#now we have to go do corellia

[stealthetrees]

I am impatient and not actually finished with it but whatever. I tried to write Fox angst but angst is hard and why make it sad when it can be funny.

The others POV would be sad but the Guard just want Fox to stop being a dumb ass.

When Fox woke up, it was to the sound of children arguing. But that’s not his problem. They were grown adults and could solve problems by themselves. Or Thorn would deal with it.

Fox rolled over and went back to sleep.

When he woke up again, after what felt like only a few minutes, the kids were still arguing, but much louder now. Fox blinked his eyes open and tried to focus on what was now apparently his problem.

“Shut up! Shut up shut up shut up! I don’t believe you!”

“Well that’s too bad cause is the truth whether you like it or not!”

“There is no way in hell he’s the youngest!”

God damn it, that wasn’t one of his kids, that’s his medic.

“You weren't even there how would you know!?!”

And that was… Wolffe?

“Well then how is he so much cooler than you?”

“What?”

“If Fox is younger than why did he kill multiple sith when you got your ass kicked by Ventress of all people? Explain that dick head.”

“What do you mean he killed multiple sith?!?”

Well that’s a perfect time to intervene if any, because everyone Fox worked with knew about the feud with Darth Maul, and anyone who didn’t was not going to like the circumstances of his little nap.

Unfortunately, there were circumstances to his current predicament. Sitting up too quickly, Fox nearly passed out again when his vision went black and his ears filled with static. Several arms grabbed him to make sure he didn’t collapse.

Fox breathed deep, trying to stay conscious and not throw up as his vision cleared. He didn’t recognize the room he was in, but he did recognize the people so it was probably fine.

Copper, the Guard’s head medic, was holding Fox’s shoulders while glaring at Wolffe, who stood on the other side of the bed, having let go of Fox because of the intense glare. Ponds, Bly, and Cody filled the rest of the room while Sparrow, still in full armor and fresh off patrol, was crouched in the corner looking like he was in the middle of a mental breakdown.

“Are y’all gonna sort out yer problems like adults or am I gonna have to deal with your bullshit?”

Copper had the decency to look a little embarrassed while his batch mates avoided his gaze.

“That’s what I thought,” said Fox, nodding. “Now where the hell are we?” He pushed his brothers off him.

“The Jedi temple,” said Wolffe, dropping into the chair beside the bed.

“Those… guys found you in the Chancellor's office and freaked out. Dragged you all the way here. I got pulled into this mess cause they kept asking questions about yer medical history,” Copper said, wisely replacing whatever he was going to call them.

“Do you remember what happened? We found you on the floor of the Chancellor’s office awake but unresponsive,” Bly asked.

“Well, one minute I was working in the safe in the chancellor's desk the next thing I know I’m back on Corellia strapped to a table while some guy peels the skin off my arm. It was crazy,” said Fox, scratching the back of his neck.

That was the wrong thing to say. The uproar that followed his words brought the wrath of a Jedi healer down upon all of them, and after many threats of banishment from the room, everyone quieted down.

“Just an undercover job that went bad. It’s not a big deal, exept when the mind fuck thing happens,” Fox explained.

“What is the mind fuck thing?” cried Bly.

“What do you mean it’s not a big deal?” demanded Ponds.

“When a sith makes you relive your worst moments, like with the force or something,” explained Sparrow while everyone talked over him.

“Look, y’all fight sith way more than I do, you’ve probably had it worse,” said Fox, trying to divert their attention away from how he lost his arm.

“No? We don’t?? We fight droids???” Cody’s voice climbed in pitch as he edged towards hysteria. Wolffe buried his face in his hands.

“No offense, but I doubt your batch goes looking for Sith Lords to antagonize,” said Copper.

“I do not go looking for anything! Sidious just likes torturing me,” Fox shot back, causing more dismay from his brothers.

“I don’t think breaking into his ‘secret’ lair and trying to kill him in his bed count,” called Sparrow. Little fucker was always ready to gang up on Fox. How the medics had won him over was a mystery.

“And you said you were trying to get into the safe with the contract, so it’s no wonder Sidious tried to off you,” said Copper dismissively. “Honestly, I’m on his side for this one. Sith Lord or not the old fuck is entirely within his right to fuck you up.”

[mydearlybeloathed]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: ezra just can't figure out why you hate him so much.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: ghost crew x f!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.7k

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: requested, mentioned enslavement, reader is kinda mean, no use of Y/N

Now, Ezra wasn’t one to jump to conclusions, but what other conclusion was there? 

You had to hate his guts. You refused to look at him and you wouldn’t talk to him, not to mention the glare you weren’t at all trying to hide. Sabine told him to not worry about it, that you would open up on your own time. Somehow, Ezra doubted that.

Hera told him something similar about giving you time, and he understood why; it’d only been a week since your grand and harrowing rescue from the clutches of the Hutts (the crew had yet to tell him why you needed rescuing in the first place).

A few months into joining the crew, it became clear that someone was missing. Sabine’s room held the belongings of another, another person’s blanket and pillow situated on the bottom bunk. An utterance of a stranger’s name was sometimes whispered, accompanied by shadowed looks and a tense silence.

When he got up the nerve to ask, Hera had pursed her lips and crossed her arms. “There’s a reason you’re Spectre 7, not 6. Six is… somewhere.”

“How do we find them?”

Hera hadn’t given an answer, simply letting out a sigh and turning to go back to her tasks.

So the mystery of Spectre 6 lived on, remnants of this girl coming to him in pieces. Little jokes here and there about how Six would yell about this or how she would laugh at that. Ezra started to piece together an image of this girl in his head, imagining a smiling figure with fuzzy features, doing flips and handstands across his mind.

“If only Six was here,” Zeb commented into his comlink as he and Ezra balanced across a skinny support beam. “Little acrobat would come in handy.”

Kanan and Sabine stayed up at odd hours of the night when they weren’t aware Ezra was watching from around the corner, mumbling to themselves as they scoured databases for clues as to where the lost Spectre had gone.

“Bingo,” Sabine grinned, frantically tapping Kanan’s arm. “The mercenaries that took her are from Corellia.”

Kanan set a hand on her shoulder. Hope flashed in his eyes. “Good work. We’ll get her back soon.”

Whoever she was, she sure meant a lot to the crew. So much so that he started to grow bitter at whatever had taken her away—Ezra started to want her back just as much as the rest of them.

And so naturally, when Vizago crawled out whatever hole he dwelled in to drop off a message from the Hutts, Ezra was a rapt listener—it went something along the lines of, “Take back your sewer rat… for five thousand Imperial credits.”

“We don’t have that money,” said Sabine, her voice a new dangerous low. Her eyes lasered in on the table before her as a sense of fury rose within the common.

Zeb scoffed, his fists curling. “Why weren’t the Hutts out first guess? Of course they wanted her back.”

“Why?” Ezra asked without thinking. 

While Zeb’s eyes flashed darkly, Kana answered offhandedly, “Back before we found her, she worked for them—the Hutts—she was their prize weapon.”

“We got her out,” Hera said softly. “But a few weeks before you got here… she went out on a solo mission.” She hugged herself. “I shouldn’t have let her go.”

“She would’ve gone whether you let her or not,” Sabine quipped. “That’s how she is.”

Ezra stepped forward and set his hands on the table everyone gathered around, his eyes raising to assess his friends. “Let’s stop talking about it and make a plan. She can’t be safe there.”

The rescue mission itself was near flawless; Kanan and Hera went forward with a crate “full of credits.” Plot twist: there were no credits. Coming in behind them, Sabine and Chopper infiltrated the lower kitchens of the Hutts’ headquarters, taking out a few droids and taking one prisoner. With a few gentle threats, Sabine sent word to Zeb and Ezra exactly where Spectre 6 was being held. 

That was where the plan went awry; while Zeb was held back by a wary yet naive droid, Ezra slipped past unnoticed, casting Zeb a wave as he dove around a corner and headed deeper into the fortress. 

Finding the cell wasn’t much of a problem, nor was getting the door open—the problem at hand was getting you out of the cell.

You were curled into a shadowed corner like some kind of alley cat, eyes lifting to gaze upon him with nothing but contempt. From the moment he saw you, he had the sense you disliked his very being.

Somehow—he still wonders how—he managed to convince you he was with the Ghost crew, luring you out of the cell and leading you to where the others had started up a racket after getting caught with no payment. The final escape was slim, and your hair was singed from a too-close blaster fire.

Ezra noticed, eyes wide as he moved to swat at the slowly rising smoke. “Are you okay?”

You swatted him away, glare ready and waiting. “Fine.” And you disappeared, rushing deep into the ship with a frazzled Hera on your tail.

His every attempt at communication after was met with backlash. You really did seem like a cat in his mind, all hissy and skittish. 

“Be patient,” is what everyone told him, but really, it was getting out of hand. After three months of your return, you had yet to drop your hatred, and it was starting to interfere in missions. 

Just last week he’d been about to make a shot that would have saved time concerning a quick escape when you completely ignored his presence and tripped him. 

“Sorry,” you’d said, not sounding very sorry at all.

That wasn’t the end of it either.

“Do you need something?”

“Go be useful, if you can.”

“Could you be more amazingly purposeless here?”

Ezra had to give it to you, you certainly had a knack for tearing down a guy’s self-esteem. Each insult seemed to roll off your tongue so easily that Ezra came to correlate your voice with a bad day.

You could not possibly have made Ezra feel more unwelcome, despite everyone’s assurances that you’d warm up eventually. Ezra started to question the crew’s definition of eventually. He really hoped you would start to like him soon, because you were quite possibly one fo the coolest people he’d ever seen.

When you weren’t actively making his life difficult, you were training day in and day out, practicing acrobatics atop the Ghost. Not to mention, if he and Kanan didn’t have some sixth sense thanks to the Force, your movements would be deadly silent. You moved like a specter, like your feet never even touched the ground. 

Today was like most days in accordance with you; you ignored his existence save for the occasional backlash whenever he stepped into your vicinity, and Ezra was left to wonder after the dark and nearly forlorn look constantly trapped in your eyes (he always tried to despise you, like he could easily despise Zeb at times, but there was something in how lost you looked that stopped him).

Though, today was different. Every once in a while you took to the habit of taking his beloved helmet for reasons only the stars could know. On these days he could scour the Ghost to find you lazing about like a cat, donning his helmet as you stared at the expanse of sky from the gunner. 

So he immediately set out for the gunner of the ship, already preparing his quippy remark, only to falter when you were nowhere in sight. Ezra squinted at the vacant seat, zeroing in on the dual beskar knives safely in their sheathes. Beskar, he awed for the umpteenth time. He’d asked after them too many times to count, only receiving one answer from Sabine: “We used to have similar lines of work. She was very skilled at hers. That came with perks.”

And the mystery of you expanded, as it always did.

“Hey.” Ezra looked into the dimness of your and Sabine’s room, finding the latter at her desk fiddling with her recently damaged blaster. “You seen Six?”

“Why?” She sighed as her blaster sparked up again. “You gonna start problems?”

“Okay, one, I never start anything with her. Two, I just want my helmet back.”

Sabine threw her blaster down, frustrated. “Haven’t seen her today. You checked the gunner?”

“Three times, just in case she was hiding.” That got a laugh from Sabine, who shifted to stand and stretch. 

“Then I dunno how to help you, kid. She’s gotta be somewhere.”

That would have been fine advice, if for the rest of the day Ezra didn’t continue searching the recesses of the ship, his intent slowly shifting from demanding back his helmet to just making sure you’re still alive. 

Ezra burst into the common room around the time the whole crew was gathering to grab something to eat at the end of the day, his hands planted on either side of the door as he said with a sudden urgency. “Has anyone seen Six?”

Sabine had the nerve to roll her eyes. “Again with the helmet? She’ll give it back—”

“Has anyone seen her?” Ezra cut in to demand once more, scanning his eyes across the room. “Think.”

Only a moment passed before the others started to furrow their brows and shift around. Hera glanced up at Ezra. “Not since this morning.”

A murmur of agreement ran through the crew. No one had seen her all day, neither had they heard her voice from across the ship, shouting about something or other that someone had done wrong.

Thus, the manhunt began, but even when everyone was shouting your name throughout the ship, there was no response. Lothal’s moons had already risen about halfway into the sky. Creatures started to come out at this hour, varying from the wild things to troopers. 

You were out on the Lothal plains after dark, without your knives, and Ezra suddenly forgot every wrong you’d done against him. You were a pain in his ass, but if you were gone, he wasn’t sure what he’d do. 

Setting out was the easy part, Hera and Chopper staying behind to watch the Ghost whilst the others rushed into the night, armed with their weapon of choice. Ezra took one of the stolen speeders stowed away in the hold, swinging a leg over and taking off across the plains as Sabine took the second speeder in the other direction. 

Ezra tried to ignore the wind hitting his face and focused solely on the hum of the speeder, the sway of the tall grasses, and the sudden and faint flutter of a heartbeat somewhere in the distance. Over the course of his training with Kanan, Ezra took to secretly memorizing the sound of your spirit, not wanting to be on the receiving end of your notorious sneak attacks. 

Practically shutting off everything other sense, he leaned to the right, following the ringing of your heart and soul deeper into the plains. The grasses grew taller here, unhindered by farming, and rocks stretched high into the sky, forming a sort of labyrinth between them. He weaved the speeder in and out of several stone mountains, sensing the ring growing closer. 

The ground elevated into a slope as the rocks fell away to reveal dusty ground, and Ezra took a left at the very last large mountain. It opened up to a bluff overlooking the East. Ezra slowed the speeder to a light rev, the ringing now a strong buzz, and your heart a steady beat in his head. 

You were here, that was for sure. 

Cutting the ignition, Ezra stepped off the speeder and sauntered forward, eyes scanning the area. Just when the buzz and ring of the force grew too much, Ezra caught a movement ahead of him, and the sounds all fell away. A figure was sprawled out on the grass, shifting every few seconds like they couldn’t get comfortable.

Then the figure sighed, and Ezra confirmed it was you (he’d heard that agitated sound enough times to know it as yours). 

Ezra should have learned by now to proceed with extreme caution, but he had always been a stubborn learner, so he trudged through the grass uncaring of the crunching underfoot. You lurched upward like a frightened animal, eyes locked on him in her instant. Ezra instantly drew a mental image of a loth cat, hackles risen and fangs bared. The likeness was uncanny.

“What’re you doing here?” You sat back slowly, examining him carefully.

He nearly scoffed. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”

Blinking blankly, you turned and plopped down on the grass, facing the plains. He stood for an awkward few moments before you snapped, “I’m fine. You can go.”

“Yeah, right.” He plopped down in the dirt beside you, a generous berth between you. “You scared the kark out of everyone.”

Your answer was instantaneous. “Why?”

Ezra paused, thought some, looked at you, and spat the awkward words out. “We care about you.”

You waited for the blow, the butt of the joke, but it never came, and you were left awkwardly staring at his profile. “Oh.”

“Is that a surprise?” he wondered.

“No,” you shook your head. “Not for the others…”

Ezra rolled his eyes and leaned back on his hands, unable to take it any longer. “Can I ask you something? Why do you hate me so much?”

You blinked as if the question shocked you, and wasn’t at all valid. “What? I don’t hate you.”

“Coulda fooled me,” he scoffed. You huffed and turned away, crossing your arms over your knees. 

“Well, I don’t. You’re just…”

“Just what?”

Pursing your lips, your eyes darted back to meet his, brows furrowed. “Annoying.”

Ezra met your gaze back with a mirrored intensity. “And you’re rude.”

“I wouldn’t be if you’d leave me alone.”

“We’re on this crew together!” he snapped. “I physically cannot ignore you. So, if you could get over whatever grudge you have against me, that’d be great!”

“Don’t—” You got a grip on your emotions, averting your attention to the sky. In a softer tone, you warned, “Don’t yell at me.”

Taken aback, Ezra gave you an odd look, shifting to catch your eye. You just shifted further away from him, grunting something under your breath. You’d always been so haunted and withdrawn. No one would ever tell him why.

It couldn’t hurt to ask.

“Are you…” He hesitated, waiting till you cast him a glance. “Are you okay? Why were you with the Hutts? And what does it have to do with bounty hunters? Why—”

You sneered as your hand clamped down on his mouth, nearly knocking him backward. Holding his eyes in a glare, you huffed. “Just shut up, okay? You ask too many questions.” You plopped back down and retracted your hand. “Annoying, like I said.”

“I want to help you.”

“Did I ask?”

The silence was thick, broken only by the chirping of bugs in the tall stalks all around. You ran a hand over your face, almost trying to hide, before sighing and glaring at the sky. “Whatever… I used to be something of a bounty hunter. A weapon, more like.”

Ezra felt like that should have been obvious, and did his best to hold back his questions as you shifted uncomfortably. “Some bad people with the Guild found me as a kid, when I was just some nobody doing acrobat tricks for money. They thought I had potential, so they just… took me. Didn’t really matter. It was better than the streets, I guess.”

Tugging at your hair, you gave a little shrug. “They taught me a lot about killing and stealing and what-not. Long story short, I was sold to the Hutts like this shiny new assassin toy.” You pumped a fist. “Yay.”

He felt a little bad for grinning, sniffing as he nodded. “Then what? You got here somehow.”

“I’m getting there,” you gritted. You tried to look pissed, but couldn’t hold back a slight grin. “Sabine found me, like, a year before they found you. She was on a mission, and I tried to pick-pocket her. She chased me a mile around the city before she caught me.  A shorter story short, the crew helped me escape the Hutts, and the rest is history.”

One thing still didn’t add up. “How’d the Hutts get you back?”

“Oh, uhm… they caught me.” There is was again; haunted, a shadow crossing your eyes as memories played up in your head. “I, uh, didn’t think the crew would come after me, to be honest. I kinda resigned myself to a life trapped on Tatooine.” 

You caught his eye. “Then you showed up and broke me out.”

“Was that such a surprise?”

“Maybe. I mean,” you murmured whilst playing with the grass. “It didn’t take too long for them to replace me, did it?”

And suddenly, it all fell perfectly into place. All the hatred and coldness, the malice and contempt… you thought they’d replaced you. Really? Ezra coudln’t stop the laugh bubbling out of his chest, not even when you shot him a deathly glower.

“What’s so funny?”

“You just—What?” Ezra shifted ot his knees, beaming down at you as he shook his head. “They never replaced you. All I ever heard when I joined was about this mysterious crewmate they’d lost.” He flicked your forehead. “If they replaced you, then why’re you still Spectre 6 and I’m Spectre 7?”

You started to snap back only to stop short, gaping like a fish as you grasped for some kind of defense. You couldn’t find one, apparently, and promptly snapped your mouth shut. 

“I never thought of that,” you muttered at last.

