn’t entirely wrong about the frequency that you saw blaster wounds, but they were always serious. “Says he got it a couple of days ago.”

“A few days?” you echoed, horrified. That was certainly unique, and a terrible idea besides. “Why hasn’t he gotten treatment before now?”

“Long story,” Cid told you, raising her voice slightly to be heard over the increased chatter in the background. “They’ll tell you all about it when they get to you, but they say it's more like a bad bruise.”

Before you could say anything else, the volume changed once more, sounding for all the galaxy as if Cid had pulled the comlink away from her mouth: “I told ya a dozen times, she’s trustworthy! I send people to her all the time!”

“Statistically, we’re more likely to be caught than any of the others you’ve sent, then,” a voice started in the background.

“Shut it, Goggles,” Cid had ordered as you frowned at the comlink. What had the Trandoshan gotten herself into this time? “Anyway, they’ll be there in about an hour. Two of ‘em. Human males.”

“Technically, we’re clones,” someone said.

Cid had sighed dramatically. “You’re clones of a human, aren’t ya? Hon, if ya can’t fix ‘em up, that’s fine. Just don’t send ‘em back here and I’ll owe you two favors.”

“I’ll expect them in an hour,” you said, choosing to ignore the rest of Cid’s offer. “Give them my address and tell them the password is meiloorun.”

“Done.”

It had been a slow day in the clinic, which you both appreciated and despised. It let you restock and organize things, which was always a welcome opportunity. However, any period of calm was immediately followed by an equal span of time in which everything went wrong. You weren’t looking forward to the second part of that.

At an hour and fifteen minutes after Cid’s call, there was a short knock on the door. You approached it with caution, glancing up at the security camera you had aimed at the doorstep.

There were indeed two men there. They looked to be a similar height and build, but one was helmetless and wearing white armor while the other was entirely covered with armor painted a utilitarian dark gray.

“What do you want?” you called through the door.

“We, uh… we-”

The one in white glanced sharply at the other, making an impatient gesture. “Did you bring me to the wrong place?”

“This is the address Cid gave me,” the dark-armored man said, tone defensive.

You laughed to yourself. You could be fairly sure these were the men Cid had sent, but they were hopelessly confused. You would have to explain yourself more clearly. “Did Cid send you with a password?”

“Oh,” the man in dark armor said, relaxing slightly. “Meiloorun.”

In an instant, you had pressed the button that opened the door, beckoning the two men inside as soon as you could see them. They blinked at you slowly, but you had no time to waste. The secrecy around your clinic was the only thing keeping your patients safe, and you couldn’t jeopardize it.

You stepped forward, telegraphing your movements but still grabbing each man by the arm to pull them inside. The one in white armor flinched back slightly at the touch and you adjusted your hold on him. The other man didn’t react at all, and when you glanced down, you found a scomp link under your hand.

The moment you could release them, you did, moving to close the door behind you. When the camera’s feed showed no suspicious activity, your shoulders eased away from your ears. You straightened your coat as you turned to greet your new patient and his escort.

As you gave your name, you noted that both men were standing stiff and uncomfortable in the main room of your practice.

“I’m a trained and fully licensed physician,” you assured the men, hoping to put them at ease. “I don’t work for the Empire, and I’ve treated patients with a much more sensitive background than a few clone troopers. You have nothing to fear from me.”

“Clone trooper?” the white armored man repeated with a grin. “I’m a clone commando, deserter from the Empire’s service. I’m well on my way to being infamous.”

“You’re already infamous,” you assured him as his eyes widened in pleased shock. “Anyone who leaves a blaster wound untreated for days is definitely setting records.”

“Well, it's more like a bruise than an actual wound,” he explained sheepishly. “I’ve been having some trouble and wanted to get checked out. Sneezed this morning and thought I was gonna pass out. My armor took the worst of the shot, though.”

You nodded encouragingly. “That's good, but I'll need you to take the armor off now."

The other man moved to help him undo the intricate fastenings and you watched with interest. As they finished up, you asked, "Do you have a name, infamous blaster wound?”

The man grinned, ruffling his hair with his good hand. “Gregor, ma’am. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too, Gregor,” you told him with a grin. Gregor’s energy and positivity were contagious, and you found yourself in a better mood than you had been before. A good percentage of that was because he didn't show any signs of disorientation, but you were willing to give Gregor some credit as well. “And you?”

You turned to the man in gray. He was still wearing his full armor and helmet, but you did your best to meet his eyes through the tinted visor as you smiled.

“Echo.”

