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dustysalmon · 1 month

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Show Me Yours And I'll Show You Mine - Asajj Ventress x Crosshair (Part 1)

AN: Like many of you, the Harbinger episode gave me much to think about, and before I knew it, the Ventross ship was already sailing.

CW: None for this part, except for our two baddies having a bit of a rematch, and Ventress making Crosshair sweat a little bit. (They're just training, folks!... For now...)

Word count: 2.8k ⎮ Read on ao3 ⎮ Part 2

It is a beautiful day on Pabu, a sky so blue you can barely make out where it meets the see, not a single cloud on the horizon. A day like most days on the island, Ventress has come to notice, and the perfect opportunity for her to train and meditate on this quiet morning. Initially, the plan had been to find Omega, test her abilities and hop onto the next job. Business as usual. But a week had already gone by, and Ventress was in no hurry to set sail for another planet, and especially not to take another contract.

She picks a remote spot; her days of voluntary solitude as a Sith apprentice are far behind her, but she still enjoys the quiet. Perhaps now more than ever before. Calm is hard to come by in a life like hers, so she gives it her best effort to enjoy and cherish it whenever it comes her way. She sits with her legs crossed, eyes closed, her lightsaber placed carefully next to her. It’s a funny thing, how a mere object can bring such serenity and comfort to an individual. There is no qualms about the fact that she can survive well enough without it, but it’s part of her identity, a testament of her life’s work, of her successes, and her failures. They are indissociable.

Ventress shuts out the superfluous thoughts just like she knows how to, and turns her focus towards the life all around her. She aligns her breathing to the slow lulling of the waves against the shore, surrendering to its rhythm completely, until the rise and fall of her chest follows. Ever since her awareness of the Force, this has always been her favourite part, becoming the vessel of an entity much bigger than herself, and to let its essence flow within her. Letting go has always been difficult, after being controlled and manipulated from all ends, Ventress has had a compulsive need to control, both herself and others, more often than not. Here, it’s like standing on the edge of a precipice, unknown territory, until finally she reaches her goal. Complete serenity, a perfect sense of calm and control, over herself and the elements surrounding her. Balance. It has been a long journey, but she’s finally there.

This is not so bad, quiet meditation facing the sea on a day like this, she could get used to it. Ventress smiles dismissively at the idea. Have the years made her soft? Has spending time with Omega? She bats the thought away and recentralises her focus.

On occasion, a curious moon-yo comes to sniff around. They’re quite sociable creatures, although a little skittish. Ventress holds out her arm and the little green primate reaches with its hands to grab at it before climbing on her right shoulder. Friendlier creatures than the species found on Dathomir, that much is certain. She allows this little moment to gently pull out of her meditation. Time for some combat practice.

The yellow blade that gushes out of the lightsaber still feels foreign to Ventress, the confirmation of a new chapter in her life. She begins her usual routine, moving the weapon with fluid grace, form after form as the sun rises higher in the sky. Strike, parry, and repeat, all done with flawless precision and movements, the blade cutting through the air with a hum. Almost an hour passes before Ventress still herself, and takes a moment to really breathe, feeling the cool wind whisper through her short hair; and then resumes her training. For anyone watching, it looks like a dance, a very deadly dance, but not devoid of grace— some would even say beauty.

At least that is what Crosshair would say, as he quietly approaches Ventress’ space. He’s been watching her for a good two minutes now, and while he is no stranger to single combat, this is definitely not the clones’ preferred style. They were raised to operate as an army, units of thousands of clones, sent to the front lines to fall like pawns in a board game. There’s no beauty or grace in war, and right now, he feels the slightest amount of envy. What a privilege it is to look your opponent in the eye, to study them as they study you. No stray bullets, no booby traps or hidden mines. Only skill, observation, and sometimes respect, if you’re lucky.

Ventress is still facing away, to the sea. She knows he is here, standing a couple of feet away from her, and wonders if he knows, or simply doesn’t care that he is not as sneaky as he thinks he is. Let him have the benefit of the doubt, she smiles to herself. For several minutes, she gives no indication that she is aware of his presence, repeating the forms that have been drilled into her, first by Jedi Master Ky Narec, then by Count Dooku, with a little less patience and a decidedly more aggressive pedagogy, if you can call it that. She is a better fighter for it, there is no denying that, but the reminder of those years are still painful. Ventress has long accepted that this wound will never heal, and that she must move on, for her own sake.

Crosshair is still standing there watching, arms crossed, and clearly he doesn’t intend to make his presence known. Ventress quickly takes the hint. Those clones, utterly incapable of initiating anything without being told what to do. Ever the good little soldiers.