No duh. Ezra barely held back a roll of his eyes. “Think about it then.”

You did (he could tell form your thoughtful sneer) and you slowly raised your gaze to look at him again. The haunting was still there, but your eyes were softer than they’d ever been when laid upon him. “I’m… sorry.” The way your face scrunched up amde it seem like ti was painful to say, your monotone going on, “The way I’ve treated you hasn’t been fair.”

“Thanks,” he said with a gentle nod, and an awkwardness settled around the pair of you. “So… wanna head back?”

Instantly you shook you head, returning your attention to the sky. “Not yet. Wanna watch the stars.”

He noticed your lack of jacket just as he shivered. “You’ve gotta be cold.”

“Eh,” you shrugged. “I’m fine. You can head back if you want.”

Ezra didn’t move an inch. All he could think wa sthat maybe, he was finally going to get to know the Six the crew knew. The one who laughed freely and pulled tricks. The one that played hide and seek with Kanan and was always so frustrated when he cheated and used to force to find you. 

So he stayed right where he was, lazing back on the grass to have a better view of the sky. “Nah. I’ll stay.”

You cast him a short glance as you laid back as well. “Okay…”

Only an hour later, when you’d fallen asleep and punched Ezra when he tried to wake you (“I’m sorry!” “Yeah, yeah.”), did you and Ezra head back to the Ghost. You kept falling asleep on him, forcing him to use one hand to steer the speeder and the other to keep you hands around his middle. 

Relief coursed through him when he caught sight of the ship, warm light flowing from the open hatch, a few silhouetted figures pacing back and forth. He pulled the speeder to a stop and leg you go, sighing even as you slid off and hit the ground with a thud.

Probably not the best choice, especially not when Hera bolted from where she sat and rushed to your side. “What happened? It she all right?” She glared up from the ground. “Ezra!” 

He raised his hands in surrender, trying to defend himself, when you groaned and blinked blearily around. “Why am I on the ground…?”

Hera gripped your shoulder and held your face in her palm, startling you. “Are you okay?”

You nodded hesitantly and tried not to seem too content with the soft touches. “Yeah? I was just asleep.”

Harsh footsteps echoed form the ship and out stomped Zeb moments later, rough around the edges per usual. “Where’ve you been!?”

“Uhm, out?” you replied, brows vaulted as Sabine rushed out beyond him. The whole crew stood around, all looking a mix of relieved and pissed. “I was just up on the bluffs…”

Hera let out a sigh and allowed you to sit up on your own. “And that’s fine, but you should tell someone before you disappear all afternoon.”

“I didn’t think it mattered that much.” You shifted around and stood to your feet, crossing your arms over your chest. 

No one really said anything, only exchanged odd glances, until Hera blinked quickly and set a hand on your shoulder. “You look cold. Come on.”

She made to guide you inside when you suddenly stopped, turned to Ezra, and grinned tightly. “You’re… not so bad.”

And with that, Hera dragged you into the warmth fo the Ghost, leaving behind you a fairly confused crew. All eyes fell to Ezra as he smirked and gave a simple shrug. Sabine offered up a smile of her own before she snapped and pointed at the boy. “Oh, you were looking for your helmet right?”

He’d completely forgotten. “Oh, yeah.”

She passed a hand over his hair, ruffling it up. “It’s under your desk, idiot.”

Ezra huffed, hiding the flush in his cheeks as he muttered under his breath, following after Zeb and Sabine as they headed inside the ship. The hatch rose up behind them and hissed shut just as Kanan came up beside Ezra, one brow raised. 

“So you two are friends now?”

He rolled his eyes at that. “I think so? She’s very cryptic. But, I don’t think she hates me.”

Kanan laughed. “That’s a start, I suppose.”

Ezra had to agree. 

And as time would pass, and your walls slowly tore down to reveal a human so bright and radiant, both you and Ezra nearly forgot all about the days you’d come close to murdering him. 

[7-wonders]

Between Wrath and Mercy

Sith!Ankain Skywalker x Rebel!reader (gender-neutral)

Summary: Finding yourself in a fight with Darth Maul, you quickly realize that you're way out of your depth. Unfortunately, no one's coming to save you. Aha, unless?

Word Count: 2.0k

A note from the author: Remember how I was like, "I'm having a lot of trouble writing the words aren't coming like they used to"? I think this helped to unclog a bit of the writer's block I've had. Maybe I just need to write for a different fandom for a bit. This takes place in my Rebel!reader fic-verse (gender-neutral reader!), but before What You Stand to Lose. As always, likes, comments, and reblogs make my world go round (especially the latter two), and I hope you enjoy!

How do I keep ending up in situations like this? you wonder as you dodge yet another Sith Lord’s lightsaber strike and immediately counter it with your own.

That’s a stupid question, because you know how. You decided to join the Rebel Alliance, to fight for a noble cause, and now your life is pretty consistently put in mortal danger. Still, when a mission to try and convince the head of Crimson Dawn that you were all fighting for the same goal was proposed, you were the first to volunteer. Maybe it’s a desperation to prove yourself as useful that made you do it, or maybe you need to remind yourself that you’re working for something good. Regardless, you had been stupid and self-assured, enough so that General Kessyk had given you a small team to command and sent you on your way to Corellia.

Said small team is now incapacitated, rendered useless almost the moment you had ambushed the Crimson Dawn leader who had turned out to be none other than Darth Maul—a surprise to you all, since Dryden Voss is the public face of the syndicate. This revelation completely turned your game plan on its head, as you’re now left to face his wrath alone.

And he has a lot of wrath.

“Look, if you would just listen for a moment,” you yell at him over the sound of electricity humming, “I think you would see that we all want the same thing!”

“And what thing is that?” Darth Maul snarls, raising his blade above his head and attempting to crash it down on top of you.

You meet it with your own, gritting your teeth under the strain as you attempt to hold him back. “The end of the Galactic Empire!”

He bears down harder in response, and your arms begin to shake. Knowing when to give up some yield is half the success in battle, so you adjust your strategy and drop to your knees, doing a quick roll to get some space in between you. He turns to face you once more, his yellow eyes so filled with hatred that it makes a frightened whimper get stuck in your throat.

“Please, we only came to talk. We can be allies!” you plead.

“What happens after the Empire is defeated? We part on good terms and go our separate ways?” Maul shakes his head, twirling his saber and stalking towards you. “No. At the end of the day, the Sith will always be an enemy. I will always be an enemy.”

“I’m sure that—woah!” He renews his attacks with vigor, clearly done talking. Unfortunately for him, you’re not done. “I’m sure that the Rebel Alliance would be happy to negotiate some sort of treaty.”

“I have had enough of arrogant little Force users thinking that they can change the galaxy with ‘the power of goodness,’” he mocks. “You are not the first to approach me with your misguided ideals.”

Maul kicks the center of your chest and sends you falling to the ground, a position you never want to find yourself in when fighting for your life. Attempting to scramble backward is made extra difficult with the lightsaber in your hand, and it’s only delaying the inevitable as Maul follows you slowly, a predator stalking his prey. With a firm smack, your saber goes flying out of your reach.

He holds his lightsaber to your chest and smirks down at you as it burns a hole through the fabric of your shirt. “But you will be the last.”

You raise both hands up in a last-ditch plea, though you know it’s for naught. This is it. You’ve lost. You’ll become just another name on the long list of lives lost as sacrifices for the fight for a better tomorrow.

Though you’d like to say that a sense of peace comes over you as you stare your impending death in the eyes, that’s not the case. You’re scared out of your mind, actually, and the only thing comforting you is the fact that it’ll be a quick death. With that in mind, you close your eyes and await the inevitable.

But the inevitable never comes. Where you were expecting pain and darkness, there’s simply darkness from screwing your eyes shut. After a couple of long moments, you hesitantly open your eyes. Darth Maul no longer looms over you. Instead, he’s a few feet away, engaged in battle with someone else.

“It was foolish of me to believe that Kenobi could actually finish the job and successfully kill somebody for once,” he spits, twirling his saber in his hand as another red saber clashes with his.

“You said it, not me!”

Belatedly, you realize that you know that cocky, annoying voice. Sure enough, Darth Vader is now Darth Maul’s opponent, and he’s faring much better than you had. His helmet is off, allowing you to see the arrogant grin he’s sporting, and his blond curls fly around his face as he swings his lightsaber through the air.

“Vader?” you call, still feeling like your eyes are deceiving you. 

He looks over at you, his grin somehow getting bigger. “C’mon, get up and help me out!”

You stumble to your feet and call your lightsaber back to your hand using the Force, but remain back. Vader doesn’t need your help, because he’s very clearly winning. You would only be a hindrance if you were to join, so instead, you watch.

Even if you didn’t know that the two Sith lords had been trained for a very long time, their fighting styles would make it obvious. The way that they move, so fluidly and deadly, is an art form. It almost looks like a dance, if a dance could end in somebody’s death.

“Darth Sidious won’t be pleased when he finds out you’re helping out the Rebel Alliance,” Darth Maul taunts, bending over backward to avoid a swing.

Darth Vader curses at the near-miss. “Oh, but I’m not.”

“Then what do you call this?”

He looks over his shoulder and winks at you. “Helping the one particular Rebel that I have a vested interest in.”

“Pathetic!” Darth Maul spits.

Vader’s lightsaber makes contact with the palm of Maul’s hand, and he yells out in pain. He catches his saber with his other hand before it can fall to the ground, but he’s unable to grip it with both hands now. Though he could fight one-handed, against somebody as talented as Darth Vader, he wouldn’t be very successful. The light from his saber disappears as he extinguishes it, giving one curt nod before he backs off.

“This is not the end,” he promises.

“No, I don’t believe it is.”

Though Vader could very easily finish him, there are rules to a battle. When one willingly concedes, the fight is over, no matter how much the other wishes that it wasn’t. You and Vader both watch as Maul makes it to his ship and escapes, flying high above your heads and away from Corellia.

Vader turns his attention to you, wrapping his large hands around your upper arms and looking you up and down. “Are you alright?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

“You were the one about to die.”

“I had it under control,” you claim, even though you very much did not have it under control. “And I didn’t need you to save me.”

“Oh, you didn’t? That’s not what it looked like to me.” 

His fingers move to the open hole in your shirt left by Maul’s lightsaber above your heart. The skin there is shiny from a light burn—it’s nothing that will hinder you in the long run, but it does sting a bit, especially when Vader lightly touches this wound. You hiss through your teeth, but he doesn’t move.

“Your heart is beating so fast,” he notes, his voice soft from concentration.

Your cheeks burn at this because you know there are a couple of reasons for your racing heart, and only one of them is from the exertion of battle. Wiggling your hands up, you get enough of a space that you can lightly push yourself away from Vader.

“What are you—how did you know that I would be here?” you demand, having been under the assumption that everybody had done very well in making sure this was a top-secret mission.

“We received some intel that the Rebel Alliance would be making a rather stupid attempt at reaching out to Crimson Dawn. I was going to just let Maul have at it, but then I thought, ‘What are the odds that my Rebel would be involved in this?’”

“I am not your Rebel.” The way that he looks at you, like you mean something to him, makes your heart clench in a way that you don’t want to consider right now. Onto the next subject, then. “Why did you help me in the first place? You could have let him kill me. You should have let him kill me, actually. Would have saved you a lot of trouble.”

“I don’t want you dead.”

You roll your eyes. “Of course, you just want me to join you and go against every one of my morals.”

“I still have morals, Rebel. If you were willing to listen, to be open-minded, I think you’d find that the Dark Side is not evil. Where the Light Side wanted their Jedi to shirk all of their emotions and attachments, the Dark Side encourages those emotions. Anger, sadness, passion…love. Sith believe in a world where we’re all free to feel what we want, to allow that which scares us to be out in the open so that we may overpower it. You can’t tell me that this sounds evil.”

You remain silent, because you don’t know what to think. With how Vader puts it, the Dark Side doesn’t sound all evil. Actions speak louder than words, however, and you’ve seen the terror and devastation that the Empire and the Dark Side have unleashed on the galaxy. You’re not willing to dwell on it right now (or ever, really; just thinking about the possibility of Vader’s words having some validity makes you feel like you’re betraying the Rebel Alliance), so you force it to the back of your mind and refuse to think about it any longer.

“Well, I think my work here is done,” Vader declares with a sigh, clipping his saber back onto his belt.

You look at him in confusion. “Wait, you’re not…going to force me to be your apprentice? I mean, now’s kind of the perfect time.” You don’t want him to do so, but you were sure you knew what his end goal was, since he’s made it clear every other time you’ve encountered him.

“It is,” he agrees. “But I’ve decided that it does no good to have you join me against your will. When the time comes, you’ll give yourself to me—to the Dark Side willingly.”

He sounds so sure of this, like it’s a foregone conclusion. You’re about to argue, to insist once more that you’ll never join him, when you hear groaning behind you.

“Looks like your crew is starting to come to,” Vader notes. “I’ll see you soon.”

You don’t doubt that, but you won’t let him know that. “I sure hope not.”

He laughs, already walking to his own ship. “Make sure to get that burn checked out so that it doesn’t get infected!” he yells to you.

The groaning gets louder before you can tell him to not tell you what to do, and somebody calls your name sluggishly. Your pilot is trying to roll over onto his hands and knees, and the others aren’t far behind him in waking up. You get ready to help, as all good Rebels do—because that’s what you are, someone good and helpful and nothing at all like the Sith Lord that increasingly occupies your thoughts as of late.

You’re not like him, you tell yourself, and you’ll do everything in your power to ensure that you won’t ever be like him.

[brewsterispunkk]

FIND YOU AGAIN

pairing: mando x reader

WC: 1.5k

rating/warnings: none yet

summary: “i will look for you in every lifetime, until we finally stay” or, the beginning of it all

a/n: heyyyy. so i’ve had this in the works for forever. i’m so happy to finally share it with you. this chaoter is mostly exposition!

series masterlist

PART ONE: a long time ago, in agalaxy far, far away

i. the beginning

You freeze in place in your seat at the dusty cantina when he walks in, commanding the attention of everyone in the room.

You’ve never seen a mandalorian before. Not a real one, anyway.

You grew up on Corellia, scavenging the streets of the bustling industrial planet. Naturally, you’ve seen a few pieces of stolen and ancient beskar through the years, but never a full set. Never full beskar armor.

If you weren’t so scared, you would ogle the imposing man like everyone else in the cantina.

You’d been licking your wounds, deciding to day-drink in the local cantina.

You knew it would be only a matter of time until Aven sends one of his goons again after you to collect what he’s owed.

The cut on your cheek from the last time he’d threatened you stings in response. You wince. If you were anywhere else in the galaxy, on a planet like Coruscant, it’d be easy to disappear into the masses. Here, though, it’s nearly impossible. You’re backed into a corner. Maybe a mandalorian is better than the Twi’lek and Zabrak Aven sends to do his dirty work. At least this will be clean.

Your breath freezes in your throat when the Mandalorian comes to a stop on the barstool next to you.

Shit, you think. This is it.

For a moment, you allow yourself to think of all you wish you could’ve done. How much of the galaxy you wanted to see before your life ended. Now, you’d be spending the rest of it in carbonite.

You take a shaky breath as the beskar-clad bounty hunter sits on the stool beside you.

“Okay,” you turn to him. “I won’t put up a fight.”

His helmet tilts toward you as you address him. You gaze into the black of the t-shaped visor.

“I know you’re here for me. I didn’t pay—I get it. But, please, can I say goodbye to someone first?”

His helmet tilts to the side at your words.

“I won’t try to run, I promise.”

“You—“

The words die in his throat as the doors to the cantina swing open. You freeze as the three men you’ve come to recognize as part of Aven’s circle storm in.

There’s the two usual suspects: the twi’lek and Zarback, plus a new man, a human with a scar and an eyepatch.

Their eyes scan through the room and stop on you.

Fuck, maybe the Mandalorian wasn’t sent to get you.

Panic rises in you as they begin to make their way toward you.

Maybe you will die today.

“Get up,” you barely have time to register the deep, modulated voice before a gloved hand is pulling you to your feet roughly.

“Eyes forward, hands behind your back,” he orders. “Now.”

You’re dumbstruck: what the hell is going on? But, you obey. It’s your best bet.

Wordlessly, he clips metal handcuffs around your wrists behind your back, grabbing them with one hand. The Mandalorian shoves you forward roughly.

“Walk.”

You do, tripping over your feet. Your eyes find Aven’s goons at the door, their own eyes watching your exchange with the Mandalorian. They look as confused as you feel.

“That’s right, don’t even think about running,” the Mandalorian pulls you backward toward his chest, the corner of his helmet kissing your cheek. “Because I will catch you.”

You shiver and nod as he pushes you out of the cantina and into the hot, dry Jakku sun.

- -

You take the job because you’re on the run, and you need to get the hell off of Jakku.

Once you leave the cantina, the Mandalorian leads you roughly to the back of the building, coming to a stop in an alley.

Without saying a word, he turns you around and unlocks the cuffs that bind your wrists.

You rub them tenderly. The metal-covered man comes to stand in front of you.

“Those were the men after you, I take it?” He asks.

You furrow your eyebrows and nod.

“I—yeah. What was that?”

“You looked like you could use the help,” he shrugs.

You blanch.

“Well, thanks,” you blink. “But, I don’t know if you’ve done more than delay the inevitable. I’ll be dead by the end of the week if I don’t get off this rock.”

He tilts his head, causing the silver of his helmet to glint in the sun. You sigh.

“I owe this guy—Aven—some money. A lot of money, actually. Then last week, he tried to get me to pay in…other ways. He didn’t take it well when I refused him.”

It was terrible. Your skin crawled just remembering the way his eyes raked over your body when you’d gone to make one of your monthly payments.

“Hm,” the Mandalorian hums.

“So, thanks, but,” you deflate, not knowing how to finish that sentence.

“What if,” he begins, his voice nothing more than a modulated grumble. “You owe me one.”

“I’m sorry?” You ask.

“I helped you out. You owe me a favor.”

“I’d be happy to return it, uh, sir,” you say, tripping over what to call him. “But, you don’t have much time to cash it in.”

“I need help. On my ship.”

“On your…ship?” You ask, heart leaping.

This could be it. Your ticket off of this planet, your freedom.

“I-I’m not a mechanic. I’m a scavenger, I can’t—“

“You good with kids?”

“—what?”

“Kids. You good with them?”

You blink, lost for words. This is …bizarre. A Mandalorian—one that just dragged you out of your favorite cantina—is asking you for …childcare? It’s so comical you almost laugh.

“I guess?”

“I need someone to watch my kid while I work. Travel with me. I can’t keep an eye on him and hunt at the same time.”

“You have a kid?”

He nods.