“Nice to meet you, Echo,” you greeted. “It’s going to be a little while until I can get Gregor fully treated. You may want to take off your helmet, get at least a little comfortable.”

Echo noticeably hesitated, but reached up to remove his helmet as you had suggested.

Practicing medicine had given you an incredible sabacc face, and you put it to good use as you caught your first glimpse of Echo’s face. He was a clone trooper, based on the same genetic template as Gregor, but he looked dramatically different. His features were pale and sunken, his cheekbones so sharp that the jut of them against his skin looked painful.

More importantly - or, perhaps, in explanation of the rest - there were metal attachments dotting his skin. One long cybernetic implant stretched behind the back of his head to cover both ears… or serve as a replacement for them. There was little way to be sure other than asking.

And somehow, between the cybernetics and the scomp on his right arm, you were disinclined to pry into Echo’s past.

“Do you have any injuries, Echo?” you asked, fighting back a wince at the idea that he could take it the wrong way.

Echo grinned, but didn't say anything more than, "I'm fine, thank you."

"But I'm not," Gregor reminded you. He gestured at his side, pouting openly. "It hurts."

"Better or worse than it has over the past week?" you asked.

He gave a lilting laugh at that. "You're sharp. Now I get how you survive treating all of these criminals."

"For the most part, these criminals are excellent patients,” you told him, smiling to take the sting out of the next part. “Present company excluded, of course.”

Echo chuckled at that, the sound curling around his back as he studied the equipment you had sitting ready. Despite his apparent amusement, you could see the current of tension running through his shoulders as he eyed the collection, consisting of a medscanner and assorted tools you had thought may be necessary.

Gregor found you much less entertaining, using the arm on his uninjured side to clutch dramatically at his heart. “Harsh, mesh'la. Very harsh."

"If you think that was harsh, I have bad news about what you might think of the treatment if you're injured worse than you thought," you warned. "After a few days left untreated, a blaster wound isn't going to be pretty."

"You aren't even gonna ask what mesh'la means?" Gregor asked, scandalized. "Civvies always ask what it means!"

"No, but I am going to ask you something more incendiary." You took a deep breath, making determined eye contact with the commando. "Gregor, I need you to take off your shirt."

Gregor's eyes lit up, a grin spreading slow and wicked over his face. "Thought you'd never ask, sweetheart. Wanna put on some music?"

You sighed and Echo turned around to admonish his friend. "Just let her do her job, Gregor."

"I'm not stopping her!" Gregor denied. He stopped halfway through lifting his hands in a show of innocence to wince and made a protective move toward his injured ribs.

Your physician's instincts kicked in immediately, shutting down your natural sarcastic response to an overly flirty male. Settling a hand on Gregor's shoulder, you murmured, "Easy. Slow down. Can you take off your undershirt or do you need help? I can just cut it off, but I have no replacement."

"I'm fine," Gregor insisted, his face tight with pain. "Just give me a second, darlin', and I'll move any way you like."

“I’m going to give you something for the pain before we even try it,” you told Gregor, but your eyes were locked with Echo’s. While Gregor’s light-heartedness was entertaining, it also meant that he seemed to treat most things as a joke. Echo’s more serious nature made him steadier and you were relying on him to help you treat his friend.

“What are you going to give him?” Echo asked.

“I want to give him some E-bacta,” you explained. “I don’t have enough to give him a full injection, but even a bit will speed healing and help dull the pain.”

And that was true. E-bacta had been experimental, expensive, and rare with the Republic in charge - and was even more so under the Empire. You had managed to get your hands on some, but you had gone through it faster than anticipated. As it turned out, outlaws and criminals didn’t always have the time or ability to let traditional medicine run its course. It was far easier to give them a quick injection and let them keep running. But patients like Gregor made you wish you had kept more in reserve.

In a moment, you had prepared the E-bacta and administered the shot. You noted that Echo kept his gaze far from your actions, but didn’t ask any questions. You timed things on your wrist chronometer, watching for when the first two minutes were up. “Gregor, we’re going to take your shirt off now.”

Echo was there a moment later, resting his hand on Gregor's back. "I can help him."

"You can try," you agreed with a nod. "But if it starts looking like we're causing more strain on the injury, I'll have to cut off the shirt."

Echo eased his hand and scomp under the hem of Gregor's black shirt. The loose weave of the material allowed the shirt some give, but the tightness of it worked against Echo and Gregor's efforts.

Just as they were lifting the undershirt over Gregor's head, it caught on his elbow, wrenching his arm sharply upward.

