#he is reading from the grapes of wrath. quote is from chapter 18

[qs-art]

camping

[feralferrule]

Chapter 4

Word count: 3580ish

Fic Masterlist

Echo x Earthling reader OC (reader has a nickname)

Reader is a captive charged with taking care of Echo in the tower on Skako minor.

Music to set the mood

Warnings: I saved this chapter for kinktober💅. mature content 18+ minors dni, graphic depictions of violence and injury, character death, lactation, spontaneous lactation, adult breastfeeding, angst, sexual arousal, psychological trauma, conveniently placed ductwork, self indulgence, mention and quoting of Grapes of Wrath sorry if you had a terrible high school experience with it. Not beta read or well edited, we die like clones here

I kept physical descriptions of Reader as generic as possible. The artwork is very much self portraiture. Artwork and inspiration at the bottom

Still blinking and rubbing your eyes you frowned at the schedule on the med bay’s data pad. They were busy today. Something was up because the connection to the clone was happening around the clock for the next few days. It gave you very little time with him between sessions. You would have to leave his neural connections plugged in and keep him in the control bay instead of going through the lengthier process needed to fully decouple and then reconnect him to the chamber and network. You figured you’d be able to check over and clean him the first time. Then a couple hours after that you could feed him. Depending on how much you were able to get into him at a time, you could play it by ear how many feedings it would take. Setting a timer you settled down to meditate.

A couple hours later at the sound of the timer you set about the process of removing, tending and replacing the man before the next communication connection came in from the war beyond this world. You were grateful for how much the prosthetics handled his hygiene so as to save you from adding insult to his modesty. You tried pouring healing energy through him and sending him comfort and reassurance, but weren’t sure how effective you were since the collar was still well charged.

You were surprised at how little time you really seemed to have in that window. And worried about how quickly you’d be able to feed him with the sponge. Figuring you’d benefit from a look out your window and some breakfast you went down below to the mess and selected a substantial ration pack and electrolyte drink pack. You thought about dairy cows as you stared out your little window and had a sudden breakthrough memory of watching clones on tv while snuggling little people. Guilt over your abandoned family back home and your inability to put all the pieces together threatened to take you down into crippling depression. Which wouldn’t do, you had someone counting on you even if he didn’t know it. So you took a deep breath and went through your short to do list.

Your own nutrition and hydration (practically eating for two)

Wear down the force collar

Express milk

Scan the man

Inject electrolytes- if there’s any left in the supplies

Feed the man

Put him back

Repeat as necessary

You also had a new short list:

Take care of the man

Wait for help

Escape

Finally break down

After some more meditation on the force and a gradual reconnection to it you made your way back up to the stasis room. There was one little paper cup left in the med bay’s cabinet. Great you thought, searching for anything else, but coming up with nothing. You sighed, and set to work.

The man laid on the gurney, his head still attached to the long tubing that snaked down out of the stasis chamber. You quickly scanned him and saw he was indeed low on electrolytes so you gave him the infusion you had prepared. Injecting it through a port on his arm. After raising him up a bit you started talking to him in a soft voice.

“Hey, it’s me again.” His breathing sped up. “Don’t worry, I’m going to feed you with the sponge. Nothing scary today.” You dialed down the network connection a little with the controls on the panel and raised up your goggles and took off your mask and waited to see if he would rouse. His fingers twitched and his eyelids fluttered and you caught a glimpse of golden eyes. As he tried to focus on you he whispered, “You.” Then unfocused, mumbling nonsense, “ct 1409- ct-….”

“Yes it’s me, Choy, I’m going to give you the sponge now.”

You held up the sopping sponge to his lips and he opened his mouth. You figured there were about 40 or 50 calories in the milk you were able to express. Which wasn’t bad to start out with, but wouldn’t be enough as time went on and he was able to tolerate more. And want more. He sucked the sponge dry a last time and you put it and the cup aside.

“Can I touch you?” You asked.

He twitched his hand. You put your hand over his and squeezed gently. He sighed. With the other you soothed his forehead while reaching out to him with your mind to send him calm and safe thoughts. He felt so cold.

“Ner kar’ika.”

You gasped at his words, a tear slipped down your cheek as you studied his face.