You stare at the impassive face of his mask and wonder. You’re at a crossroads: do you accept whatever fate Aven has planned for you, or put your future in the hands of a man you’ve only just met?

“Will you take the job?”

You take a breath, before closing your eyes tight.

You open them, and nod.

- -

“He’s …yours?”

The baby is green. The baby is green.

He has big, endless, black eyes and a little button nose situated under. His forehead is wrinkled, and he smiled under clawed hands. He’s …cute. Albeit in a strange way.

You have never before seen a life form even remotely like him. It’s fascinating. What is he doing with a Mandalorian?

“He’s adopted.”

You chuckle at the awkward admission.

The Mandalorian—or, Mando, as he told you to call him—is holding the baby at his hip, in the cockpit of his ship, the Razor Crest. What will be your home for the foreseeable future.

He’s given you the tour already.

The ship is old—pre-empire, but it gets the job done. It’s small, but you’ve never needed much space to live. You’ve never had much space to live. This is just fine.

There’s one bunk. Not ideal, but again: you’ve lived in much worse. He told you that you can take shifts sleeping, that way the kid will always have someone up if he needs it.

The way he cares for the kid is… heart-warming. It seems almost strange: a man so big and hulking, capable of causing so much damage, being so gentle with such a helpless creature. It makes you wonder why he’s trusting you, someone he just met, to care for him.

“He have a name?” You ask, looking at him. The kid just stares at you with big eyes and coos, nonsense coming out.

“Uh…no,” Mando replies. “I usually just call him ‘kid.’”

You’re taken aback, but nod nonetheless.

“Alright. ‘Kid’ it is.”

Mando nods and sets the baby down in his hovering crib.

“Do you…need to retrieve anything before we leave?”

You shake your head and fold your hands in front of you.

“Everything I can own I keep on me. I’ve never had the need for more.”

Mando is silent at that and nods.

“Before,” he says after a moment of silence. “You said there was someone you wanted to say goodbye to. Do you—“

“No,” you interrupt a little too sharply. “I mean, no. There’s nobody.”

For a moment, he looks at you, and you wonder how a visor can hold so much emotion. He stares at you like he can see right through you. And maybe he can under that helmet. Either way, it makes you squirm.

You clear your throat.

“So we can, uhm,” you sit down near one of the windows in the cockpit. “We can leave whenever.”

The mandalorian just nods and goes to prepare for take-off.

Later, before the ship makes the jump to hyperspace, you watch as Jakku fades into a sandy dot in space.

You’re struck with the strange feeling the rest of your life is about to begin

[captn-trex]

technical devotion, part eighteen: the search

a/n: late as promised!! this chapter tried to kill me actually, like it held me at knifepoint and everything

warnings: allusions to torture, echo being sad and lowkey a dick at one point

last chapter | next chapter | master list | join the taglist

Echo was sat on a crate at the back of the command room, his head in his hands. He was carefully controlling his breathing, something he found himself doing far too often now. He could hear someone speaking, but it wasn’t until they placed a firm hand on his shoulder that he realised they were speaking to him. His head shot up to see Rex looking down at him worriedly.

“Sorry, what did you say?” He asked, blinking a few times.

“I asked if you’d eaten today” Rex spoke quietly in the somewhat crowded room.

“Yeah, yeah” Echo waved him off, rolling his eyes as he looked away, “I ate earlier”

Rex knew he was lying, but he decided to hold his tongue for now.

“We’re going to discuss the mission now” He told him, “Will you be there?”

“Of course I will” Echo snapped, his expression almost offended.

“Alright” Rex replied, patting his shoulder as he moved away, “Come on then”

Echo lifted himself from the crate, and joined the clones that had gathered in a circle around the central holotable, which included Rex, Gregor, Howzer, Teddy, Oscar and Spider. Anyone and everyone who cared to see Kan returned to them.

“Okay” Rex began with a deep sigh, “We know that she’s no longer in the prison, Echo, Gregor and I made sure of that. Now, we have reason to believe that… this is where she may have been transferred”

He plugged a datastick into the table and an image appeared, a structure.

“I received this schematic from Senator Organa. He is under the impression that this is where the Empire have been sending people that have outwardly rebelled against them”

“Does he know that she’s there?” Howzer asked.

“No, but it’s a best guess” Rex replied, “It’s a very secure facility though. It’s on Corellia so it’s more guarded than one on an unknown planet like the last place. It will be difficult to get into, and you can see here that it’s comprised of two disconnected parts, so if you go in one and she’s in the other, you can’t get through without going out and back in the other one”

“How will we know which one she’s in?” Teddy asked.

“We won’t” Rex sighed, “We’re going to have to just go in one and see if we can find any information and hope we chose the right one, or it’ll be a hell of a lot harder”

“What if-” Spider began, then glanced at Echo before continuing, “What if it goes wrong, and she gets hurt because of us?”

Echo scoffed. She. Not a single one of them could even bring themselves to utter her name.

“There’s not a single mission that is without risk, that’s why we’re in this position in the first place” Echo pointed out, “Now I don’t know about you, but I’d rather try and fail than not try at all. If there’s even a single chance that she’s in there then I’m not even considering not going”

A silence settled over the group, and Echo wanted to scoff again. They all knew how on edge he was, and he knew that they were all waiting for him to break. Kan had been gone for over a month now, and Echo was at his wits end. He had elected to stay in Kan’s bed, but he couldn’t sleep, his mind never failing to remind him of the presence that could be beside him.

Rex took a deep breath before he spoke, “We’re going, that part isn’t up for debate, it’s how we’re going to do it that we need to figure out”

As the clones begun going over the schematics, finding any potential weak points and plotting their way through the prison, Echo couldn’t help but let his mind wander to Kan. It all felt so impersonal, the discussion of such a plan, without much thought, or reference, of the person at the centre of it. Echo was worried about the state they might find Kan in if they did find her at all. She was at the mercy of the Empire, and there was no way she had escaped being harmed in some way.

In a few hours, Rex had cobbled together a plan for infiltrating the prison, and he disbanded the rest of the clones to prepare for the mission. Echo stayed leaning against the table and looking into the building schematic despondently. Rex watched him carefully for a moment before speaking.

“Echo, are you sure you’re up for this?”

Echo’s head snapped up, “What? Yes. Why?”

“Well” Rex sighed, gesturing to him, “You don’t seem to be all here, and it’s not hard to guess why”

Echo scowled, “Oh and I suppose I should leave it up to you right? Because that went so well last time”

Rex crossed his arms, unafraid to call out his brother, “And what the kriff is that supposed to mean?”

“You know what it means” Echo gritted his teeth together, “You promised me she’d be safe, that you’d protect her, and in case you forgot, you failed”

“I’m going to give you the chance to take that back” Rex spoke lowly.

“It’s the truth” Echo claimed, enunciating each syllable with fierce precision.

“Do you really think I don’t know that?” Rex practically growled, “Do you think that I don’t care at all? I know it’s my fault, that I shouldn’t have let it happen, but I did. And now, I’m doing everything in my power to get her back”

Echo was quiet. He glared at his brother and left the room in a huff, striding down the hall towards the safety of Kan’s office. Once the door was shut and locked, Echo stood still and stared down at his feet, letting his eyes well up. A tear escaped and fell onto his boot, the soft leather absorbing it quickly.

Echo didn’t like to cry. It made him feel weak. Though more than that, it made it even harder to stop thinking about what was going on. He was reluctant to feel hopeful about Kan being in the prison, but he mustered up all of the strength within him nonetheless for the eventuality that she could be. He wiped the tears from his face and sniffed quickly, drawing himself to his full height and blowing out a breath.

He turned on his heel, and opened the door back up, making his way towards the landing platform.

Echo kept to himself on the journey there, not that anyone else was feeling particularly chatty. He was determined, and although weary of it, he was becoming more and more hopeful that they would find Kan. Now as they navigated the streets of Corellia, his mind was singularly focused on the mission.

There was a large shipyard located beside the prison, and as they approached, Echo could see new prisoners being escorted inside a large door. That wasn’t their first goal though, they first were going to break into the records room next to it.

The clones slipped behind a patrol of stormtroopers, flattening themselves against the wall in the darkness. A group of stormtroopers that had obviously just finished their shift were still lingering, chatting amongst themselves. Echo tuned into their conversation when he heard something he’d rather he hadn't.

“Did you get a look at that new Mirialan woman?” One of them said to the other, his grin evident through his voice.

”She’s not exactly new, but yeah, I did” Another of them spoke, the same tone filtering their voice.

Teddy placed a hand on Echo’s shoulder. He knew that the conversation was probably driving him up the wall, but he tried to remind him that it wouldn’t serve them well to get into an all-out firefight right now. Echo nodded to him appreciatively, his action grounding him and focusing him back on the mission.

Teddy had been the most supportive while Kan had been gone. He knew that ignoring how worked up Echo was about it wouldn’t do any good, so he tried to comfort him in ways that he could. They weren’t particularly close prior, but Echo appreciated the sentiment nonetheless.

Rex gestured to go around them, and the clones moved out, slipping quietly around crates and ships until they found themselves opposite the records room, and the front door. It was really a pretty inconvenient place for it to be, for them. There didn’t seem to be any guards at the door, but they knew that there was most likely people inside. Rex told the rest of them to wait where they were, and he and echo darted towards the door.

Echo disengaged his cybernetic to twist back the hand attachment, and inserted his scomp into the port, quickly slicing through their encryption to open the door. To their surprise, there was nobody inside. Rex gestured for the rest of them to join them while echo scomped into the port on the inside of the room. He searched all around their system, which included prisoner details for both sides of the facility, but he couldn’t find Kan. There was no record that she had ever been here. He searched over the cells again, and once more, to make sure, but he couldn’t find her. He let out an exasperated huff.

“What is it Echo?” Teddy asked, his eyes darting between Echo and the door.

“She’s not listed under any of the occupied cells, but there’s a block of unnamed cells in the… left side of the prison” He relayed the information.

“Can you find out where?” Howzer questioned.

“One second” Echo continued searching, looking for their whereabouts. “Ok got it” He pulled his scomp from the port, “Let’s go”

Kan didn’t know how long she had been locked in this small cell. The days blurred together, and she was unsure where one ended and the next began. There was no real way to tell anyway, she couldn’t see outside to know the time of day, and the Empire didn’t exactly feed her regular meals.

Her body felt exceedingly weak, and her mind was beginning to feel the same. The officers at the prison had tried to get information out of her, about whatever organisation she was a part of, but she wouldn’t yield. She was tired. Tired of resisting, tired of feeling weak, and tired of thinking about how no one had come to get her.

She knew it wasn’t that easy, there was no way for them to know where she was, but it didn’t stop her thinking that perhaps they weren’t even looking for her. For all her resisting, not giving the Empire any of the information that they wanted, she wondered if the clones had any of the same loyalty to her. She had felt it before, but with her time spent locked away, it was harder to know.

Her thoughts often dwelled on Echo specifically. Why had he not come for her yet? She tried to rationalise, but she was being driven mad by the feeling of being in perpetuity; the sleepless nights, or maybe days, the passing of time not making sense anymore. Sometimes it felt like it wasn’t passing at all, like she was just going to be forever in limbo.

Kan heard a commotion outside in the corridor, and lifted her head to peer through the ray shielded arch. It sounded like a fight had broken out, and she frowned, but her heartrate picked up a little at the same time. Had someone finally come for her? She shifted and placed her feet on the floor, her hands resting against the edge of the bench she sat on. The noise of the fight drew closer, and she waited with bated breath as they approached her cell.

A guard was knocked to the floor, laid out on the floor outside the ray shield, and Kan’s heart leapt to her throat, though the next moment it plummeted straight down to her feet. Another guard threw themself down on top of the other and started punching the other, another two appearing to try and pull him off.

Kan sighed deeply, folding in on herself and holding her knees to her chest. She didn’t want to cry, but it was hard to stop herself.

They hadn’t come for her. Perhaps they never would.

She wasn’t there. Kan was still gone.

Echo couldn’t cope. He had kept quiet the entire journey back, but when they got back to base he had immediately taken himself back to the safety of Kan’s office. He didn’t know what to do with himself. He couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that Kan was most likely alone and afraid.

He tried not to blame himself, he really did, but it was getting harder not to. He didn’t really blame Rex, even if he had lashed out at him for it. Before he had truly dwelled on that fact, his feet were carrying him to the command room. When he opened the door, he found Rex in the position he had been before the mission, defeated and sat on a crate at the back of the room.

Echo called his name in a quiet voice, and Rex’s head snapped up.

“What?” He asked, rubbing a hand over his face. He was clearly tired.

Echo sat beside him, taking a deep breath before speaking, “I’m sorry”

“For what?”

“It wasn’t your fault” Echo said earnestly, turning to look at his brother, “No one is to blame but them Empire”

Rex stayed quiet.

“I shouldn’t have said what I did, I was just…” Echo couldn’t find the word.

”Upset? Frustrated? Angry?” Rex asked with a slight twinge of amusement.

Echo huffed a laugh, “Yeah”

The pair were quiet for a moment. There wasn’t anything either of them could say that would make the other feel better.

“I’m sorry too” Rex sighed.

“For what?” Echo frowned.

“That sh-” Rex stopped himself, “That Kan was taken, that she’s not here. I know how much you care for her, I can’t even imagine how you must be feeling”

Echo looked to his twitching hands. It made him slightly uncomfortable to have that observation made about him, but he knew that Rex meant well, that he was only trying to comfort him or just have a conversation, something they hadn’t really taken part in in weeks.

“What if we can’t find her?” Echo looked back up at Rex, who blew out a long breath at his broken expression.

“We’ll find her Echo, we will” Rex assured him.

“But how can we? There’s no way to know where she is, and what if they-” Echo gulped, “What if they hurt her, like- What if they… kill he-”

“No. Don’t think like that. We’re going to find her”

“But- Even so, I- We might never see her again” Echo could feel tears brimming in his eyes, “I- I never got to tell her-”

Rex placed his arm around him and pulled him into his side, “I know. I know brother”

[inyri]

Not sure if the prompt list you reblogged was a request for prompts but if yes, consider "❛ let’s just stay here. grow old. ❜ for someone else but Nine and Theorn and/or ❛ i didn’t ask to get made. ❜ for a character of your choice.

(As requested, this is not Nine and Theron.

SWTOR. Nine and Hunter, at the end of it all. TW: violence and its aftermath.)

“That’s probably going to scar.” Hunter looks up at her, shakes her- her, even half-dead there was always one more way to fuck with her, wasn’t there?- head with a crooked half-smile. “They’ll take it away, though, won’t they? They always do.”

Blood streams down her cheek and pools at the corner of her mouth. It’d been a lucky shot, Hunter’s knife swinging wide when she’d blocked a strike that might otherwise have hit a gap between armor plates; it’d been even luckier that it missed her eye. That would have figured. The others always noticed, before, when the cuts reached her face. “I might keep it. I’m tired of having things taken from me.”

“You and me both, Cipher Nine.” She can hear the wheeze buried in Hunter’s laugh. That last hit got her lung after all, then. Good. “You and me both.”

She licks her lips, then spits onto the floor. Their blood’s all over the room already- what’s a little more? 

(Hunter had dreamed about it, she’d said, dreamed about tearing each other apart.   

She’d dreamed of it too: every shot, every slash, every fistfall a box ticked off a list that went all the way back to Nar Shaddaa, to Taris and Hoth and Quesh, every pull at her leash and every notch her collar tightened and every time, every time, every time-

Let it go, the Minister had said. Let it go, Cipher. You’re free now.

She still dreams of Hunter. Perhaps she always will.)

“We could just stay here, you know. You and me. Patch each other up. Keep the codex.” Hunter’s leaning forward now, braced on her hands, lips blueing with every word. “Grow old. They took everything from us. We deserve to win just once, don’t we?”

There’s a kolto syringe in her belt pouch. She could-

Nine’s hand spasms, fingers splayed wide and disobedient as her nerves misfire, and she thinks of Corellia, of the burns and the breaks and the shocks and her screams and of Hunter’s voice in her ear, and she lets her arm drop to her side and does not answer.

“Tell me one thing, then.” Her eyes are the same as she remembers. “Your name. The name your parents called you, the name they took from you- oh, come on-” another cough, this one bloody, veins cording in her neck. “Who’m I going to tell? I just- I just want to know.” 

She sheathes her blade, rubs at her cheek with the back of her hand. Her arm’s bleeding too, and her lower back and her right thigh, but that will keep until they get back to the ship. “My name is Cipher Nine. What’s taken is gone. That girl no longer exists.”

“Me, too,” Hunter whispers. “Me, too. You and me, Cipher. We played the game right.”

“Don’t ever-” with the pistol barrel pressed against her forehead the shot barely echoes, and Hunter’s last gasping breath goes out of her as Nine whispers back- “compare yourself to me.”

[jedimandalorian]

Ahsoka- Notes on Episode 2 and Kiner’s musical score made by a Sabezra shipper. (You’ve been warned.)

Ahsoka hears voices. She seems to be hearing Sabine’s dream. Sabine is dreaming of Ezra once again. A fragmented rendition of Ezra’s theme can be heard very briefly along with the voices in the dream, but the music is mostly mysterious and unrelated to any other character’s theme.

Baylan & Shin at the stone circle. The end of this track reminds me of purrgil song. I didn’t see them until someone pointed them out in this screenshot.

Lothal tower. Ahsoka hears voices from the past (Sabine vs. Shin fight). Ahsoka’s theme (fragment). Flute plays during loth-cat’s appearance.

Ahsoka inside the tower scene: Music from the Clone Wars is heard. [Edit: It’s from Rebels.] A quiet quotation of Ezra’s Theme is played by the cello when his hologram is activated. Ahsoka destroys assassin droid.

Hospital scene with Sabine trying to recover the droid’s memory. “It’s now or never” is a line that Sabine says that was spoken by both Ezra and Sabine in Rebels. Hera’s Theme can be heard when she tells Sabine “You did good.”

Morgan arrives at the stone circle. Morgan opens the star map for Baylan & Shin. Mostly new musical material here. Thrawn’s theme is heard when Morgan mentions him. There is purrgil imagery in this scene and the first mention of the Eye of Sion. Sinister and mysterious music is used here with a big crescendo to end the scene.

Ahsoka arrives on Corellia. Incidental music here does not use familiar themes until Hera asks Ahsoka to teach Sabine again. The music here is based on Ahsoka’s Theme until Hera asks that question.

Sabine & Huyang and the lightsaber. Sabine says it is “Ezra’s lightsaber.” Huyang says it is hers now. No music during most of the conversation. Sabine says she does not have the talent “like Ezra.” We finally hear Sabine’s Theme when Huyang says “The only time you are wasting is your own.”