"Came here to learn a few things, clone?" She is well aware of how much they hate to be called that, and has no intention of letting him down easy; no particular reason. "Would you like me to slow down a little bit so you can keep up?"

"I don’t need to learn anything from you." Ventress throws him a quick questioning look before resuming her movements, which have become more and more complex since Crosshair arrived. All on purpose, of course.

"Seeing how our last encounter went, I’d beg to differ."

"You caught me on a bad day." He says with barely concealed bitterness. Also, he doesn’t believe a single word, but that’s an information he will keep to himself. Ventress scoffs.

"And I suppose your brothers too were having a bad day then?" She taunts between two sophisticated backflips. "Oh, let me guess, you are the best out of the three." The mockery in her tone stings this time, and it takes Crosshair a lot of effort not to show it. "Well that’s promising—"

"Has anybody ever told you that you talk too much?" He interrupts, chewing aggressively on his toothpick. She offers him the fakest of contemptuous smiles. "I’ve seen you fight now, I’ve seen your technique. You’re not infallible." Another summersault, and a fancy twirl in the air, for good measure. A reminder. See, this is what you’re up against, before Ventress finally puts all of her focus on the clone, walking slowly towards him. If he wants a challenge, he’s going to get one. Crosshair matches her step for step, a sense of boldness rising within him.

It’s a big mistake, and very petty on his part to even consider a rematch. She took on the three of them without so much as breaking a sweat just a couple days ago. He still has the marks to prove it, a couple of bruises here and there adorning his back and torso, and a nasty hit to his ego that’s not itching to go away. If he is being honest, she is the first opponent in a long time who has actually managed to physically hurt him in a straight fight. And as much as he loathes it, he can’t help but respect that. But clone’s pride being what it is…

"What’s the matter? Scared that I might get the better of you this time?" Thinking back, this is not even what he came here to do this morning. Truth be told, he doesn’t even know what brought him here. It’s like something pulled him in.

"Don’t make me laugh," Ventress scoffs, "you’ve read my file, clones are no match for me." A bit of a low blow, she realises as the words escape her mouth, but Crosshair doesn’t react to the cheap comment.

Crosshair tosses his toothpick aside. "I’m not like other clones."

They are facing each other now, just a few inches apart. And Ventress cannot deny it, there’s a fire in his light brown eyes, a glint that flirts right between boldness and insolence. Well, it doesn’t change the fact that he will lose, Ventress muses, but it’s something she likes to see in an opponent. The satisfaction of putting them back in their place is all the greater for it.

"No. No you’re not." She concedes. The yellow blade of her lightsaber disappears with a snap-hiss, and she clips it back to her belt. "Well then." They don’t need more than those two simple words to acknowledge that the fight is on

They circle each other up, carefully matching the other’s footsteps, like animal and prey, although it’s not yet clear which is which. Crosshair realises only now that he’s not wearing his armour, simply his black overalls, leaving him alarmingly vulnerable to Ventress’ blows, which he now knows to be very powerful. But he is nothing if a not thorough soldier, and he has actually learned a thing or two from watching Ventress fight Hunter and Wrecker. She is small, very thin and light on her feet, although unfortunately, being quite lithe himself, it’s not something he can use against her. On the matter of raw strength, he may be a man, but her lifelong training makes up for the differential that this detail may entail. Timing and precision then, two things he has come to master as a sharpshooter. For the rest, whatever she does, he will have to do it better.

Once more, he notices Ventress waits for him to make the first move. Crosshair gives in, but it’s the last time he promises himself. He throws a couple of punches her way, carefully keeping his guard up. This is more about testing the terrain and seeing how she reacts. They keep this up for a minute before the clone really starts going at her, with more speed and strength this time. Ventress parries some of his jabs, the rest she simply avoids with quick movements of her upper body. She is that good, and it’s already starting to irritate him. Mentally slapping himself to keep his head in the game, he continues his assault.

Left, right jab, he bounces on his feet to follow her movements but she circles around and docks all his blows effortlessly, her guard is not even up anymore, she is just moving her body around with inhuman speed and reflexes now. Ventress blocks one of his blows with her forearm, and counters in his stomach. It hurts, she has hit him there before, during their last fight, but somehow he manages to grab her arm and spin her around.

"Cute display," a smirk tugs at the corners of her lips, her tone laced with amusement, "but this is not a dance."

Crosshair barely has the time to register the mockery before he finds himself losing the upper hand. Indeed, if Ventress was difficult to get a grab on, she is even more difficult to hold onto. Sticking her own arm firmly behind her back, she pulls Crosshair against her with the motion, and uses their body weights against him to roll forward and extricate herself. So far, it is a perfect copy of their first fight, and Crosshair is no closer to finding a blind spot in her technique.