**********

You knelt in the dirt and felt into the body and mind of the young clone soldier. The shy shiny you had met on your first day with the 187th. He was writhing and shuddering in pain, his body so broken, lungs flaming up from inhaling so much dust. Limbs fractured into hideous angles and multiple brain bleeds. There was nothing you could do but block his pain and let him die peacefully. As you calmed his pain he relaxed and sighed “Vor entye, ner kar’ika,” and he slipped away. His body and mind went cold and you broke off your connection. There were so many more to help but you couldn’t move from that spot. A hand touched your shoulder, turned you away from the mangled body and brought you into a hug. “You’ve done enough,” a modulated voice said above your ear. You noticed his jumbled energy, his spicy smell, Slick. He pressed a button on his vambrace behind your back.

“What does ‘vor-ent-yay-kareeka’ mean,” you asked him, clutching his curiass and leaning your cheek on his shoulder.

**********

Your clone seemed more peaceful now. You caressed his cheek and he closed his eyes. You let go of his hand, reached over to the console and dialed the network connection back up.

Your tears were coming fast now. He called you one of the clones’ most precious terms of endearment, his star, his little sun, and you were just a complicit agent of his imprisonment. You quickly put him back in the chamber and knelt down to the floor and had a good ugly cry.

It was four hours till the next window. You got up, put your mask and goggles back on and washed out the cup in the sink since it was the last one and threw out the sponge since there were a ton of them. You headed down to your quarters and plopped onto your bunk. Emotionally spent and having had restless, nightmare infested sleep, you drifted off.

Waking with a start to some banging in the distance you checked the time on the small chronometer on your wrist. It was close to time to feed him again, you rushed out to the elevator to get up there but were stopped by some maintenance droids.

“This area is off limits right now for repair work. The elevator isn’t working and we are trying to figure out what caused the malfunction.”

You looked over at the elevator and saw that they had the doors open but the lift was only half way up in the space. There were pieces of parts laying around and a whole crew of droids looking confused. Your heart sank and you cursed the Skakoan cheapskates. “Good working order, my ass,” you huffed under your breath stalking back to the mess. You grabbed a ration bar and water and sat at a long table. You could only fume and curse the Techno Union, the Skakoans, Slick. Everyone involved in this, everyone who was causing all these problems. The greed, the absolute capital greed of it all, and some neverending source of energy to fuel it. You rarely allowed yourself these moments, but sometimes it got to you.

It took them hours to fix the lift, and you were finally scanned and up level. You weren’t sure when the next window was so you checked the data pad. It had all changed, there was a brief one in 50 seconds and another in two days. That can’t be right, but you dashed out of the med bay and began the process of releasing him so you had maximum time with him- oh but you hadn’t expressed any milk!

As you watched the gurney bed lower down the only solution you could think of intimidated the hell out of you. Reenacting the end of Grapes of Wrath with a Star Wars clone was never how you pictured your life going. You turned him over and turned down the network connection more than last time. As you whispered hello to him he woke up a little, looking over at you with his pale eyes. You slid your goggles up and pulled your mask off.

He smiled weakly, “Kar’ika.”

He seemed more lucid. You smiled and stroked his cheek, “Hey, sweetheart, we have to try something new. I’m going to have to, well, feed you directly from my breast.”

If you felt uncomfortable feeding him before, you were now well out of your comfort zone. Way way out. But this was literally life or death for him so you shoved down all your social programming and questions of consent. You raised him up enough to breast level and pulled your top down in the front and popped the boob closest to him out of your breast band. He looked from your breasts to your face.

“It was my milk I fed you, it’s the only thing I can give you to keep you alive.” Your heart felt like it was going to flutter out of your chest and you had a hard time maintaining eye contact.

His eyes locked onto your chest and darkened.

You supported your breast from underneath and leaned closer to his face bringing your nipple to his lips.

“Please don’t bite.”

He opened his mouth with a studdering breath and drew your nipple in onto his tongue sealing his lips around it. This was really happening. His nose pressed into the plush of your boob.

And he sucked.

Your let-down reflex sprang into action and both breasts released a torrent of milk. You felt him choke a bit and his eyes opened wider. Looking up at you.