Hera & Ahsoka on Corellia. Incidental music doesn’t make use of familiar themes until we hear the first three notes of Ahsoka’s Theme when she leaps out of the window. Fight with Inquisitor and droid. Hera & Chopper in pursuit of stolen SSD hyperdrive. Action sequences have new incidental music.

Sabine returns to the tower. Sabine’s Theme is heard as she lays out her armor. After she cuts her hair the first two notes of Ezra’s Theme crescendo as the scene changes.

Hera, Chopper, & Ahsoka on Corellia. Ahsoka gets a holo from Sabine saying that she’s ready. This is new incidental music until Hera’s theme is heard as she watches Ahsoka’s ship leaving at the end of the scene.

Sabine at the mural. This is new music until Sabine walks toward Ahsoka. A subtle rendition of Ezra’s theme is heard here. From NLB’s acting and the music we know she’s going on this quest because of Ezra. ❤️

Ahsoka & Sabine depart. Segue to the Eye of Sion under construction. Morgan mentions Thrawn and his theme is quoted briefly under her dialogue. The other music used is new.

End credits music: Intro, Sabine’s Theme, Ahsoka’s Theme, Hera’s Theme, and a reprise of Ahsoka’s Theme.

When they find Ezra and Thrawn I hope we hear more of their themes used with the end credits. I loved how Kiner sometimes changed the end credits Music for Rebels to fit with the mood of the episode. I hope he will do that in this series too.

Bonus: a new arrangement of the End Titles Music.

[shangchiswife]

din djarin- knight in shining beskar (part 1)

hi guys this is part 1 to my new series inspired by tangled! right now there won't be any smut until later parts and when there is I'll add a warning. hope you guys enjoy!

asiya

....

summary: you were the princess of Corellia until a group of criminals infiltrated the kingdom and forced you to run away to Naboo where you have lived for sixteen years without going outside. din djarin is assigned the task of retrieving you as bounty for that group of criminals.

din djarin x fem!reader

warnings: cursing, death

word count: 3203

....

You awoke with a jolt, a shiver running down your spine from the nightmare you just had.

Your face was slick with sweat and your chest heaved.

You switched on the lamp next to you and swung your feet off your bed, out of breath.

You started towards the giant window at the center of the room and swung the doors apart, allowing a breeze to enter the tower you were more or less trapped in.

….

At a young age, you had lived a very privileged and lavish life as a princess on the planet Corellia. You were very close with your family and had been given so much love from them.

That was before forces of bandits and pirates entered your home planet and started terrorizing innocents and vandalizing Corellian monuments.

One day, these attacks escalated further and the criminals infiltrated the castle. 

Your family had taken shelter in the palace’s heart: the throne room.

You remembered the way your mother had squeezed you close to her while your father held a gun to his heart, holding his wife's hand.  

Your father’s guards had their guns aimed at the large stone doors of the throne room.

The bandits banged on the door trying to urge it open.

Your heart pounded as the entrance started to nudge open.

Your mother pressed a long kiss to your forehead as you started to feel her wet tears slip down her cheeks, dripping onto your face.

The doors opened with a bang, the sound of gunshots filling the air.

Your mother turned your head away from the violence while she watched with horror as the King’s knights fell with brutal wounds.

You peeked through her fingers and watched as the crooks (who had caused problems for the entire kingdom) entered the throne room with an Abyssin with dark regal robes at the front, a smirk plastered on his green face.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” the Abyssin offered your father a wicked grin before turning to you and your mother.

“If you touch either of them I will shoot you, Astrin,” your father growled angrily as he aimed his gun at the cyclops, causing him to chuckle.

“Such powerful words coming from someone who is so outnumbered,” he approached closer and closer to you.

Your father’s face contorted with anger as he gripped the weapon in a manner that made his knuckles turn ghostly white.

“My, my, what a pretty woman you have,” he complimented your mother who turned her head away from the creature in disgust.

The Abyssin crouched down in front of the two of you and gripped your mother’s chin roughly, pulling her attention back to him.

“When I’m talking to you, you address me with respect,” Astrin growled, her eyes widening at his action.

“Get your hands off my wife, you dirty pirate!” your father screamed with rage as he cocked his gun.

The green man in front of you looked at his men as they started towards the Corellian King who aimed his weapon wildly at the approaching men.

You watched with fear as you shared a look with your father before he pulled the trigger,shooting all of the criminals around him.

The Abyssin’s men collapsed on the ground from your father’s powerful shots.

Your father had a fierce look that you’d rarely seen, a look that was only reserved for protecting his family.

With one quick motion, the Abyssin leader pulled out a revolver and shot your father straight in the head.

You watched in horror as he fell onto the floor almost immediately, blood pooling around his head.

Your mother let out a gut-wrenching scream before she stood up and charged toward the Abyssin who looked her up and down before shooting her.

Your lip trembled as you watched both of your parent’s bloodied bodies.

Your mother’s eyes, once filled with mirth and care, were now lifeless. Your father, who used to carry you over his shoulder to watch the fireworks and lanterns when there were festivals and would carry your mother as if she weighed nothing into the gardens, was now the weakest you’ve ever seen him.

Tears leaked from your horrified eyes as you couldn’t look away from your dead parents.

“And now, for the dear darling princess,” Astrin simpered as he bent down to your level.

“Poor little princess…her whole family is dead,” he said in an unforgiving tone as the men that surrounded him laughed.

You said nothing, lifting your eyes up to shoot him a nasty glare as hot tears streamed down your face.

He tutted as he locked eyes with you.

“Now, what are we going to do to you…hmm…you’re young so we’ll play a game you’ll surely enjoy. Hide and seek! You’ll have thirty minutes to run and hide and then we’ll seek you out and when we do, we’ll kill you,” the green cyclops had a sinister look on his face that made your heart pound hard in your chest.

“Now, run along, the time starts now unless you want to get killed,” he grinned.

You immediately stood up, holding the skirt of your gown, and ran. You ran as fast as you could out of the palace.

Tears blurred your vision as you replayed the moments of your parents dying in front of you in your mind.

You were frozen in place. You did nothing to stop them from getting killed.

You were only seven but you still could’ve done something.

Your heart pounded fast as you ran through the streets of Corellia. Past the once-green gardens that were now burnt to a crisp. Past the city market that was once bustling with bubbly customers but was now deserted. And finally past the once lit-up homes that were now dark.

What had these criminals done to your city? What had they done to your home?

Suddenly, you felt yourself being pulled into a home.

Your screams were muffled by a large callused hand.

You were flipped so that you were face-to-face with your captor.

He was a man around your father’s age and had dark curly locks on top of his head, a patchy beard, and steel gray eyes.

“Look,” he whispered as he pointed to a window where you saw a sea of bandits running on the streets.

Your heart sunk.

They had lied.

“Please don’t scream. I’m not going to kill you,” the man took his hand off of your mouth and stared at you as you continued to watch the men on the streets.

“He told me that he was going to wait thirty minutes and then chase me,” you whispered.

“It’s no surprise that they lied, they work with the Sith,” the man ran a hand through his hair frustratedly as your eyes widened.

“I thought the Sith were a myth?” you questioned.

“We told all of you children that it was just a fairytale so that you’d all get proper sleep but that clearly isn’t the case,” the man said as you regarded him with suspicion.

“Who even are you?”

“I’m a friend of your father’s,” he had noticed your wariness and watched as your shoulders relaxed.

“He’s never mentioned you before,” you said softly, looking at the floor.

“That’s the way it was meant to be. Your father knew that the Aero gang would infiltrate the palace one day and wanted a person outside to be able to help you all so I had to keep it a secret,”

You said nothing, kicking at the floor.

“Alright…well today you can stay here at the house but tomorrow I will be taking you someplace else where you’ll be living…your father has a tower in Naboo for you,” the man cleared his throat.

You remembered a year before when your family had stayed in that tower during a business trip for your father.

“How long will I be living there?” your voice was small.

“Until things become better on Corellia,” his answer was firm as you opened your mouth to say something, but couldn’t say anything.

How long was that truly going to be? 

Yes, you were young but you also weren’t stupid to how powerful the Aero gang was. You had sometimes heard your parents frantically discussing them in hushed whispers, fear written on their faces.

You must’ve had a scared look on your face because the man crouched down at your level.

“Your new living quarters are nice and if you ever need anything, I will always be there for you. I made a promise to your father and I intend to keep it,” his dark eyes bore into yours as you felt tears threatening to spill from your waterline.

“What is your name?” you gulped.

“Glenn,” he answered as you wrapped your hands around his neck.

“Thank you, Glenn,” your voice wavered as your grief of losing your family, home, and planet overcame you and a stream of tears raced down your cheeks.

The dark-haired man rubbed your back gently allowing you some comfort.

“It’ll be alright, princess, it’ll be alright, I promise,” 

….

Glenn had made that promise sixteen years ago and nothing had changed on your planet according to him and the local newspapers he gave you.

You had followed all of his strict rules of not leaving your tower, not making any noise, and not interacting with a single soul, despite Nabooians being some of the kindest people you had ever met.

Glenn had become a guardian for you and you loved him dearly for all the care and affection he showered you with, but you wanted to see the outside world and return to your home planet.

You dreamt of touching the green blades of grass, the feeling of the turquoise sea against your bare legs, and most of all talking to real people.

Despite your excitement, you were also filled with a sense of apprehension. You had never traveled alone before, and the thought of venturing into the unknown was both thrilling and scary, especially with the Aero gang still searching for you.

Regardless of your fear, you were ready to embrace the unknown of the new Corellia. You wanted to lead your people against the harsh gang. You longed for revenge against them after they ruined your childhood and killed your parents mercilessly in front of you. 

You especially wanted to see Astrin and murder him in cold blood.

At the thought of Astrin, you felt your hands clench into tight fists.

You pushed your thoughts of him aside and stared out the window, gazing at the sun that began to rise slowly over the horizon, casting a soft golden glow across the sky. The first rays of light illuminated the sky, painting it in shades of pink, orange, and red. As the sun continued to rise, the colors intensified, creating a breathtaking display of natural beauty. 

Birds from shades of red and blue chirped and sang as they flitted from tree to tree, welcoming the new day with joyful melodies. The air was fresh and cool, and a gentle breeze rustled through the leaves, carrying with it the sweet scent of blooming flowers.

As the sun rose higher in the sky, its warm rays began to spread across the land, bringing life and energy to everything it touched. The fields and meadows shimmered with dew, and the trees and plants stretched toward the light.

In the distance, you could hear the sound of waves crashing against the golden sands you used to run along as a child.

You let out a deep breath, inhaling the fresh scent before making your way back into the tower and starting your day.

….

Din Djarin had never been offered such a high amount of credits before in his lifetime. He didn’t know whether to be surprised or not, considering that he was taking a deal from the king of Corellia.

“So will you take the job?” the Abyssin in front of him asked, arching his eyebrow.

The green baby in his lap cooed at the cyclop’s words as he looked up at his father’s shiny helmet.

Din pat Grogu’s wrinkly head once before shaking the king’s hand.

“You have a deal,”

“Excellent, well then, Mandalorian, I hope you are as good as they say because if not, I’m afraid I will have to execute you,” King Astrin smirked as the man nodded in response without a sign of hesitation or fear.

Din always got his bounties. This was known to everyone he has ever worked for. He was always good at what he did.

“This princess of yours shouldn’t be too hard to find, your majesty,” Din stated, scooping Grogu in his arms and standing up.

The baby giggled at the action.

“Alright then, good luck,” the king said as the Mandalorian bowed his head and turned to exit the polished throne room.

“You’ll need it,”

….

You had just finished making your dinner which was a bowl of Hazelnut soup with a side of stale bread and sat at your tiny circular dinner table that was specifically designed for one person.

You ate in silence the way you always did.

Sometimes Glenn would join you but it was different now that he had a family.

They would never know about you and you would never meet them for their own safety.

You sighed as you took your empty bowl and went to the kitchen.

While you scrubbed your bowl in the sink, you looked outside at the big night sky that was littered with bright white stars. The night had always been a comfort to you even when you were younger. They had helped you through the loss of your parents who always used to show you them on particularly dark nights like these.

You hummed to yourself before you heard a loud crash, making your heart stop.

You frantically grabbed the knife that sat at the edge of the kitchen counter and held it up defensively.

“Maybe it’s just a bird,” you whispered, walking around your tower cautiously.

Suddenly your waist was grabbed and you were spun around.

You screamed as you used one of your legs to kick your captor in the stomach.

Your captor stumbled back as you turned to face them.

Your jaw dropped as you found yourself face to face with a Mandalorian.

“Who are you and what are you doing in my tower,” you pushed him against one of the walls of the tower and pressed your knife against his helmet.

“If you’re part of the Aero gang I swear to God I will-”

You were interrupted by the sound of cooing.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked down at the Mandalorian’s satchel where a tiny green head poked out.

The creature looked up and offered you a toothy grin which made you drop your weapon.

“I’m not,” the Mandalorian’s voice was deep which made you snap your gaze up and lock eyes with his helmet.

“Then who are you and how did you get inside?” you demanded, widening your eyes to make you look more intimidating.

The Mandalorian sighed.

“I’m a friend of Glenn’s, he sent me to get you and take you back to Corellia,” he lied, using the words that Astrin had told him to use.

You hadn’t interacted with anyone besides Glenn in years so you instantly believed every word he said.

“Really? It’s gotten better?” you cocked your head to the side.

“There’s been more resistance from the public…Glenn believes that if you go over there then you can overtake the Aeros,” the armored man cleared his throat.

You smiled at the thought of going back to your planet and saving the Corellian people whom you so desperately missed.

You wanted to go home. And you wanted to do it now. 

“Alright then, let’s do it,” you said, offering your hand out for the Beskar-covered man to take.

After a beat the Mandalorian shook your hand, a twinge of guilt filling his body as he watched you offer an innocent smile.

“Let’s go then,” you grinned as the Mandalorian tucked his squealing child back in his satchel and motioned for you to come behind him.

He walked over to your large window and stepped off it.

You hesitated for a moment as you watched the man in front of you swing his legs off the edge.

“C’mon we need to hurry,” he said, a prick of annoyance present in his voice.

“I-It’s just that I haven’t been outside in sixteen years,” you blurted out as you picked at your nail nervously, as you walked over to him and sat beside him at the edge of the tower.

Din didn’t know what to say quite frankly.

None of his bounties had ever been comfortable around him.

Heck, you’d barely even known him for ten minutes and you were already sitting next to him like you were friends and not bounty and bounty hunter.

“Well if you want to save your planet then there’s only one way to go,” he angled his helmet to you in acknowledgment as you nodded.

“You’re right,” you said.

The tiny green baby poked his head out and babbled as if they were words of encouragement.

You offered a gentle smile at the brown-eyed baby before taking a deep breath.

You didn’t say another word as you started climbing down your tower, holding onto the bricks as if your life depended on it which it did.

The Mandalorian followed shortly after.

The moment you reached the bottom your bare feet brushed against the grass making you gasp with delight as you curled your toes around it.

You giggled as you started to walk into the darkness enjoying the feeling of the green blades tickling your feet.

Din watched you with confusion before he turned on a flashlight illuminating your surroundings with a yellowish glow.

“Come on,” he urged as you nodded your head, snapping out of your blissful daze.

You continued walking until a large ship was in view.

“Woah nice ship,” you complimented as the Mandalorian said nothing, and pressed a code onto the side of the vessel allowing for an entrance to open for you.

You entered the ship and looked around.

It was spacious. More than enough room for the Mandalorian and his child.

You walked into the large cockpit and were shocked by the number of multicolored buttons and joysticks there.

“Don’t touch anything,” the Mandalorian said before he sat in the pilot’s chair.

“I wasn’t going to,” you muttered before taking a seat beside his in the co-pilot’s chair, spinning it once.

The baby crawled out of the man’s satchel and hit the floor with a loud bang.

“Ouch,” you winced as you bent down and helped the little fella up.

“You okay, kid?” the Mandalorian questioned the brown-eyed baby who looked up at the two of you and gave you a smile.

The man in the Beskar started pushing lots of buttons, urging the ship into the night sky.

“Alright let’s go get those sons of bitches,” 

[hurricanek8art]

Okay, so, um... Hi? So, I've been a lurker on Tumblr for a while, including the SWTOR tag, because I've got major social anxiety. Recently, I think I've finally worked up the courage to interact, which is great! Especially now, because I think I need advice about the game and don't really know where else to ask! Other social media sites scare me and I'm not currently a subscriber, so I can't access the SWTOR forums. :P

I've just finished Corellia on my Jedi Knight. She's technically my main, even though I already finished the class storylines for Consular and Smuggler. I got burnout on doing the planetary missions and side quests around Balmorra (I'm a huge goody-two-shoes, so I was doing almost every quest I came across) so I figured, hey, I'll just focus on the story for a while and come back to it another time! Except now I feel kinda bad for skipping them because my Knight's leveled at 53, when my other two finished their class stories around 60/65. I know over-leveling's pointless, but at the speed I take getting through stuff, they'll have to have raised the level cap again by the time I catch up. 🤣

Should I go back and do them before finishing the class story? I know it's pretty harmless to skip them but I dunno, I want to do as much as I can with my Knight so I haven't missed out on anything. My brother plays too, we share an account, but his philosophy is skip absolutely everything that's not important unless he's underleveled, so obviously we have differing opinions on the subject. 🤣🤣🤣 Can some more experienced players give me some advice? I'm paralyzed with indecision, help me Obi-Wan Kenobi, etc., etc., you get the gist.

Unnecessarily adding pictures of my Knight because she is awesome and I love her to pieces and I only really get to talk about her with my brother. I'm a writer/artist and I've got loads of stuff I've created about her and my other legacy characters but. y'know. extreme social anxiety says no sharing yet. You guys make such cool stuff and I'm a huge chicken, but I'm working on getting over that, so maybe someday I can actually tell their stories!

[im-poe-dameron]

CELESTIAL SERENITIES

➔CLONE WARS ARC #03: UNTIL WE MEET AGAIN

a/n: so one year later and i'm finally back writing for this fic. only this time i actually have quite a lot of time to finish it and work consistently on it. to anyone who still finds this fic interesting, thank you for sticking around. i hope you enjoy what's to come. this is pretty much the final part to the clone wars arc, but i have an interlude planned. so that will come next. for now enjoy an angst filled chapter!

summary: in the final moments of your farewell, you both finally admit the truth.

word count: 7.4k+

pairing: obi-wan kenobi x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, angst so much angst, fluff, mentions of death, injury, soft sex, tad bit of body worship, p in v sex, cussing, goodbyes.

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“Look after Obi-Wan. He’ll need you now more than ever.”