Ventress can see the gears spinning in his head, and picks this very moment to press her own attack, releasing a flurry of strikes down upon him with alluring speed. Despite his best efforts to parry and counter, Crosshair immediately finds himself stuck on the defensive, struggling to keep pace with the successive assaults. Ventress is absolutely ruthless, seizes every single opening, exploiting the slightest lapse in Crosshair's defenses. Her strikes find their mark almost every time with unerring accuracy. She is not only swift in her movements, but also quick at guessing what his next move will be. More often than not, Crosshair gets the unpleasant feeling that she’s working her little force-sensitive mind tricks on him; or maybe he is just trying to console himself.

With each blow, she pushes him further back until he’s cornered against a rock. He faints an error in his footing, and surprisingly, Ventress takes the bait rather easily— eager to end the fight as quickly as possible, no doubt. This is a one-time opportunity, he realises that, and so he gets to work. He dodges the first punch, the second, and feels the air sweep along the side of his face as the fist flies by, a little too close for comfort. Her left flank is open, if he can land a well-placed punch there and knock the wind out of her… But suddenly he feels it, the tremor strikes him like a thousand needles. His right hand flinches in midair, his fist loosens as he struggles to hold it up.

It all goes very fast then, Ventress shoves him hard and away from her, and throws two nasty kicks to his lower abdomen before sending him reeling to the ground, on his knees, his arm twisted behind his back.

"Yield." Her voice is calm as she issues the order, her breathing even despite the effort. Crosshair is a different story.

"No," he grunts in pain, but it’s not just physical. He hates that this part of him is slowing him down, it makes him a liability, and it could cost him in the future. It could cost her brother’s lives… Omega’s. "No," he says again with resolve, which Ventress only interprets as foolish pride.

"Have it your way." She sighs before releasing him. As he barely manages to roll away, he is suddenly gripped by an invisible force that lifts him off the ground. He grips uselessly at his throat, trying to grab at something that is not really there, his feet kicking the air in vain. It is such an odd sensation, like fighting all the elements at once. He feels utterly powerless, and he despises it. No, he will not let himself be strangled into unconsciousness, not a chance.

"Okay—," he gasps, "you win."

Crosshair hits the ground with a thud, his hand rubbing his neck.

"You cheated," he says reproachfully.

"You were being unreasonable," Ventress counters, matching his tone. "You were willing to let me break your arm, over what, pride?"

"It’s not—"

"There’s no shame in defeat."

"Easy to say when you find yourself on the winning end." Crosshair grumbles, attempting to stand up.

"A point." She offers him her hand, which he accepts after a slight hesitation. "Damage?" Crosshair got to his feet with difficulty, holding onto his left flank and shaking his head no.

"You clones are terrible liars." She says matter of factly rather than reproachfully as she looks him over, extending her hand to the one at his midsection. "Let me have a look."

"I’m good." The clone visibly flinches as if he’d been burnt.

"Seriously?" It seemed that Crosshair was more angry than embarrassed after careful consideration. Cute. Ventress tried to keep her smile to herself, unsuccessfully.

"You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?"

"Seeing grown men utterly incapable of accepting defeat? Always." Her grin had only grown wider.

"That’s— I’m not— forget it." As his eyes come to focus on nothing on the ground, Ventress looks at him, really looks at him. He is truly upset, but it is longer clear if it is about the defeat or something else, perhaps something more personal. She herself wasn’t particularly adamant to show her battle scars, or any scars for that matter. Some wore them proudly, for others, it was a testament of their weakness, forever carved in the skin. Crosshair looked like the kind of man who had seen a lot; done a lot. And suffered a lot. Most clones had, she knew, many because of her part in the Separatist war.

"Let me see you home at least." She half offers and asks. Years ago, she wouldn’t have lingered or even looked back twice to help an injured enemy. But that was before. She likes to think that she is a different person now, hopefully a better one too. It doesn’t erase all the bad at all, but it is a start. And besides, this clone is truly intriguing, and hardly an enemy.

Crosshair eyes her suspiciously, looking for any sign of malice or ill intent. He sees none, and nods silently before making his way up the bay, Ventress on his heels, occasionally holding a hand near his lower back as they make their way up, just in case. He doesn’t shy away from the touch this time, which Ventress assumes is because he simply hasn’t noticed. And if he has, well, that’s a start.

That's it for now, folks! Part 2 will be coming shortly with some much needed, um, comfort...

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