You didn’t think you could get more mortified. “I’m sorry sweetie, I can’t help when that happens.” You used your sleeve to dab at the dribble of milk around his lips and smiled down at him.

He swallowed and smiled against you and kept suckling. The sensation sent a twinge straight down a nerve to your core, which set off more tingling behind your nipples as a feedback loop of stimulation circled through your body. After a few more swallows you said, “I need you to switch sides so I’m not uneven.” You popped your nipple out of his mouth, his top teeth barely grazing it, and tucked your breast band over it. Shifting your body slightly and leaning over a little more you sprang your much more engorged and damp tit out and pressed it to his lips.

The pressure in your lower belly and tickle deep in your core activated again as he latched on and gazed up at you. It took your breath away and you had to remember to stay standing. He groaned a bit through his nose and you were sure he would try to wrap his arms around you if he could. You longed for you both to hold each other, but continued to stand by his side, maintaining a tiny bit of propriety. He drained an equal amount from that side and you tapped the tip of his nose.

“I have to go, sweetie,” you tried to say in a steady tone. Your heart felt fluttery, “I’m sorry, you don’t want to over do it.” He swallowed and you pulled back out of his suction gently till he released your nipple with a wet pop. You tucked yourself back into your breast band and fastened your shirt back at the shoulder. You noticed that he could barely keep his eyes open. You caressed the side of his face humming a quiet melody.

“Yaiyai…ika,” he nuzzled into your hand before closing his beautiful golden eyes and drifting off to sleep. Stretching back you dialed up the neural connection again and let him stay upright a few minutes while you hummed more of the song. This allowed his stomach to settle before laying him flat and raising him back into place in the chamber. Just in time for the next network link.

You felt so many things. Arousal. This was something hard wired. His mouth drawing milk from you sent a wild sensation through your whole body, woke something deep. Guilt. You still had the sense of betraying him by putting him back.

And you were grateful that he didn’t bite you.

Waiting two days to see him was torture and it worried you. This was going to hurt, whatever ended up happening to him. Even if you were able to get him to safety, or help would come and rescue him you’d go your separate ways right? You forced that thought down. Your hormones were probably off the charts while he nursed from you which made you feel a bond. He probably wouldn’t even remember any of this or you, right?

You spent these days in your sleep clothes, exercising, meditating, checking his vitals, and shower sessions of manual milk expression because the tits were fully primed now and they seemed to think they had a whole squad to feed. Your brain decided to play the milkshake song. This was not helping with your internal conflict of enjoying breastfeeding a not fully conscious grown man who you didn’t even know. You couldn't stop thinking about him. How he'd flesh out under your care, how the light would come back to his eyes and he would be able to hold you as you held him. Put his mouth other places. OK Stop.

Lenny and Squiggy came by each night to put a new battery in your collar. And each time you were given a brief exposure to the force which you used to stretch your mind and call out for help.

The Skakoans commed you at one point. Their fleshy heads flickering in and out of focus in the holo beam. You gave vague answers, it felt like they were hoping you failed somehow.

Finally the time came to get the man down again. You ate some awful bars for breakfast, changed into some clean day clothes and boots and went up to the med bay to double check the schedule. It showed two windows today and a late one tonight. Good, you’d be able to use the first one for general care and then two feedings. It was hard to gauge how much milk he was getting in him so you decided to just monitor his electrolytes and slowly increase your feeling of emptying with each feeding.

This procedure went well for a few days. He seemed to be filling out and didn’t look so close to death. The sessions continued to affect you and the sensation was getting stronger along with the clone. This was the first time since you’d been in this universe that your breasts weren’t so full and heavy. You were feeling lighter and freer than you had since back home.

Your ability to feed him, to save his life with your own body felt empowering. It gave you a fresh confidence in yourself even if it was just a bodily function and probably the force’s effect. But it gave you power over your sadistic captors who intended to dispose of this man and to punish you for things out of your control, most likely to get out of their contract and keep you.