Darkness felt unnerving when you didn’t know where you were. Whatever surrounded you felt safe—as if you could sink into it—yet something was off. You didn’t know this place, didn’t know why you were here. However, the voice that continued to speak to you calmed the panic in your veins; it was familiar to you—whoever he was. Shifting, you tried to turn to the left but something held you back. No matter how much you struggled against whatever kept you in place, you still couldn’t move.

“Hello?” you called out, your heart rate fluctuating the longer you remained here.

Wherever here was.

“It’s been a long time youngling.”

You stiffened, eyes darting around in the darkness until you could visibly see a small outline of light making the shape of a person. But this wasn’t just any simple person—this was someone who you didn’t believe it possible to see again. Qui-Gon Jinn stepped closer, a smile on his face as he regarded you with a look you’d seen before. One he gave to you when you managed to drag his padawan into trouble. The sight brought a sting of tears to your eyes; a memory flashing in your mind as you recalled the times when you’d been blissfully happy.

“Hi,” you whispered.

His hand reached out, gripping yours and pulling you to your feet—the capability to move suddenly back. “My you’ve grown.”

“The last time I saw you I was only twenty.” You smiled, following him as he began to walk forward. “Actually the last time I saw you, you and Obi-Wan were heading to…Naboo.”

The topic of his death only came up once before when Obi-Wan had made a trip back to your home world, utterly devastated as he shared the news of his master’s fate. That had been your last night together—the last time you saw him—and in a way it came naturally. As if the both of you had to part ways in order to find yourselves amidst the galaxy’s hardships and downfalls. You were both lost in a way until you found one another again.

Qui-Gon nodded, glancing at you for a brief moment. “I know what you are to him.”

“You do?”

“I’ve always known.”

A flash of trepidation filled your body. “Then why did you let it go on for so long?”

“Obi-Wan needed to find his own way back to the Force. Unlike what people believe, it is not the masters who tell them what to do. We simply guide them the best way we know how.” He stopped, turning to face you.

“I thought Jedi aren’t supposed to form attachments with people they love,” you whispered.

“They aren’t. Attachment leads to necessity which then leads to possession and a Jedi must only rely on themselves, but it seems in his case…he is unable to survive without you.”

He knew the entire time he resided on Corellia with the both of you. He knew the moment Obi-Wan met you that you’d remain in his life until he breathed his final breath. You wanted to ask him how he found out, ask him all the questions you never got to, but you felt a sharp pain shoot down your body—forcing you down to one knee. The tightening in your chest stunted your breathing for a moment and you gasped to fight against it. Qui-Gon merely helped you back up, his hands resting on your shoulders.

“I can’t—” you gasped, eyes screwing shut as darkness enveloped you once more.

“Do you care for him?”

The answer should have been simple. A quick yes or no, but just as they had before—the words lodged themselves in your throat, because they were too simple. Saying you loved him wasn’t good enough. Three words couldn’t possibly define the way you were unable to breathe without him. It wouldn’t be able to put into perspective how your body physically ached when you were apart; how you spent every day thinking about him and wondering if he did the same.

Love was complicated, but the word was too simple to describe a lifetime of heartbreak. All leading to one final decision.

Whether or not you’d remain with him in the end.

“Yes,” you breathed, tears falling down your cheeks. “I love him.”

“Then protect him,” he replied. “He will need you.”

“What if I can’t?”

“You have more strength than you know. Don’t forget that.”

You watched as he slowly began to fade back into the darkness, his lips turning up into a small smile. One last goodbye before you continued on a journey you might not make it back from. A final farewell in the hopes that he’d continue to watch over you in every way possible.

You weren’t a Jedi, you didn’t possess the power to look into the Force, but you had this—a small moment in a place beyond death. Beyond life itself. So, you smiled back, tears still falling as you were encased in the cold hands of death, awaiting your fate.

The echo of your name filled your head, pain seeping back into your body as a flash of light overtook your senses. Gasping, you attempted to sit up, but every visceral agonizing moment hit you like a starship going into hyperspace and you were leaning over the side of the bed. Coughing, you saw a small splatter of red land on the floor as someone’s voice continued to call your name. Only it wasn’t your true name—no this was the one he solely reserved for you.

“Astra?” he asked, panic practically dripping from his very being.

You groaned in response, clutching at your side as he slowly turned you back into the softness of a medical bay bed. The armor you wore was piled in the corner of the room, your blaster atop it all, and instead you were draped in beige robes. They weren’t yours you knew that for a fact. The clothes you wore beneath your armor were black, but then his scent wafted up to your nose—burning through your senses and reminding you of where you were.

Fluttering your eyes open, your vision came in watery as tears streamed down your face, but the sight of him was enough. You could finally breathe after so long being suffocated down in the darkness—your home standing beside you.

“Obi-Wan,” you murmured, feeling his hand squeeze yours as he sat on the edge of the bed.

The worry in his expression was evident, his eyes clouded with a pain you’d seen him wear before. The night his master died. Obi-Wan never handled grief well even though he liked to appear as strong as he possibly could be. Always the epitome of perfection among the Jedi. Only you saw the weariness in his face, the anguish lacing his tone as he spoke your name one more time. He couldn’t believe you were alive and that alone gave him some time to finally rest; to remind himself that while he was a Jedi there were far more important things in life.

“You were dead,” he said softly, brushing your hair back from your sweat covered forehead. “Your heart stopped.”

That would explain the darkness.

“I’m sorry.”

He smiled, the newer fresh lines in his face now showing slightly. “You don’t have to apologize for being dead dewdrop.”

“I should if it made you this worried,” you rasped, wincing when the pain returned to your side.

“They gave you a bacta shot, but until we get back to Coruscant there isn’t much they can do here.” He helped you sit up slowly, watching as you bit back a cry of pain. “I told Anakin he should have left you to me.”

“Can you blame him?” Grasping his hand, you held it in your lap. “He thought I was trying to kill you, Obi-Wan. I would have done the same thing.”

“You still died—”

“And came back.” You cupped his face gently, feeling his beard scratched the skin of your hands. “I’m right here Obi-Wan,” you breathed, forehead pressing against his.

“I thought…I thought I lost you.”

Pain twined around his soul so prominently that there wasn’t a moment you could not see it. How it affected every aspect of his being, his movements and words. For the first time in a long time, he allowed himself to truly feel the fear he kept hidden away and it was brutal. Jedi don’t fear anything. That fact became more of a rule than anything else. Yet in the end it left them vulnerable to the pain—broke them even further because they did whatever it took to push down that fear. Watching your heart give up brought that fear back; shoved it down his throat until he couldn’t ignore it anymore.

Pain was a part of a Jedi’s life—this you knew.

“You didn’t,” you breathed, leaning heavily against him. Your body felt worn down, which wasn’t unusual given the current circumstances of your predicament.

Dying and coming back to life. That thought alone left your body feeling cold—the icy sensations of death still running through your veins. Qui-Gon’s words continued to echo in your mind. A reminder of what your life would amount to once you returned. Protecting the person you loved and as you looked at him—the glossy look of unshed tears in his eyes—you realized just how right he’d been. Obi-Wan needed you. More than you knew.

“Where’s Anakin now?”

His eyebrows furrowed. “I sent him to watch over Senator Amidala.”

“Hm.” You brought his hand into your lap, tracing over the cuts and scrapes he acquired on Geonosis. “He’s in love with her, you know.”

Obi-Wan’s familiar sigh made you smile. “I know.”

“I saw the way they were on the battlefield. He would have died for her.” Not unlike how you felt about him—how you hoped he felt about you.

“He’s too young to know what love really is.”

You snorted, eyes dragging back to him. “Look who’s talking Kenobi.”

“That was…different.” He fought against the urge to smile, his lips twitching slightly at the memories that flooded both your minds. “We were different.”

“No we weren’t Obi-Wan. You just like to pretend you were a perfect padawan. When in reality Qui-Gon sighed twice as much as you do now when talking about Anakin.”

He relented, unable to fight against the smile any longer as he pressed his lips to your temple. This. Moments like this were what you both fought for yesterday—a chance to be at ease with one another again. Just as you once did before. This wouldn’t last. He knew that as well as you, but stolen time is what you built the basis of your relationship on. It became what you both feared, what you both needed to survive. You were each standing on either side of the blade, trying to meet in the middle without injury.

Thus was the brutality of love.

“I saw him again,” you murmured. If you closed your eyes you’d be able to picture his face—a man stuck in time and yet still present.

Obi-Wan hummed in response, head leaning against yours. “Who did you see?”

“Qui-Gon.”

That was enough to render a response from him. Pulling back he regarded you with a look of incredulity—as if your words weren’t even said in the first place. You couldn’t blame him for that. If you heard someone who possessed no connection to the Force whatsoever, claim that they saw the Force ghost of a Jedi Master, you’d think they were lying. Either that or insane. But you couldn’t lie to him anymore; refused to tell him anything but the truth, because your duty to the Republic nearly cost both your lives. That was something you could not forgive nor forget.

“I know– I sound– Well I sound ridiculous.” You felt the weight of Qui-Gon’s message weigh on your shoulders—your body curing inward with it. “I swear it was him.”

“How?” And there it was. The reason why you loved him. Obi-Wan didn’t question your sanity, didn’t claim you were lying, he simply believed. He put faith in you the same way he would the Force, because if there was anyone in his life he trusted…it was you.

It would always be you.

So you told him everything, sparing no details. You explained about the feelings you harbored when you woke up in that place; the fear that you were already beyond anyone’s help. Even going so far as to tell him Qui-Gon’s message and that…he knew about the relationship you two held. You told him all of this for one reason alone. Obi-Wan would be the only one to believe you; to truly trust your word as if it were his own.

Just as the pain was, you too were twined around his soul—so tight that pulling away now felt like agony.

“So you really did die,” he whispered, glancing down at your joined hands. “I knew it happened, but knowing you ended up somewhere.”

“I wasn’t entirely afraid,” you said in the hopes of reassuring him. “Qui-Gon was there and I can’t explain why, but I felt like…like everything was okay.”

“He guided you back.”

Obi-Wan glanced at you, the pain seeping to the far recesses of his mind once more. You’d see it again—you knew that now—but for now he could relish in the chance of seeing you alive. Qui-Gon guided you back to his life to protect him. Except the difference was, you were both protecting each other from the painful reality that awaited you. 

The war on Geonosis was only the beginning of something even larger than you and him—simply a piece of a puzzle that had yet to be formed. He would be called away—just as you would—to fight and once more goodbye would be simply another thing you had to endure.

An inevitable ending to your half finished story.

“He said you needed me, but I don’t think that’s true,” you said softly. “I need you Obi-Wan. I always have.”

“Dewdrop.” He gripped your chin with two fingers, turning you to face him. “You have no idea just how much I need you. It’s not possible to put into words.”

“Then don't.”

Reaching up, you twisted your fingers into his hair and pulled him down to you. His lips slotting over yours with ease—fitting together perfectly once more. He inhaled sharply, hand cupping your face to tilt your head slightly as he licked softly against your bottom lip. Kissing him was akin to going outside and breathing fresh air for the first time in months. It was as if you finally found the other half of you that hid in the crevices of your mind—too far to reach. You wanted to kiss him all the time, whenever you possibly could.

Opening your mouth, you pushed back with enough fervor, causing a shiver to wrack his body—the wet warmth of his tongue against yours bringing back the ache you so desperately yearned for. While the other night was full of passion—borderline feral need—this was soft, tender enough to twist your heart. He didn’t kiss you to have you, because you were already his. In every way a person could be.

Tugging on him, you moaned into his mouth, tightly gripping his hair to keep his lips against yours. In return he bit down on your bottom lip, sucking it slowly into his mouth. He tasted like anguish doused in a sweetness that could only come from him. And you took it. You took until he had nothing left to give; drowning in the way he sounded, smelled, and even in the way he looked. His hair was longer than it ever had been and you couldn’t deny that it became a part of the appeal.

“I can’t,” he whispered, pulling away slightly, his lips still brushing against yours that were shiny with his spit. “You’re injured.”

You smiled, eyes in a dreamy haze of lust and love. “We both know that’s not the reason I’ll scream.”

“Dewdrop,” he growled, yanking your lips back to his with no more trepidation.

Having sex right now probably wasn’t the best option, given your recent walk with death, but you couldn’t stop the thrill of want that spread quickly down your spine. You wanted him despite the injury that made it hard to move. Breathing him in, you felt pleasure build up in your stomach as he moaned into your mouth—the sound filled with his own want.

“Tell me we’ll have more than this,” he whispered against your lips.

You knew where the words—the plea—was coming from. The doubt filled his mind the second he saw you lying there on the brink of death. The same inkling that you harbored when you left him that night in your small home; doubt that you’d have more than just this. That life would steal away the remainder of your time together. You wanted to promise him that you’d have more than you could have wished for. That eventually…you’d be able to be happy together.

But you promised yourself you wouldn’t lie to him again.

“I don’t know if we’ll have more,” you said, pressing yourself as close to him as possible in your current position. “But I can hope that one day we’ll get the time we should have gotten now.”

You could see that the words helped him slightly as a small smile tugged on his lips. Time never seemed to be in your favor, but right now you’d steal back what time so rudely took in the first place. Neither of you were needed at the moment. Eventually you’d have to be brought in to discuss your next mission; as would Obi-Wan. Except you refused to focus on that when you finally had him wrapped around you—the ache in your chest finally dissipating after so many years.

“I want you Obi-Wan,” you breathed, gripping onto the front of his robes.

He sighed, his eyebrows pulling tight as if fighting the urge to act on what his body craved. “You’re in pain.”

“So are you.”

The way his lips twitched kept you from letting him go entirely. He needed this; to feel you beneath him, begging for him. It would return the control he thought he lost the second your heart stopped beating. It would remind him that you were still there and not a figment of his cruel imagination. The prospect of the moment being ruined is what caused a shift in both of you.

Which is why he kissed you.

His pained grunt was wet against your mouth, your hand dipping into his robes in search of his warm skin. You needed to feel him, any part you could reach to satiate the growing emptiness in your body. Something about your touch lit him up from the inside, turned his body molten as he fought against the urge to take you quick and rough. He was still aware of how you barely shifted, his hands strategically shifting away from your injury.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmured, his forehead pressing against yours, hand grasping onto your thigh tightly.

You understood where he was coming from. Why he was so slow in touching you, and even then it was gentle—barely a brush against your skin. He didn’t want to inflict pain on you; he never had. Which is why you took his hands in your own, guiding them along your ribs until he cupped you through his robes, his thumbs instinctively going to your peaked nipples.

“Just touch me,” you breathed, lips brushing across his. “Touch me how you want.”

Leaning forward, he captured your lips in a searing kiss, tongue pressing against yours with a soft moan. If there’s one thing you knew about him, he would never tire of kissing you. Although you knew that you felt the exact same way. There were times that you wished you had met him differently. That he wasn’t a Jedi, but rather a man who was making his way through the galaxy.

If things were different then perhaps you would have been able to savor the time you had together. Rather than living in fleeting moments and broken promises.

“Please.” You dug your hands into his robes, attempting to pull at them, not wanting to wait any longer.

Except Obi-Wan had an insurmountable amount of patience. “I know,” he whispered, his hands reaching for the tie at the middle of the robe.

He pulled at it, watching with bated breath as it fell around your shoulders, exposing the expanse of your skin. The softness of it. Sighing softly, he dragged his lips down to your collarbone, pressing kisses wherever he could reach and nipping at the places he knew would draw out reactions from you. Biting into a spot along your neck, he grinned in satisfaction when you moaned, your hand digging into this hair.

“Don’t tease me Obi-Wan,” you said, unable to hide the smile in your words. “We don’t have much time.”

The reality of your situation seemed to click in his brain, his hands no longer light and steady—as if he had all the time in the world. Because that wasn’t possible. You weren’t given that luxury; rather you were forced to hide in what you could steal. So he finally gave in. His hands slid along your bare skin, lips finding yours again with a passion that stole your breath from your lungs.

You gasped, tugging on his hair to keep him from moving, as he shifted on the small bed. Dragging you over his lap, he allowed his hands the freedom to roam along your body, gripping at whatever he could reach. The robe was split open around you, draping down your thighs and obscuring what was happening from even the empty room. You wanted to lay naked with him—touch every little piece of his skin, trace all his scars you had yet to see. But there would have to be time for that later.

“Maker,” he breathed, his eyes drinking in the sight of you. Even with a bandage going around you, he still remained captured by your beauty. Awestruck by the view of you smiling down at him, wrapped in his robe. “You’re perfect.”

Smiling, you tilted his chin up to press another kiss to his swollen lips. “You flatter me Obi-Wan.”

Heat curled low in your stomach, licking softly at your body like a flame that had yet to be stoked.

He gripped your ass, sliding you forward until your cunt was pressed to the prominent bulge in his robes. “I’m merely telling you the truth dewdrop.”

“Oh—” You tugged at the fabric he wore, wanting it off, and he seemed to understand you without needing words. Releasing you, he peeled off the robes that blocked your hands from touching his chest.

Although only half of him remained visible, you took what you could get. He was here, touching you like you were the most valuable thing in the galaxy, and that was enough. It would always be enough.

Kissing his shoulder, you felt his hand creep up your inner thigh. He sighed softly when you widened your legs, giving him all the space he needed to touch you where you wanted him most. To feel how you practically dripped for him. A ragged noise tore from his chest when his fingers finally dipped into your slick, shock filling his body at the realization that he did this to you. He wasn’t sure there’d ever be a time when he wasn’t rendered speechless from it.

“Fuck,” you whined, grinding down against his fingers as they spread you open, gathering the slick at your entrance and circling it around your clit.

“Always so wet for me,” he panted, as if you were the one bringing him pleasure.

“Always for you.” The words were a sigh against his cheek, pleasure slowly creeping up your spine with each swipe of his fingers.

His body shivered, fingers sliding into your cunt in order to drag out a moan that he felt vibrate through his whole body. He wanted to listen to you fall apart for him over and over again. Wanted to stop time from dragging you away from him again to fight a battle that shouldn’t happen. Yet that wasn’t his choice to make. He was but a soldier for the Jedi Order to wield. And you were a player they couldn’t afford to let go of.

No, you weren’t going anywhere any time soon. Neither was he.

So he relished in the way your body writhed against him. Your eyes shut and mouth open, allowing all manner of sounds to break free. The echo of his fingers rapidly pumping into you made something hot burn in his body. A sensation he wanted to chase.

“I’m gonna—” A sharp intake of breath cut off your words as his fingers curved, finding where he’d drag you over the edge.

“Let go for me dewdrop,” he murmured, practically begging to see the one sight that had been burned in his mind.

Your hips canted forward, nails scratching along his chest as you sought the delicious heat that continued to build. His name was a reverent prayer on your tongue. Each word eliciting a response from him that drew you closer. As if you were two halves of a whole that had finally found one another again. Two puzzle pieces fitting back into place, picking up right where you left off.