Gregor gasped hoarsely but bit his lip a moment later, stifling the pained sound. You didn't think it was out of fear of your reaction, either. What kind of training were Republic commandos subjected to that would make hiding a noise of pain instinctive?

"Okay, stop," you ordered, ready to cut off the undershirt and be done with it. Even as you said it, though, the shirt finally slid off over Gregor's head.

Echo folded the thin undershirt carefully, placing it on the table beside Gregor, but the commando looked like he couldn't have cared less about the kindness. His hand was hovering over a nasty bruise on his side.

The skin over Gregor's ribs was mottled, the skin darkened in an unpleasant mixture of purple, red, brown, and yellow. The colors were vivid against his tanned skin and you winced. What's more, the exuberant commando was clearly in pain, sitting hunched over to keep the injury protected. He was clearly trying to minimize the pain by keeping his ribs contracted close together.

No matter how hard he was working to keep from broadcasting his pain, it was definitely there. He looked miserable, and the sympathy in your expression was legitimate, but you were undeniably happy.

There was no gaping wound in Gregor's side. There wasn't a single laceration on his bruised skin, and it even looked like his body had started trying to heal the injury. You would still need to scan him to make sure there were no broken ribs, but you were feeling more confident about this treatment.

"Okay, this part is going to be much less fun," you warned. "Gregor, we need to get you lying down so that I can get a clean scan of your ribs."

"Why can't you do that now?" Echo asked suspiciously.

You couldn't blame him. His brother was clearly in a lot of pain and you were asking him to move positions. Unfortunately, the explanation wasn't going to improve either man's outlook.

"See how he's hunched over right now? His ribs are contracted, positioned close together," you explained, gesturing toward the section you were talking about. You were careful not to touch him, but Gregor watched you warily. "My scanner is good, but it isn't that good. With his ribs contracted so tightly, it’s possible I would miss a broken or fractured rib.”

“How likely is that?” Echo asked.

“A fracture is definitely a possibility. A broken rib is far less so,” you mused. You didn’t want to gloss over the real danger of a serious injury, but you also didn’t want to be less than honest with Gregor and Echo. “I would probably be able to see a broken rib with the scanner, but I’ll check his ribs by hand after the E-bacta has fully taken effect.”

“Thank you,” Gregor said dryly.

"I'm sure it's just to cut down on the complaining," Echo joked before you could respond. Even if he was technically correct.

Rather than voice any of those thoughts aloud, you looked down at your chrono. It had been enough time for the bacta to be fully absorbed by Gregor's body. Now would be the best time to move him. "Gregor, we're going to help you lay down across the table now. Echo will take your head. I'll take your feet."

You nodded at Echo as you moved into position, but the trooper looked nervous. "What if he lashes out?"

"Wouldn't be the first time I've been kicked by a patient," you said with a shrug. It was true. Pain made people react in ways they wouldn't under different circumstances.

Echo was still watching you, skepticism as clear on his face as if he had spoken aloud. After a moment of consideration, you conceded that he may have a point. "Gregor? Can you hear me?"

Echo was now wearing an expression that suggested you might be insane, but you kept your gaze on Gregor's face. The commando's eyes were half-closed, and you watched as he visibly struggled to respond. E-bacta was powerful stuff. Useful as it was, you could see why it was so tightly controlled.

"Uhhh…mm?" Gregor eventually managed. You patted his leg, trying to ground him just enough so that he could hear what you were saying.

"I know you're feeling good right now and I'm glad. When we move you, it's probably going to start hurting. It might be slow and dull or it might be sudden and sharp. If you need to shout or swear, that's fine. Echo and I will take care of you." You glanced at Echo, who nodded. You patted Gregor's leg again as you finished, "Just try not to move or twist. We don't want to end up making your injury hurt worse."

"You should take his head," Echo said as you grabbed Gregor's legs by the ankles. "A kick from a commando is a serious thing."

"I'll duck," you reassured him lightly. "Ready? One, two, three…"

Despite his arguments, Echo supported Gregor's head as you slowly rotated him to the side and lowered him down to the surface of your exam table.

By the time his shoulder blades had touched the table, Gregor's face was tight with pain again. He hadn't made a sound - much less said anything - but he was clearly feeling the movements even through the E-bacta.

Unfortunately, he was still hunching to the side even while horizontal.

"Okay, great job so far," you congratulated. "Now all we have to do is straighten you out a little bit so I can get an accurate scan."

Gregor made a face at that. "You're pretty, Doc, but you're mean."

"Thank you," you told him. "Echo, I'll need to steal that spot from you."