The days blended together and at some point the mechanism that elevated the head of the bed stopped working. This had you climbing up on the demagnetized table and holding him in your arms in a variety of positions, always mindful to block the view of the occasional patrol droid that would peak in the room on its rotation. You didn’t want to bring attention to the malfunction since word would get back to the Skakoans and there’d be too many questions. Your clone seemed to respond well, liking the closeness and human touch as much as you did. You hadn’t realized how touch starved you had become in the last two years. So you decided you’d dial the network control down more the next time so he could benefit more from some cuddles more lucidly.

But the next time didn’t happen.

Alarms blaring and the sound of blaster fire and shouting somewhere above in the tower woke you from a dream about that very thing. It was so vivid - men rescuing the clone and battleing a droid army with the local natives. You realized it was a memory and not just a dream and this place was in the central plot. Was that good or bad? There was a Jedi here you realized with excitement. The rest of it was still fuzzy but this was it, the rescue, and it had you changing and packing fast. You slung your duffel straps over your shoulder like a backpack, put your mask and goggles on and opened your door

-and there were Lenny and Squiggy.

“We have orders to evacuate you if we are attacked” said Lenny “ Follow us.” You sighed and followed them out to the elevator which opened to a smoking and gaping hole. The droids looked at eachother. “We will have to wait for the lift to be repaired to take you to the safe room at the base of the tower.”

“Ok well I’m going to go use the refresher, I’ll be right back ok thanks you guys, always my heros.” You tapped each of them on their snoots.

They puffed up and saluted you. “Roger Roger, ma’am. “

You did indeed go to the barrack’s refresher, but only to access the air ductwork through a panel that you figured was connected to the cooling system in the floor above. It was large enough for you to shimmy up through it using your arms and feet to brace and climb. You had your small duffel on your head, pushing it ahead of you as you wriggled and inched your way up and finally made it to the next grate.

Peeking through you could see the stasis room. A black ball hovered in the air near the open stasis chamber, jagged purple electric lighting streaking out of it touching all the surfaces. The man was gone, you noticed, and intense worry settled deep in your stomach. You decided to keep climbing to the next level. When you reached the next grate you pushed and pounded it with your fist and it popped out with a clatter. Dragging your duffel down and shoving it through the opening you reached through and braced your shoulders outside the hole. When you pulled yourself out into the room the shaft behind you shuddered with a blast of air. Something must have blown up down there. Now you were very concerned.

You were in the cooling system, it seemed from the chill. There were some muffled sounds down one of the passageways so you cautiously crept that way. A couple turns down the corridor you saw something odd on the floor. Crouching down you saw that it was the clone’s catheter and bag. Oh dang that couldn’t have felt good coming out. But good riddance. You thought grimly about his stoma that would need surgical correction. You looked up, hearing shouts.

After a time of picking and choosing twists and turns, following sounds, you came to an opening to the outside and pressed yourself to the wall next to it. You had caught a glimpse of a blaster fight happening on the pipe that extended out to another tower. You peeked out and saw droids firing on soldiers and a Jedi who were standing and hanging off of the pipe. Then there was a horrible screeching noise and massive flying creatures swarmed the air around the tower. The Jedi shouted and jumped off, landing on a beast. Then another two. You saw one was your clone and you leaned out of the opening to get a better look. It was definitely him and he was flying away on one of the creatures. As the last of the men jumped onto the creatures the droids deployed their wings and flew after them.

The wind whistled. You weren’t sure what to do now. So you sat against the wall tucked inside the tower and looked out to the other up in the clouds across the pipe. Their experiment was gone and the facility probably destroyed. Your contract would be ‘renegotiated’ for sure now. The door on the other side was still open. You could carefully walk across to it and you’d have a better chance at escape. You tried to stretch your mind out into the force but the collar was still too charged for a strong connection. Everything had happened so fast this morning and you felt a compulsion to see that your sweet clone, a main character and hero in this world, made it out safe. So you took a deep breath and stepped out onto the pipe.

🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛inspiration🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛

'Rose of Sharon loosened one side of the blanket and bared her breast... Her hand moved behind his head and supported it. Her fingers moved gently in his hair. She looked up and across the barn, and her lips came together and smiled mysteriously.’ Grapes of Wrath, Steinbeck

My art and the inspiration Roman Charity by Lorenzo Pasinelli c. 1670