“Obi-Wan,” you breathed, your lips sliding against his. “I love you.”

He was sure his heart stopped beating, your words sinking deep enough to heal whatever wound remained from the last time you left. All those years ago. Obi-Wan let out a shuddered breath, his eyes stinging as he watched your head tip back, your walls fluttering around his fingers. So he did the only thing he could do at that moment. He kissed you. Hard enough to finally push you the rest of the way, until you cried into his mouth—your body arching into his touch.

“Fuck.” He slipped his fingers into his mouth, moaning at the taste of you spreading on his tongue. Meanwhile you went for the top of his pants, pulling him free and forcing a pained grunt to escape. “I-I’m afraid I won’t last long—”

You shook your head, lining him up with your entrance. “I don’t care,” you sighed.

The sound he let out was like an addiction to your ears. His head fell back, hands gripping at your hips as you took him in one thrust. Just the feel of him stretching you made your head spin—the slight sting of his cock against your walls was something you wanted to keep. For when you were forced to part ways again.

Grasping onto his shoulders, you set a pace that would get you there again. It wouldn’t take you long at all; not with every emotion that ran rampant in your body. A mixture of love, of fear and pain, all wreaking havoc on your very being. You wanted to ask him if he felt the same, or if this didn’t mean as much as let on. But then he started talking, his eyes filled with an emotion you could now discern amongst the rest.

“It’s always been you,” he rasped, guiding your hips and trying his best to thrust into you messily, your slick coating his upper thighs. “Since the moment I saw you beneath that dewdrop tree.”

His cock struck where you needed him most, causing your toes to curl. “Ah fuck—maker—”

“You’re the one.” He cupped your cheeks in his hands, dragging your lips back to his. “I love you my beautiful dewdrop.”

You weren’t sure if it was his words, or the searing heat of his kiss, or all of that combined, but you quickly fell over the edge again. The broken sob that ripped from your throat being swallowed by him, his tongue sliding along yours. It rushed through you, rendering you incoherent and sending bliss right through your very core. Hot tears spilled down your cheeks, your emotions getting the better of you. But in that moment you welcomed them.

They were the truth that you hid from him. The feelings you could no longer hold in.

“Cum for me my love,” you breathed, cupping his cheeks to watch his eyes roll back, a stuttered moan falling from his lips as he spilled into you. 

The warmth of his cum filling you sent pleasurable sparks up your spine and you sunk into it. Willed for it to continue rather than be sentenced to whatever came next. He seemed to feel the exact same way. His arms wrapped around your bare waist, dragging you closer as he leaned back against the cold wall behind him, sighing softly at the feel of your naked chest pressed to his. Eventually this would end, life would be set back in motion, and whatever relationship you had would have to be locked back up in your hearts.

But for now…you were free to feel whatever you wanted. To pretend that you would be able to walk out there hand in hand and face this battle together.

“You know sometimes I like to imagine that when I met you…you weren’t a Jedi.” His hand caressed your back, as if to tell you he wanted to hear more. So you continued. “We’d have met the same way, beneath a dewdrop tree. You would have called me whatever name you wanted. And we’d…” Tears slipped down your cheeks. “We’d have gotten married, lived on Corellia, possibly had a home together.”

His lips pressed to your temple, the wet feel of his tears falling against your skin. “Me too,” he whispered, his heart aching at the pain that enveloped him like a cold hug.

“We can still leave. Find a place to live and have that.”

He smiled. “Where would we go?”

The entire galaxy was about to enter a war, which meant that nowhere was safe for you to hide. Nowhere would be left alone—leaving you to fight alongside one another, yet remain planets apart.

Lifting your head, you saw his blue eyes shine with tears as he considered the same fate as you. Oh how unlucky were the two of you. Destined to fall in love, yet forced to live apart. Until time finally fell on your side.

“Promise me,” you breathed, wiping his tears. “That you’ll find me. No matter where we are. You’ll find me, like I’ll find you.”

He nodded, pressing a kiss to your palm. “Always.”

Drawing the robes back over your shoulders, you pressed yourself close to him again. Enjoying the feel of his softened cock filling you, his lips pressing against yours regularly—hands sliding along your back. Neither of you were ready to leave the safe haven of this room. Too caught up in the knowledge that this would come to an end once you did. Which is why you remained like this. Simply enjoying each other’s company—the closeness you might not get again.

He pressed kisses to every part of you he could reach, whispering how much he loved you, how he’d do everything in his power to get back to you. And you replied in kind. Telling him things that you had only dreamed of. You exposed the emotions you had kept locked up, and he welcomed them with open arms. Promising to cherish them for as long as he was alive.

A knock on the door stirred you out of your warmth, shattering the fantasy you two had created in this small space. Obi-Wan sighed, his head leaning against the wall as disdain filled his eyes. He didn’t want to don the Jedi title again; would much rather remain here with you. But that was no longer possible.

“Yes?” he called out, refusing to let you move from where you were on his lap.

Bail’s voice echoed through the door. “They’re asking for you. Both of you.”

Obi-Wan nodded. “We’re on our way.”

“I don’t want to leave,” you said when he pulled away, tucking himself back into his pants and glancing at you longingly as you laid back down.

“I can tell them you’re not awake.”

“I don’t want you to go either.”

He smiled, but it never quite reached his eyes. Rather it turned them sad and you found you hated that more than seeing him cry. “We have to do our duties to the Republic.”

Something severed in your heart, a sensation so sharp and biting it nearly made you flinch.

“I’ve been doing my duty for far longer than I should have. You don’t know the things I’ve done Obi-Wan. What they claimed was for the good of the Republic.” You could remember the horrors you went through, the pain you inflicted on people who didn’t deserve it. You weren’t doing good. You were simply acting as their pawn who had no other choice.

“I don’t care what you’ve done dewdrop.” He pressed his forehead to yours, leaning over you. “I love you no matter what.”

“You should care,” you whispered, anger building up in your chest. “Because they’ll make me do it again.”

“They—”

A louder bang against the door cut him off.

“Bail I said—”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t stall for you anymore. They’re insistent.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes shut, his heavy exhale washing across your cheeks. Before he could respond, you pushed him back into his standing position, getting up to gather your armor. Both of you knew what would happen if you didn’t go out there. The Republic's best soldiers holed up together in a room doing who knows what. You knew that alone was grounds enough to start up the conversation of what you meant to each other.

Neither of you wanted that to happen. Not when the galaxy was on the verge of being torn apart.

“Just—” You took in a breath, strapping the beskar to your body. “Don’t break our promise Obi-Wan. No matter what.”

He kissed you. Hard. Shoving every ounce of emotion he had into this small act, and effectively causing you to melt into his arms. Your hands dug into his hair as your eyes fluttered shut. You wouldn’t know when you’d get this again. A small moment away from the demands of reality. So you took what you had and ran with it. Kissing him back, you pulled him close enough to meld his very soul to yours. Until you had something of him to keep with you.

“I won’t break it,” he gasped, ripping himself away from you as the doors slid open.

Bail regarded your haphazard appearances with a small grin, but you saw the regret in his eyes. “I’m sorry my friend. I wish I could give you two more time.”

Obi-Wan merely smiled, patting him on the shoulder. “You gave us what you could. Thank you.”

You watched as Bail left—no doubt to tell them you were both on your way—before turning to Obi-Wan. “He knows?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t tell me you told him.”

He fixed the left side of your armor for you, making sure it was in the right place. “He is rather perceptive.”

You knew he was lying by the way his eyes never met yours. Yet you couldn’t find it in yourself to worry about something so small and insignificant. Especially given that you were about to be assigned somewhere not even the Jedi Order could find you. Smiling, you took his hand in yours, thumb running along his knuckles as you walked down the brightly lit hallway. If this was all you’d get, then you would squeeze as much as you could out of every second.

At least enough to satiate the coming loneliness that would plague you soon.

Sighing, he glanced at you one more time, taking in the features he’d miss most—attempting to burn them into his mind. “Shall we?”

You nodded reluctantly. “Yes.”

The chair you were sitting in was mildly uncomfortable. Enough so to keep you awake amidst the chaos that ensued around you. Obi-Wan was placed in his usual spot by Master Yoda, the battle plans spread out on the holotable, each one slightly different from the last. You lost count after the third one—focusing instead on the ache that began to spread in your side. Apparently being stabbed with a lightsaber left residual pain even bacta couldn’t fix.

“I’ll be sure to make contact with the Republic. From there I’ll begin to contact my allies; people I know who would be willing to fight with us,” Bail said, his shoulders hunched slightly forward.

The battle on Geonosis had taken a toll on all of you—slowly revealing a darker side to the Galaxy none of you knew was there.

“Will you be sending out agents?” Obi-Wan asked, his eyes flickering towards you so quick only you’d be able to notice it.

He nodded. “Who we have will be the first ones sent. They can contact allies in ways we can’t. Not to mention survey what the Separatists are planning.”

Whatever breath remained in your lungs was punched out, your situation now another battle plan on the table. You weren’t going to remain on Coruscant, or even on Alderaan. You were going who knows where to complete a mission that wasn’t a part of your fight. And you would do it without question. As you had done before.

If Obi-Wan was intent on fighting—on protecting the galaxy—you would be right there with him.

“As far as I know,” you began, shifting on the chair until you felt relief on your side. “My story still stands with Count Dooku. Jango Fett was the only one to realize.”

“And he’s dead,” Bail added.

You knew he would disagree the second you insinuated the prospect of going back to that hell hole. He wouldn’t let you walk right back into the open arms of danger. A place where he couldn’t follow this time—where he couldn’t save you. Sure enough, Obi-Wan shook his head, his eyes narrowing in your direction. Others may have seen it as a warning, but you could see the truth as easily as reading a book. He was asking you to stop; to let him take care of this for you. Because that’s all he could do.

“He might be dead, but they saw us take you. There wouldn’t be a way to show you weren’t a part of us all along,” Obi-Wan said, his hands clasped together on the table. “I suggest you go with Bail. Give the Jedi Order time to try and search Dooku out.”

“No offense Master Kenobi, but if the Order couldn’t find him before, what makes you think you’d be so great at finding him now?”

“He once was one of us.”

You shrugged. “Not anymore.”

“Right Obi-Wan is,” Yoda interjected for the first time. For a moment you forgot that he was sitting there, watching you and Obi-Wan attempt to argue your sides. “Take care of it, the Order will.”

“But—” Bail’s hand gripping your knee painfully beneath the table cut off your words. You winced slightly, clearing your throat and accepted what was bound to happen. “Of course. My apologies.”

“We’ll be reaching Coruscant soon, but I fear finding allies can not wait.” Obi-Wan leaned back in the chair, his eyes meeting yours once more. Only this time he didn’t look away. “Where is it you said you would venture?”

Bail flicked through his holopad. “Whoever is a part of the Republic, but I have people scattered through the Outer Rim.”

He nodded. “There’s no time to spare. The longer Dooku is on the run, the more we may risk the chance of losing. Master Yoda and I will go to the Jedi Council. I recommend you seek out your people.”

“Of course,” Bail responded, standing abruptly from his chair before turning to you. “You’ll be accompanying me. I suggest you say you’re…goodbyes.”

Master Yoda followed him out, the conversation seeming to continue even as the doors shut. And suddenly there you were again. Sitting in silence, alone with Obi-Wan. You tried to catch your breath as your mind processed everything that was said; the plans that had been made. Finding allies and asking them to join the Republic on the side of this war wouldn’t take months. No, it was a job that would leave you gone for years.

This was it. The last moment you’d get with him in who knows how long. Yet you couldn’t figure out what to say.

“Dewdrop—”

“I’m sorry,” you said softly, tears filling your eyes.

Obi-Wan was next to you in three quick strides, crouching beside you, hands cupping your face. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“But that’s the thing…I do.” One tear slid down your cheek and that was it. You could no longer hold it in—you broke, a sob clawing its way up the back of your throat. “I’m sorry for leaving that night. I should have stayed. Taken you up on your offer to run away together.”

He shook his head, his lips pressing to your forehead. “You made the right choice.”

You scoffed. “Then why does it hurt so much?”

“Choosing the right choice isn’t guaranteed to be the easy one.” His thumbs wiped the tears away. “Oftentimes it’s the hardest decision we have to make.”

“Maker you sound like a Jedi Master alright.”

He smiled, his forehead pressing to yours. “I suppose it’s a good thing I am one.”

A broken laugh filled the room, lighting up his heart in a way he would miss desperately. “Anakin’s lucky to have you in his corner.”

You stood, letting him gather you in his arms, willing time to stand still for a few minutes more. At least until you had to walk out that door, leaving him behind as you continued what you were meant for. You remember telling him when you were both younger that you wished you had a soulmate. Someone who was so connected to you, they were forever a part of your very being.

Funny how he’d always been that for you. The man tied to your very soul.

“I’m in your corner too,” he whispered, his arms tightening around you. “Whenever you need me dewdrop. I’ll find you. Just as I promised.”

You didn’t have words left to say to him, because what more could be said? What did you two have left but this? So, you tangled your hands in his hair, pulled him close and pressed your lips to his in a bruising kiss that said it all for you. You tasted the salt from the tears he shed, the pain he endured. And you took it. You gathered it in your hands, held it close, and promised to keep it safe. Forever.

He inhaled sharply, his hands grasping at whatever part of you he could find—whether or not it hurt he didn’t give a shit. He just had to feel you. Licking gently into your mouth, he smiled softly at your moan, willing his mind to sear that single sound in his memory. He’d hear it again. That he was sure of. But for now—this would have to do.

“Until we meet again?” you whispered against his lips.

Obi-Wan let out a shaky breath. “Yes,” he vowed, his hands reluctantly letting you go as you stepped away. “Until we meet again my beautiful dewdrop.”

You smiled but the light never reached your eyes. Letting his hand go, you turned back to the door. You felt like you were tearing yourself in half again, enduring a pain you never wanted to go back to. But you knew if you turned around, if you looked him in the eyes, you wouldn’t walk out of this room. You’d stay here with him.

So you took the step and headed out into the hallway, the tears falling down your face freely now. By the time you reached where Bail was you were certain that the very last part of your heart had severed itself free. Leaving you shattered all over again.

Following Bail onto his own ship you watched him set the coordinates for Alderaan, detaching the ship entirely. And for the briefest of moments you watched the ship Obi-Wan remained on grow smaller in the window. Until eventually you could no longer make out its shape, just another distant speck in the galaxy.

“I’ll find you,” you breathed, shutting your eyes the second the ship took off into hyperspace. “I promise.”

[freesia-writes]

Chapter 7: Invitation

During the Clone Wars, the Bad Batch is tasked with a variety of missions across the galaxy. An unexpected addition to their team throws a wrench in the mix, particularly for Tech, who finds a particular connection with this disillusioned Padawan-turned-mechanic named Vel throughout the events in this action-adventure romance.

COVER ART BY @zaana!! And this was my first fanfic ever, y'all! :D

Master List of Chapters

Time passed, and missions blended together. Vel settled into her new position, contributing her skills to keep the ship running smoothly. She kept to herself as much as possible at the beginning, but throughout a variety of experiences, found small connections with each member of the crew. 

Wrecker was the one to teach her dejarik, with their hand-carved physical set, but Hunter was the one she couldn't beat. Crosshair refused to play, opting instead to make endless adjustments to his weapons kit from his seat in the corner, but still couldn't resist throwing out the occasional thought or strategy critique.

Her unease around Crosshair began to diminish as she stopped trying to earn his favor. As she contented herself with polite cohabitation instead of meaningful connection, she found him more peaceful to be around. His cynicism and scowly manner were simply his nature, as much as Wrecker's boisterous zest for life. 

Her initial attempt with Hunter did not go well. They were scouting along a ridge, on a dusty and dismal planet, when he crouched to the ground, tracing his fingers across the sand, picking some up and letting it sift through his fingers as he inspected it closely. 

"What is that?" she asked suddenly.

"A mix of decomposed granite and sandstone," Hunter replied.

"No, what is that thing you do, grabbing dirt and feeling it? What are you getting from that?" Vel continued. Behind her, Wrecker caught Crosshair's attention, throwing a toothy grin his way and jabbing his thumb toward Vel.

Hunter stared at her for a moment, visibly affronted. Every fiber of his being emanated an indignant air of how dare you. Even Tech looked up from his datapad with a bemused smirk.

That was where the conversation ended. Later, over another futile game of dejarik, Vel found herself thoroughly enthralled with Hunter's account of a mission on Hoth. She had never heard of the icy planet, and his description of the tauntauns was borderline unbelievable.

It was Tech that she found herself most at ease around. His curiosity was infectious, and the satisfaction he found from both learning and teaching was impossible to hide. She felt old parts of herself stirring, parts that had been dormant for years, as she would find herself three volumes deep in the astrological lore of some random system, read aloud by Tech as she sat across from him. 

"Man. All we had on Corellia was the Eye of the Pirate," Vel said, as he took a break between chapters. "A big red star that was impossible to miss. I made up some other constellations on my own, but there was nothing like this," she said, referring to the heroic mythological tales of the Yvara that he had been reading. 

"The Horns of Waryl are quite fascinating," Tech agreed, pointing to an illustration of the three stars forming an inverted pyramid, "But on Corellia you also had the Ronto and Drall's Hat."

"Seriously?" Vel asked, inwardly groaning that he knew more than she did about the planet she had spent her later childhood and young adult years on. 

"Yes! I shall show you, if our adventures ever take us there, or if you ever have any wish to visit," he volunteered. "But for now, I can show you the only constellation available to us at this location. If you will follow me?"

She rose from her seat, following him off the ship. It was parked on a platform atop a tower on Coruscant, and endless lines of traffic bustled in every direction. A steady hum of speeders and ships reverberated from the depths of the planet to the edge of its atmosphere, and the horizon was filled as far as the eye could see with twinkling lights, flashing billboards, and row after row of towering buildings. 

He walked to the edge of the platform, off to the side near the front of the ship, and tilted his head up at the sky, examining the stars scattered across the sky. "There," he said, pointing above, "Follow the edge of that green antenna upward until you see a tight cluster of three stars together."

Vel stood next to him, cocking her head in a similar manner and squinting to follow his direction. She wrinkled her nose, seeing the green antenna but following it upward, again and again, unable to find anything resembling a star cluster. 

"Look," Tech said, getting close behind her and putting his head right next to hers, over her shoulder. He reached an arm up again, next to her face, and pointed at the tower before drawing a line upward once again. 

But Vel was no longer focused on the stars, instead wildly preoccupied with his sudden closeness. She swallowed, forcing herself to keep her eyes toward the sky, but felt an odd squirming sensation in her stomach. 