"Okay, where do you want me?" he asked, stepping away from Gregor's side after talking a moment to squeeze the commando's hand.

"At his head," you instructed. "I'm going to have you hold his shoulders in place while I try to ease him into the right posture."

Echo braced, you worked at Gregor's torso, and you slowly got Gregor to straighten up. You tried to ignore the small pained sounds the commando made, along with the way Echo's hand shook. When his ribs were finally expanded, Gregor let out a breath that shuddered a bit, then he relaxed into the table.

"Fantastic!" you praised. "I'm going to grab the scanner. We're almost done."

When you stepped back to the table, Gregor's eyelids were drooping once more. "Dunno if I can stay awake, vod. I'm struggling."

"Is it normal for him to have trouble staying awake?" Echo asked, voice sharp with concern.

"Perfectly," you soothed. "It's one of the side effects of E-bacta.”

Echo seemed skeptical, but nodded and watched as you programmed the scanner with the proper settings and aimed it at Gregor’s torso. “Gregor, feel free to sleep if you can and want to. It could only help things. If I find anything important in my scan, I'll wake you up and we'll work out a treatment plan."

Gregor grinned at you. "Right away, doc."

He closed his eyes and his breathing immediately evened out. Surely he couldn’t have already fallen asleep… but he had. The scanner helpfully noted that fact under the ‘Patient Status’ listing, even as it worked through the process of scanning Gregor’s bones.

You glanced at Echo, shocked by Gregor’s sudden drop into slumber. Echo laughed at your reaction, the expression utterly changing his face.

Echo was a serious man. You had reflected on that a few times since the two men stepped into the clinic, but you had been so busy understanding Echo as a calm, reliable presence - countering Gregor’s wild energy - that you had failed to think of what he would be like when he did have fun.

Maybe a single smile didn’t mean that he was having fun, exactly, but you were shocked by the difference it made in his wan face. His eyes - that buff color that was so warm in Gregor’s face was almost shocking below Echo’s dark brows - glowed with the laughter they held. His white teeth glinted in the indirect light from the lamp that dangled above your exam table, and the low warmth of his chuckling made you smile automatically in reply. Echo’s joy, no matter how brief, gave you a glimpse into the carefree, light-hearted man he may once have been.

It wasn’t until the laughter had eased off that you realized you had been staring. Echo offered, “Gregor was trained as a commando. They learn to catch whatever sleep they can.”

“Huh,” you said eloquently. You had decided to prioritize keeping Echo smiling, so you said, “I never thought commando training would be so… practical.”

Echo’s happiness faded slightly, but his face still held traces of light that you treasured. “When you don’t know whether you’ll get the chance to sleep again before the next battle, you fall asleep quick and deep.”

You were shaken by that, by the idea that such a basic thing as sleep could become a commodity, something not guaranteed. Gregor was far from the only patient who struggled with a regular sleep pattern. Since so many of your patients were criminals and outlaws, on the run from various people and governments, they rarely had the luxury of regular sleep. At this point, you regarded the ability to lead a relaxed, sedentary life to be the price one paid for breaking the Empire’s laws.

But Gregor had been a commando, a highly trained member of the Grand Army of the Republic. He had broken no laws, done nothing wrong, but had still lived like he was running from the galaxy. How could a just government have treated their men like that?

And Echo - though he had told you in several subtle ways that he had not been a commando - showed the same signs of sleeplessness. Not that you wouldn’t have been able to guess that he was struggling with his health from a quick look at him, but there were signs that his current health habits had been in place from a very young age.

And now, you had been quiet for too long. Echo’s happiness had faded entirely from his face, replaced with a questioning look. Fortunately, you were saved from coming up with a real response when the scanner let out a soft beep.

You glanced down at the readout screen, nodding slowly. “Gregor has no broken or fractured ribs. It looks like the damage is limited to bruising. It’s extremely bad bruising, but it’ll heal fairly quickly, especially with the E-bacta. I’m going to give him some pain medicine here so he keeps sleeping. I’ll send him back to Cid’s with some pain meds after he wakes up. Don’t feel like you need to stay here.”

“He’s my brother,” Echo explained immediately. “I’ll stay here with him. That is, if you don’t mind?”

“I don’t mind at all,” you said quickly. “I have some things to do around here and I’d be glad for the company.”

And so, after you had administered some pain meds to Gregor, you and Echo fell into easy conversation as you worked on cleaning the clinic. He helped you finally conquer the corner dirt, using the end of his scomp wrapped in a rag despite your insistence that it was unnecessary.