"I see it... I think..." she said, positively lying through her teeth but not wanting to appear completely blind. 

"Excellent!" Tech exclaimed, oblivious to her internal turmoil. "That cluster makes the eye of a constellation known as Eryon, or the Burning Snake. If you trace the shape of an S, going to the right from the eye, you will see the rest of the snake." He moved his hand again, drawing the letter in the sky, tilting his face closer to hers so there was a hair's breadth between their cheeks.

She caught a whiff of something, a mix of things that took her a moment to sort out. Burnt metal, fresh soap, and a clean, almost woodsy scent that suddenly catapulted her back to the delight and wonder she felt on Kashyyyk. 

She felt a heat rising into her cheeks, and, almost irresistibly, leaned toward him a tiny bit to rest her cheek against his. Under the premise of stargazing, of course: "I see it," she said, truthfully this time, "All the way down to the tail there?" She hoped to draw his attention away from the touch, but it was a futile attempt.

"Oh, excuse me," he said, pulling away suddenly. "I apologize, I was unaware of my proximity."

"It's okay," she said softly, shuffling her feet. "I didn't mind."

"Anyway, there it is," Tech said, gesturing one last time toward Eryon.

They stood for a moment silently, so much unspoken, and regarded the stars.





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[zenrobbins0021]

Across the Galaxy: Chapter 2

Hunter x OC 18+ (warnings will be given before certain chapters)

I woke to the feeling of the ship rumbling to a stop, jostling slightly as the landing gears kicked into action. I stretched my legs as I realized I was lying down in a bunk, blanket stretched over my shoulders and I sat up. I remembered getting out of the fresher, feeling more clean than I could last remember, and stumbling to the bunk that Hunter had gestured to before he moved to the navigator's chair. The bunk was simple with one pillow and cool sheets but the blanket smelled smokey and warm, a scent my senses vaguely associated with Hunter now as he had brushed past me. 

“Morning,” Echo smiled, slipping the last of his armor on as he headed towards the cockpit, “We just landed at Ord Mantell so we’ll be headed out soon.” 

I rubbed my eyes and followed him, smiling as Wrecker eagerly handed me a stick of dried jerky, 

“Breakfast! Last of the rations.” He wiped his mouth on the back of his glove, smacking his lips dramatically, “Can me and the kid go on a supply run this time, Hunter?” 

I followed Wrecker’s gaze to the clone sergeant who slid down from the cockpit, his helmet resting against his hip as he shook his head in amusement, 

“We’d be out of credits if you were in charge of buying supplies.” He said good-naturedly before his eyes moved to me, “Sleep well?”

“Yes, thank you.” I rubbed my arms, the soft black fabric of the extra clothes he had given me smoothing against my skin, “It was kind of you to give up your bunk.”

“Don’t mention it.” Hunter bent his head, the few tendrils of brown curls disappearing as his helmet slid into place. “Let’s get moving, boys.” 

I followed the clones out of the ship, taking in the busy streets of Ord Mantell as they wove their way expertly through the crowd. Beside me, Omega watched as I looked around in wonder at the various stalls, merchants, and haphazard buildings that made up the inner city. 

“Seedy, isn’t it?” She asked and I looked down at her in amusement.

“Where did you learn that word?” I laughed. 

“From my friends we met in Corellia, Trace and Rafa.” Omega explained, “Just wait until you meet Cid.”

The clones stopped at a door the slid open, revealing several steps that descended into a darkened bar. It was mostly empty with a few scattered patrons playing games on holoscreens set up between booths and barstools. Behind the bar stood a Trandoshan female with jewel green scales, beady eyes, and a scowl that crossed her expression as she turned to face the Bad Batch. 

“Well!” She exclaimed, placing her claws in her hips as if she were scolding her children, “It’s about time. I was about to send a search party for you lot.”

“Glad to hear that you care about us, Cid.” Hunter’s voice sounded even more dry through the modulator of his helmet. “Muchi is in the cargo hold. You can have her once we get our cut of the bounty.” 

“What, you expect me to bring her here on a leash?” Cid scoffed, “Her owners will be at the landing bay to collect her.” Her reptilian eyes slid over to me and she looked me over head to toe. “What’s this? Found a pretty little lady to ease your nerves?”

“This is Iona.” Hunter turned slightly to me, his voice sounding weary and I guessed that he had been dealing with this Cid long enough to know that she got on his nerves. “She was part of the Zygerrian slaves and we took her with us.” 

“How much did she cost?” 

Cid’s comment made Echo tense, “She wasn’t for sale.” 

“Relax, grumpy.” Cid waved her hand dismissively, heading towards the back of the bar where another door slid open, “Get back here and discuss your cut of the bargain, dark and broody.” 

Hunter took of his helmet, meeting my eyes as I mouthed, “Dark and broody?” And his eyes crinkled, hinting at a smile before he followed Cid.

I looked around, “So, this is what you do for a living? A grab and go crew for a slimy Trandoshan bartender?” 

“We didn’t have a lot of options.” Echo admitted, rubbing the back of his neck, “Cid used to be an underground contact during the Clone Wars for the Jedi, so I figured we’d be able to build some credits before moving on elsewhere.” 

“The credits are sufficient.” Tech agreed, “But it would be more helpful if our cut was not 40% of each job we completed for Cid.” 

“I’m sick of talking about Cid.” Wrecker complained, shifting his weight impatiently, “Another mission complete, kid. Let’s go get some Mantell Mix.” 

Omega clapped her hands, jumping high to smack the upraised hand of her brother before turning to me. “It’s tradition.” She explained solemnly, “Mantell Mix for every successfully completed mission. Will you come with us?” 

“Uh-“ I looked at the closed back door where Cid and Hunter had gone behind, briefly wondering how he trusted her enough to be alone with her. Tech met my eyes and a flash of understanding appeared in his expression as he paused his typing on the data pad.

“Hunter will be fine.” He stated simply. 

“Lead the way, Omega.” I replied to the expectant girl beside me, letting her and Wrecker bounce out of the bar and back into the busy streets of Ord Mantell. The dim setting sun cast an orange glow across the pavement, reflecting off of the various metal and glass of the buildings in a hazy ambiance. Wrecker and Omega beelined for a stall selling cartons of popcorn mix, eagerly tapping their cartons together in a sort of cheers and munching immediately, 

I wandered from stall to stall, looking interestedly at the merchandise as I listened to Omega chatter. Even though I had just met the group of clones, I felt safe with a Wrecker trailing beside me and his sister and it was a feeling I could get used to. 

“Omega!” 

We all turned at the sound of Hunter calling and Omega trotted up, brandishing her Mantell Mix and her older brother obediently took a kernel, used to her instance of sharing. I waited until he reached us and he slowed his steps, allowing Omega and Wrecker to walk a few paces ahead of us. 

“Did you get paid?” I asked, trying to make small talk with the leader of the squad as we walked. He nodded, 

“It’s never guaranteed with her. Depends on what kind of mood she’s in.” 

“That doesn’t sound fair.” 

Hunter lifted one of his shoulders in a shrug, 

“She calls it a ‘mutually beneficial arrangement’ but it’s becoming less and less mutual by the week.” 

“Then why do you stay with her?” 

Hunter was quiet for a minute and the hustle and bustle of the streets filled the silence between us before he answered carefully. 

“We’re…deserters. We fled once the Empire took control and we’ve been on the run ever since we took Omega from Kamino.” 

I looked at him from the side as we walked, tilting my head slightly upwards. His eyebrows were furrowed, creating a little ridge above his sharply carved nose as he was lost in thought, his lips pushed out slightly with his frown. Dark eyes slid down, meeting mine as he returned my look, 

“What is it?” Hunter asked. 

“Nothing,” I was embarrassed to be caught staring and refocused my attentions forward, “You seem to really care about your family. They’re lucky to have you, you know.” 

Hunter’s lips tilted upwards and his shoulders relaxed at my brief compliment. We turned a corner and we reached a small motel with candles lit in the rounded windows. Omega and Wrecker scampered inside and I followed, giving Hunter a small smile of gratitude as he held the front door. 

“We stay here sometimes to get away from the ship.” He explained, “Tech and Echo are loading the Marauder for our next mission but we thought you could use some rest sleeping in a real bed.” 

Once again, I was surprised at the thoughtfulness of the clone brothers towards a stranger they had taken in. Omega was inspecting every corner of the small room, opening cupboards and standing on tiptoe to look at the streets below. Wrecker put down a carton of Mantell Mix by the nightstand and gave me a wink, 

“For when you get munchy later.” He explained before taking Omega’s hand. She turned her attention to me, her warm brown eyes sparkling as she grinned,

“You’ll be back tomorrow, right?” She asked, “I want to show you my target practice with my crossbow.” 

“I’ll be there.” I assured her, watching as Wrecker led her down the stairs, leaving me alone with the sergeant. He had reached into his pack and brought out a bundle, handing it to me quickly as he spoke,  

“I bargained with Cid for some better fitting clothes. I’ll be back in the morning to walk you.” 

“Hunter-“ I put out a hand to stop him, as he was already moving away. His eyes landed on the hand resting on his armor-clad forearm before looking at me again, the same feeling of warmth expanding in my stomach unexpectedly and I dropped my hand. “Thank you. I promise as soon as I can find some work, I will pay you back.” 

Hunter nodded, hesitating for a split second before reaching into his belt for a communication device. He handed it to me, his fingers closing mine around the device securely as he spoke, “This is connected directly to our encrypted comm channel. If you need anything or any of us, use it.” Before I could respond, he turned and quickly headed down the stairs, closing the door behind him. 

[in-a-nook-with-a-notebook]

Recon | 21st Time’s The Charm

Franchise: Star Wars

Pairing: Poe Dameron x male reader (reader’s pronouns are he/him/his)

Word Count: 2447(ish)

Warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of blood

Series Summary: You met Poe Dameron on twenty separate random occasions before you even remotely considered joining him in any sort of way, as part of the Resistance or otherwise. And while a lot happened in those twenty times, nothing really happened until the twenty-first…

Chapter Summary: During a reconnaissance run for the Resistance, Poe catches up with an old friend: you. And you’re a little worse for wear.

A/N: I’ve risen from the dead with a new entry, I know I haven’t updated in months.

Y/N = your name // Y/N/N = your nickname // E/C = eye colour // H/C = hair colour

Series Masterlist // Prologue // Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6

[Poe’s POV]

If memory serves, and it always does, I’m on Corellia when I find Y/N for the seventh time. I’m part of a standard reconnaissance run for the Resistance when I spot Y/N’s ship for the first time in months, since he left Coruscant. 

“There’s no way...” I murmur. 

“Poe, unless you have eyes on the mission objective, I need you to focus,” Temmin says over the comms. 

“I know, I know, I just...” 

“Poe.” 

“Sorry. I’m focusing.” I look away from the familiar ship and bring my mind back to the mission. What I don’t realize is that the guy I recognized had recognized me as well. As I turn away to move on, Y/N looks up. 

————————

The rest of the Black Squadron and I blend in with the crowd in Diadem Square, watching out for the targets of the recon mission. Just a simple, get in, get information and get out. Except it doesn’t end up being that simple. Not for me, anyway. 

As I turn a corner to get closer to our target building, a pair of strong hands drag me into the neighbouring alley. I get pushed into the shadows and – surprisingly – lightly pinned to the wall. When I catch a glimpse of my assailant, I relax into his grip. 

“Look who’s returning the favour,” I say with a smirk. “Told you we’d meet again.” 

“What the hell are you doing here, Poe?” Y/N demands in a whisper, as though worried someone would overhear. 

“Poe, where’d you go?” Temmin asks worriedly over comms. 

“Does anyone have eyes on Black Leader?” Jessika inquires softly, a nervous edge in her voice. “Where the hell is he?” 

“Guys, I’m fine. Just give me a second,” I mutter. 

“You’re here with people?” Y/N asks. 

“Yes, I’m here with my squadron. Reconnaissance mission for the Resistance, nothing major. Where have you been?” 

“Where have I been? I’ve been avoiding your people; I don’t want my parents getting to the Resistance.” 

“You’ve been avoiding me,” I say softly. 

“I told you, Poe, I can’t let you get hurt because of me.” 

I roll my eyes, shrugging Y/N’s hand away. “I can defend myself, we both know that. Quite frankly, I don’t give a damn about your parents! I want to be able to talk to you and see you on a regular basis. If your parents find us, so what? We can both fight. We’ll fight together.” 

“We can’t have this conversation right now, I need to get out of here.” 

“Come with us,” I say quickly. Y/N blinks. He blinks again. “You know you want to. We need you, Y/N. You can help us take down your parents.” 

“I’m taking down their operation just fine on my own, Dameron.” 

“You don’t have to do it on your own,” I reply, a hint of desperation in my tone. “How many times am I going to tell you that?” 

“Being around me puts you in danger,” Y/N says firmly. “My parents have probably already started to catch on to me, I can feel it. If you’re with me and I’m attacked or found... I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to you.” 

“Poe, who the fuck are you talking to?” Temmin asks. 

Jessika gasps. “Wait, did I hear you say Y/N? As in the Y/N, the one you never shut up about?” 

“I am this close to taking my comm out if you don’t shut up for a minute, you two,” I grumble, looking at the sky above Y/N.

“So, you’re not following me,” Y/N says warily. 

“No, I’m not following you. As much as I wish we could stick together, no, I’m not following you,” I murmur. 

Y/N’s eyes flicker from my gaze to my lips, then back again. “I’m sorry for pulling you from your mission. You have a job to do.” 

“We don’t have to split up.” 

“It’s for the best,” Y/N says, but his voice is strained, like it hurts for him to admit. He inhales deeply. “You’re safer when you’re not around me. I have to go.” 

“Commander Dameron?” Jessika asks. However, this time, she’s not speaking over the comm system. She’s at the opening of the alley with Temmin. “Is that you?” 

“I’m here, Jess. I’m fine.” 

Y/N and I step out of the shadows, and I can finally get a good look at him. He has a cut through the symbol on his cheek that’s had no medical attention. The arm that he was using to pin me to the wall hangs at his side unmoving – possibly broken. His shirt is ripped in a few places. There’s a bandana tied tightly around his bicep, stained with blood. His hair is a mess, as usual, but somehow even messier. Dirt and blood are visible around his hairline. He’s favouring his left leg as well. 

“Oh my god, are you okay?” I ask immediately. 

“I’m fine, Poe.” 

“You most certainly are not. You are in desperate need of medical attention.” 

“Poe, I said I’m fine,” Y/N says forcefully. He tries to put pressure on his favoured leg, winces, and continues to stand on a lean. “You have work to do, and I have work to do. This is where we part ways again.” 

“Any friend of Poe’s is a friend of ours,” Temmin states. “And we don’t leave friends injured.” 

“You don’t even know me.” 

Temmin shrugs. “I know you enough. Poe never shuts up about you.” 

“Oh my god,” I mutter to myself. 

“Don’t waste your resources on me,” Y/N says, his voice wavering a little. 

“It’s not a waste,” Temmin insists. “Look, I get that you don’t seem to want to be here. Lemme make you a deal. You let us patch you up and help you clean up a bit, and we’ll let you on your way. No obligations, no strings attached. Just some medical attention, maybe a shower and a change of clothes. That’s all.” 

Y/N cautiously looks from Temmin to Jessika to me, then back again. 

“You won’t make me join you?” 

“I swear. We swear.” 

He hesitates again, rolling his shoulder a little. “Fine. Just a patch up.” 

“Poe, take him back to the ship,” Temmin says. “We can take the recon from here, just worry about your friend.” 

I frown. “You sure?” 

“He knows you better than he knows us, and you know him better than we do. He trusts you. Plus, you do have medic training. We’ll take care of the mission, it’s alright.” 

I glance at Y/N, and he nods. “Okay,” I say. “Alright. I’ll catch up with you guys later. Keep me updated.” 

“Yes, sir,” Jessika says jokingly. 

The four of us leave the alley, splitting off in our own directions; Temmin to his section of the square, Jessika to hers, and Y/N and I towards the ship. 

“Sir?” Y/N asks, awe evident in his voice. “They call you sir?” 

“You don’t need to sound so surprised, Y/N/N.” 

“And since when do you have medic training?” 

“Since it was a requirement. Everyone goes through medic training for the Resistance, it’s important that we know how to patch ourselves up. Well, ourselves and others, of course.” 

“I don’t know if I trust your hands around me after remembering how many simulators you’d crash at the Edge.” 

“You’re ridiculous.” 

“Thanks.” Y/N sucks in a breath when he accidentally puts too much pressure on his bad leg. I glance at him in alarm, and he shakes his head. “It’s fine.” 

“I doubt it.” 

Y/N scoffs. 

————————

We reach the ship and Y/N opts to shower before I deal with his injuries. If I remember correctly, he’s about my size, so I lay out some of my clothes for him to replace his old ones. 

I’m thankful that our ship has the space it does. Enough bunks for the squadron, plus a full bathroom. We’re pretty far away from our base on the Outer Rim, so we need facilities like these. It’s easier and safer to stay on the ship than to find another place to stay or to camp out. 

My mind wanders to Y/N and what he could be up to that got him so hurt. I didn’t think that much could happen to him while I lost track of him, but here we are. I don’t like seeing him hurt, I never have. I don’t know what I’d do with myself if he’s any more injured than he is right now. I wish he’d just join the Resistance. Maybe then I could protect him. Not that he needs protecting, he can fight for himself and defend himself just fine. I don’t doubt that. Maybe I just- 

The water of the shower turns off, pulling me from my thoughts. The next thing I know, Y/N steps out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist, his torso still dripping from the shower. My eyes widen for a second before lowering to the floor, hoping he didn’t see me blushing. 

Wordlessly, I pass him the pile of my clothes. “You can change in here, I’ll close the door. Leave it open when you’re done and I’ll come back in. I have to go find the medical kit anyway. 

“Poe, wait,” Y/N murmurs, grabbing my wrist as I move to leave the room. I look back at him, trying to force my eyes not to wander lower than his gaze. I swallow thickly. “Are you blushing?” 

“I- um, no. No. Why would I- no.” 

“Poe.” 

“I’m- I’m not!” 

Y/N grins. “You face says differently, but okay.” He lets go of my wrist and I let my arm drop. “I’ll just be a minute.” 

“Take your time,” I say softly. I hesitate, holding his gaze, then turn around and leave the bunk room, closing the door behind me. 

————————

When I come back, Y/N’s hair is still damp from the shower, but he’s dressed. His towel is hanging on the hook by the bathroom and he’s sitting on the bottom bunk – my bunk, actually – with his good leg folded under him. 

I stand in the doorway for a moment, until he looks up at me. 

“Hey there, doc. Gonna patch me up?” 

I chuckle. “Obviously.” He readjusts himself on the bunk to give me space and I carefully sit down next to him. “What hurts the most?” 