As you were organizing the messy remnants of your medical cabinet, you noticed Echo carefully looking away from the detritus and finally gained the courage to ask about it. “I’ve noticed that you don’t like seeing the equipment. Any particular reason why?”

Echo shrugged carefully, gesturing to his exposed head. “I don’t really care for medics.”

You winced at that, though with the way the light gleamed from the scomp attached to his lower arm, you couldn’t pretend that you didn’t understand why. Still, you turned to check on Gregor. He was still as deeply asleep as you had guessed he would be, but it was a good enough excuse to hide the hurt on your face.

“I’m sorry, that was rude.” Echo’s apology made you shake your head.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” you assured him. “I can’t say I know what happened to you, but I know it can’t have been easy. Anyone would be uncomfortable around medics after as much treatment as you seem like you’ve gone through. I’m just impressed that you came along with Gregor to his treatment even with your discomfort.”

Speaking of discomfort, Echo looked incredibly awkward faced with your praise. To lighten the mood a bit, you laughed and asked, “Does he always flirt quite this much when he’s injured?”

“I have no idea,” Echo said confusedly. “I don’t really know him. I hope to - I mean, I think we could be friends someday. He’s one of my brothers. But I just met Gregor a few days ago.”

“A few..? Echo, that’s- you’re amazing,” you told him sincerely.

"What are you talking about?" Echo deflected sheepishly.

You shook your head. Echo was this nervous to be around medical stuff and he still went out of his way to go with a random stranger because he may need support during his treatment. “It's just the truth. I’m sorry you don’t like medics, but I’m glad to have met you.”

“Maybe I don’t dislike medics,” Echo qualified. “I mean, I’m a little nervous around medical stuff. But maybe some of the medics themselves aren’t as bad as I thought they would be.”

When you glanced up at his face, Echo’s gaze slid away from yours. “You think so?”

Echo cleared his throat. “More convinced by the moment.”

Gregor turned slightly on the table, giving a small, slurred groan. You and Echo cut off your conversation immediately, going to stand on either side of the commando.

“Gregor, do you feel okay?” you asked. Sometimes, patients could be a little groggy after that particular type of painkiller, especially since he hadn’t slept for very long. “Do you need anything?”

“G’mm ya… calm free,” Gregor said nonsensically.

Echo frowned, but you were quick to reassure him. “It can take some time to wake up from sleeping so deeply. If he’s still unintelligible in a few minutes, I’ll run another scan and make sure he’s okay.”

Gregor let out another grumble and you furrowed your eyebrows. It sounded remarkably like the last one had. “Gregor, how are you feeling?”

“Give him your comm frequency,” Gregor told you, his voice clear and distinct now. His eyes were still closed, but there was a grin starting to spread across his face.

You glanced at Echo, who was carefully looking anywhere but at you. You laughed slightly and Echo glared at your wall so darkly that you were surprised it didn’t leave a scorch mark. “You’re lucky you’re injured, vod, or I’d make you show off all of that fancy commando training.”

Gregor was grinning openly now. “C’mon, doc. I think you’re a little strange to not want any of this, but my brother deserves someone like you. Give him your comm frequency.”

“I already planned to,” you admitted quietly.

Echo’s eyes snapped to yours and Gregor’s grin softened to a smile. With Gregor pretending to be asleep again, Echo pulled you gently away from the examination table. “You don’t have to give me your frequency just because Gregor is running his mouth. It’s fine.”

“I meant it, Echo,” you told him quietly so that he wouldn’t think you were just humoring his brother. “I’ve really enjoyed this time with you. I’m sorry you’re uncomfortable, but I… That is, you don’t have to talk to me if you’re not okay with it. I don’t want to force you to push your boundaries, not when you’ve already expanded them so far.”

“I most certainly want to keep speaking with you,” Echo interjected before you could keep rambling. “Who else is going to help me remember that medics aren’t all bad?”

“It’s my duty to convince you that some of us are good,” you told him solemnly, fighting to keep a straight face while looking into his laughing eyes. “Call it a professional requirement as a physician.”

“Oh, so it would only be professional communication,” Echo teased, pressing the scomp to his chest in false offense. “I see how it is.”

“No, professional communication is when I tell the Aqualish with a nasty cut that he needs to rinse it with salt water to stimulate mucus production,” you countered, laughing aloud when Echo pulled a disgusted face. “This would be a pleasure.”

“Kiss her,” Gregor whispered loudly enough that you heard it across the room.

Echo rolled his eyes. “Shut up, vod.”

---

A/N - First time writing Gregor after TCW era, so I'm sorry if he turned out a little OOC. Thanks for reading!

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