“Probably the gunshot wound.” 

“You were shot?” 

“No, I was stabbed with a blaster.” 

“Glad to see your sarcasm is still intact, no matter how hurt you get,” I say with a laugh. “Where’s the shot?” 

Y/N untucks his shirt – well, my shirt – with the hand of his good arm and unbuttons it. He moves part of the shirt aside to show where he was hit. The heat of the blaster shot cauterized the edges of it a little but it’s starting to bleed a little again. It looks like it could be getting infected. 

I whistle, getting a pad of hydrogen peroxide ready to clean it. “Damn. How’d you manage this?” 

“Trying to disable my parents’ organization gets pretty messy.” Y/N winces when I dab at the wound. 

“Sorry.” 

“Not your fault,” he murmurs. He steadies his breathing as I clean up his side, bandaging it to keep it from getting infected. 

“How’s that arm of yours doing?” I mutter, mostly to myself. Without saying anything, he carefully pulls his arm out of the sleeve. “Tell me where it hurts, okay?” I say softly. Y/N nods. 

I start at his fingers, moving them each a little bit. He doesn’t react. I move to his wrist, and he winces a little when I roll it. “Possible sprain,” I whisper. I keep poking and prodding my way up his arm until I reach a point between his elbow and his shoulder. He gasps in pain, sucking in a breath through his teeth. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Y/N groans. 

“I think it’s broken.” 

“Broken?” Y/N exclaims. “It can’t be broken, not now! I’ve got too much shit to do, it can’t be broken!” 

“Y/N/N, it’s broken,” I say seriously. He groans in frustration. “Listen, if you don’t take care of it, it’ll only get worse.” 

“What’s worse than this?” 

“A permanently broken arm,” I say pointedly. He scowls at me. “I’m sorry, but it’s true. If I don’t help you take care of it now, it’s not going to get better.” 

Y/N huffs, rubbing his tired eyes with his free hand. “Fine. Just... please tell me I’m not gonna need a cast sort of thing.” 

“You got lucky. If I gave you a cast where it is, I’d have to cast your entire arm.” 

“So, what’s your diagnosis, doc?” Y/N teases. 

I turn away to dig for supplies in order to hide how my face went red. “I think I can give you a brace. Might be best to brace your whole arm because I think your wrist might be sprained too.” 

“Dammit. Fine, whatever gets me back into commission.” 

“Y/N,” I say seriously. “You need rest.” 

“I’ll be fine, I need to deal with my parents’ mess.”

“You, aren’t, listening, to me.” I stare at his E/C eyes, trying to force him to focus on me. Some of his H/C hair falls in his face as he turns his head to really look at me. “Y/N, you really need to rest and take care of yourself. I mean it. Okay?”

“Poe…”

“You aren’t getting rid of me and my worries for you. You’re stuck with me. I’m not letting the person I care about most let himself get hurt more. I need you to listen to me. Please.”

Y/N holds my gaze, and he almost looks a little alarmed. “Why are you so worried about me? I was fine when we parted ways on Coruscant. I’m still fine.”

“Maybe I’m not, then.”

He frowns. “What’s that mean?”

“I mean, I can never see you anymore and I hate it, okay? You’re out there, fuck knows where I’m the galaxy doing fuck knows what, and I can’t help you. I can’t talk to you. I never know what’s going to happen to you and I hate it.”

“Being around me is trouble for you.”

“My entire life is trouble for me,” I say through a humourless laugh. “I’m with the Resistance, for fucks sake. You can’t get rid of me, Y/N/N.”

“I’m not trying to get rid of you, Poe, I’m trying to protect you!”

Y/N moves to stand up but collapses back on the bunk in pain, gripping his leg and groaning. “Fucking shit…”

“This is exactly what I’m talking about.”

[queen-scribbles]

Occupational Hazard

Here we go, the Ody/Chance fic that started as an angst fill before it ran away with me big time. ~3k, immediately post-Agent story. ---

It was easier to infiltrate Coruscant than she'd anticipated.

A simple slice of the customs terminal and the infamous Cipher Nine was walking out of the spaceport long before her shuttle's engines cooled. She wasn't sure if that was a credit to her skill or a demerit against Coruscant security. That ease, however, was balanced out by the difficulty tracking down who she sought.

Despite the difficulty--and multiple databases she had to crack--she did eventually find herself in the correct wing of the correct hospital, rapping lightly on the doorframe of a dimly-lit room. "Hello, Chance."

It took a moment for him to react, clearly not expecting a visitor at this point in the day. "Legate." He frowned, cocking his head. "What happened to you?"

"A lot," she said reflexively, perhaps a touch bitter before it sank in what precisely he meant. "But this was Corellia." She raised a hand to trace the fresh scars around her left eye, half-shaded by her hair. "Tortured for information by a secret society I was working to topple."

"Did you?" he asked after a beat.

"I did, yes." But she didn't want to talk about Hunter now, that wasn't her purpose here. She shifted. "May I come in?"

He started, then nodded, wincing as he rubbed the back of his neck. "They borrowed my chair for someone with visitors and I haven't gotten it back yet..."

"It's alright," she assured him, crossing to sit on the edge of the bed Up close she could see the haggard traces remaining on his face, though those wounds had healed. "I don't mind. How are you doing?"

He shrugged stiffly. "Better, but nowhere near ready to leave yet. At least there's less oversight here in long-term rehab, so I'm not getting poked every couple of hours. They mostly leave us alone except for meals or if we need something." He fiddled with the bio-monitor cuff on his wrist. "Legate, I-"

"Odessa," she interrupted. "My name. Odessa Isric. We should start off honest this time, hm?"

His ears were pink as he nodded. "I'd like that." He met her eye. "Sollen Rieves."

She'd learned that from tracking him down, but didn't point it out, simply smiled. "Nice to meet you, and I have to admit... that both fits what I expected and doesn't." A sheepish laugh. "If that makes sense."

"It's a good spy name, but I'm not a very good spy?" Chance--Sollen--said wryly.

His tone made her think it was a sentiment he'd heard--or overheard--but Odessa shook her head. "I'm not saying that." She studied him a moment. "And I can't imagine you had much time as an agent for someone to make that assessment."

"You aren't wrong," he muttered, wincing as he attempted shifting to a more comfortable position in the bed.

She gave him a moment to settle, musing on her own thoughts. Briefly as they'd worked together, she'd noted both his openness and kindness as things that wouldn't last long in the espionage business. Either they'd burn out or he would. But Taris had made that a moot point, by all evidence.

"Sorry," he mumbled, finally finding something that worked.

"No need to apologize," Odessa said with a small shake of her head. "You're still recovering."

"Which is going slower than some would like," Sollen said. "But a lot of the damage was internal, so there was only so much kolto could do. They're just antsy to see if they can send me back into the field or need to stick me somewhere else." He shook his head and cleared his throat. "But, anyway, what're you doing here, and" --he glanced out to the hallway, lowered his voice--"why don't you sound Imperial?"

She chuckled. "It can be called for, in this line of work, to carry or drop any number of accents at a moment's need. Including my native one." A small smile. "I can do a Mantellian farmer's twang, if you want an example...?"

Sollen laughed. "No, I believe you."

"I thought it best to not sound Kaasian on the Republic homeworld. As to the first part of your query... I didn't want to wait until you're out for that drink." Odessa started to reach into her jacket pocket, then paused, glancing at the bio-monitor screen embedded the wall nearby. "So long as you're not taking anything that would make that a bad idea?"

"Nothing that strong," he promised with a shake of his head. "Not anymore. Even if I was... it was the company I was looking forward to more than the drink."

"As was I," she said with a smile, slipping out the flask of Alderaanian honey brandy. "But this is very good."

He reached for the water cup on the bedside table, drank the little that remained, and held it out. "So we don't have to keep passing back and forth."

"Smart." She pour a little of the honey-shaded liquor into the cup. "To fruitful conversation, and a speedy recovery for you."

Sollen exhaled a wry laugh. "The second part'll take some kind of miracle, but thanks." He tapped the cup against her flask and they took a drink.

There was enough alcohol bite to make them both clear their throats, but the honeyed aftertaste came in quickly to soothe the tingling burn.

"That is very good." He looked down into the cup, then at her. "Expensive good. I didn't realize Intelligence paid their operatives that well."

"They don't," Odessa said with a small laugh. She swirled the brandy still in the flask as she debated how much detail to go into. "It was a gift. From an Alderaanian baron. His house was point of contact for a mission I had there, not long before being assigned to Kothe's team, actually. In the course of my mission, I... handled some things for the house that made him feel parting gifts were appropriate."

She didn't mention those things had involved unmasking his wife as funding terrorism or preventing a killik hive from absorbing the estate. Or that she hadn't reported the gifts to Imperial Intelligence.

"Ah, so they're bonuses," Sollen chuckled, taking another sip.

"You could call them that," she nodded with a smile as she followed his example. "I've done my best to savor them, but this seemed a worthy occasion."

"I'm honored." His smile faded and he looked down again, scratching at the rim of the cup. "About your assignment with us... Le- Odessa, I wanted to apologize-"

She knew where this was going, and was shaking her head before he finished.

"-for Taris. I should have..." The words trailed off as he looked up and caught her.

"There's no need," Odessa said softly, her own gaze drifting to the window.

"Yes, there is!" He frowned, tone rife with disbelief and indignance on her behalf. "It doesn't matter how scared I was, or how badly I didn't want to die, I shouldn't have done it. I should have trusted-"

"-that an alleged enemy defector you'd worked with for a few days would have your best interest at heart?" she finished dryly.

"You patched me up without needing the keyword, saved my life, so clearly it would have been the right call," he countered.

"But you didn't know that." Trusting people that much in spycraft would get you killed. "I'm not saying it was pleasant, but I understand."

"It's not really about what you would or wouldn't have done without the keyword," he said with a sigh. "It was wrong, and I knew it, and I did it anyway because I was scared. I'm..." He met her gaze, held it. "I'm very sorry, Odessa."

She had to admit, it made something in her chest warm beyond what brandy could accomplish to hear an apology, no matter how unnecessary. More so that he'd attached her name. Enough she had to look away for a moment. "I appreciate and accept that, and you're forgiven."

"Just like that?" He still seemed uneasy.

"Mm. Chance," she very deliberately didn't correct using his code name, "were I in Ardun's position; defector dropped in my lap right when I needed on, foolproof way to make sure this wasn't a trap or otherwise too good to be true, I can't say I would've chosen any differently than he did."

Sollen's grip tightened around the cup. "Really? Even knowing...?"

Odessa took a deep breath and nodded. "It's an occupational hazard for spies," she said softly. "We have to make hard calls, do unpleasant things, to accomplish goals for the greater good, and hope it's worth it."

Sometimes the greater good decides to stab you in the back for doing your job too well.

"I see where you're coming from," he said slowly, "but I don't know if I agree. Once you stop caring about the cost to individual people, or your cause starts demanding you stop caring, I think it stops being the greater good."

She chuckled and tapped the flask against the side of his cup. "Maybe you are too soft hearted for this business," she teased, taking another sip of brandy. "Maybe that's not a bad thing. Maybe..." she sucked her teeth. "...maybe I wish I was more like that. More like you."

The rueful smile and eyeroll at her teasing devolved into a blush and a rather bashful expression by the end. "Maybe it's not too late for you. And... maybe it's irrelevant for me."

Odessa frowned, nails tapping lightly against the metal flask. That was the second allusion like that he'd made. "Irrelevant? Were your injuries that extensive?" He had lost a lot of blood by the time she patched him up in the half-wrecked hospital hall. But he'd gotten to a medevac under his own power and she'd thought...

Sollen nodded, setting down the cup. "I can show you...?" He waited for her faint nod of confirmation before tugging up the hem of his shirt. "This is after two surgeries, three times in a kolto bath, and my first month of rehab."

Medseal wrapped from his hip to just over halfway up his chest, and pocked scars showed higher up, healed as kolto could get them. For it to still be this significant after a year... She winced.

"Granted, the actual injuries only come about here" --he tapped a finger just shy of his navel-- "but it was awkward to keep just that covered, synthskin kept peeling, so they opted to fully wrap. Goes halfway down to my knee, too," he said, letting the shirt fall. "They had to take part of a couple ribs, thanks to how they broke, fix a bunch of internal damage, and they thought they'd have to take the leg, at first. Obviously they didn't, but..." He sighed. "Safe to say my future as a field agent still looks real fuzzy right now."

Odessa nodded sympathetically. "Mm. And... how do you feel about that?"

"Ask me again after another month of rehab," he said with a sheepish chuckle. "Once I know if walking is something I can mange on my own. That'll definitely clear things up. Not sure right now." He picked the cup up and took another drink.

"If you're not... enthusiastic about returning to field work, maybe it's not a bad idea to take other options under consideration," she said.

Sollen nodded absently. "The possibility of a desk job's been tossed around. Analyst or handler." He wrinkled his nose. "Not sure how I feel about that, either. Getting to know someone, multiple someones, and having to not just send them into but watch them deal with dangerous and stressful situations... don't know if I could do it. That might be worse than doing it myself." He gestured to the scarring that ran down the left side of her face. "How'd your handler feel about that?"

"Regretful, but what we were doing was important," Odessa said with a shrug. "And it's part of the job."

"Part of the job..." he muttered. "Well, I have a few months of medical leave to work our if it's a part I want to--or have to--deal with anymore."

"Best of luck with that." She rested a hand on his shin and gave a light, supportive squeeze.

"Thanks," he said wryly, finishing off the brandy. She held up the flask to offer more and he shook his head. "That's enough about me, though. What have you been up to? Aside from toppling secret societies, I guess."

"First of all, I came looking to talk about you," Odessa corrected. "To find out how you were doing, I was worried after Taris. Second, given how entrenched and widespread it was, toppling the secret society has been a bit all-consuming..."

She ran through the story, with most of the details, all the way from Isen Four and Belsavis through the Cabal's ship and her final confrontation with Hunter.

And accepting Ardun's offer to be a double agent. For real this time.

"So... you're working for us?" Sollen asked when she was done, voice pitched low as if to keep secret, but hopeful nonetheless.

"Mm-hm." Odessa picked at the side of her thumb. "I don't know how close to the chest Ardun plays his cards for... sources like me, so it may be that only he, you, and I know my new allegiance."

"Lips sealed, I promise. I know how it works." He smiled. "Thank you for trusting me. If I can ask... what made you accept?"

"I followed orders I didn't entirely agree with, did... things to protect the Empire that were those hard calls I mentioned, almost got myself killed to keep it safe." She sighed. "And my reward for doing my job so well was having my will shackled. Bound to obey whatever they said, because I dared defy a Sith, even one bent on destroying the Empire he was supposed to help lead. I gave everything and was still no more than a tool to them, to rewire as they saw fit." She winced at his expression. Had that much of her hurt bled through? "Sorry."

"It's alright." He studied her face, searching for something. "So what made the Republic seem any better? Kothe and I used the keyword and took advantage of the brainwashing, wouldn't that make us just as bad?"

He would make a good analyst. Examining information for method, not just the end result. "You aren't the ones who did it to me, put an override chip in my brain. You only used it because you were seriously injured and scared" --she reached toward his injured side, stopping before she made contact-- "which makes people do things they normally wouldn't, and Ardun..." She bit her lip. "Ardun was protecting his people. The Sith who ordered it done were protecting their power."

Once she'd started really thinking about that, it never failed to bring a thin smile to her lips. The all-powerful, fearsome Sith so afraid of a single Cipher agent that they shattered her loyalty with the very action meant to guarantee it. It was almost poetic.

"That makes it better?" Sollen asked skeptically.

She shrugged. "Between people and power, I'm far more on board with protecting the former."

"Then maybe you aren't as jaded as you think you are," he said, lightly nudging her hip with his knee.

"That would be nice." Odessa tipped up the flask to empty the last dregs. I have too many ghosts for it to be true, but it would be nice...

He frowned. "If the Empire thinks you're loyal, won't it raise suspicion that you're on Coruscant?"

"Perhaps." She tucked the empty flask back in her pocket. "Imperial Intelligence was dissolved, so I'm not officially an agent. And they think I have the Black Codex from the Star Cabal, thanks to a few... strategically phrased half-truths. No telling where leads from that might take me."

"But if it puts you under scrutiny..." There was worry in his eyes, for her, and it made her heart clench.

"I work well under scrutiny," she promised. "Part of what made me a good fit for Intelligence in the first place was my natural charisma and working well under pressure. My assignment with your team, for example. Even under such scrutiny Ardun used my keyword--and he wasn't wrong to do that, Sollen, Intelligence sent me to stop him--I could have taken down nearly the entire team. Left you to die on Taris, killed Saber, Wheel, Ardun himself, and brought his plan crashing down around his corpse. I was supposed to, that was my assignment, and the only reason I didn't is I didn't want to." A sharp, brittle laugh. "Call it my first act of rebellion after getting free of the... mental restraints."

He stared at her a moment, then chuckled. "You're a little bit terrifying, 'Dessa, and I'm glad your on our side now, even if you weren't then."

"Well, thank you." She hummed a wry laugh, smiling at Dessa. She didn't think he realized he'd done that. She liked it. "I've never liked to kill anyway, unless I have to, and in that case it seemed a good way to start pushing back. Besides," Odessa caught his eye and gave a meaningful smile, "I liked you, most of you. Some more than others."

That blush was back, climbing his neck and ears. "Thanks. We liked you, too... Some more than others."

He was starting to look tired, and she'd pushed this visit longer than was likely prudent regardless, but she wasn't going to pass up an opening like that. "Maybe we should do something about that some more than others?"

Sollen's brows arched, a smile starting to curve his lips before shifting to mild concern. "Do you think it's a good idea? Could get complicated."

"Oh, it will undoubtedly get complicated," Odessa said wryly. Just logistically speaking, with you stuck here... "And I have no idea if it's a good idea, but I want to do it anyway, so long as you do."

He let the smile bloom. "Oh, I do. I'd like to see where this goes." He reached out to tentatively brush his fingers against the side of her hand. "Whatever that means, far as making it work."

"I suspect a lot of me visiting you when I can," she said with a smile, catching his hand before he withdrew and giving a squeeze. "Since it seems your ability to travel will be inhibited for... a while."

He snorted. "Considering I can barely manage to hobble a lap of the room right now, I think 'a while' is being generous. Or politely vague." He squeezed her hand back. "It'll give me something to look forward to."

Odessa nodded, heart pounding. "For now, though, I should probably go. Let you rest and not push my luck."

"Can't deny I need it," Sollen let go of her hand with a reluctant sigh, then smiled. "Thanks for the drink."

She chuckled, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. "You're welcome."

"Next time I'm buying," he said as she headed for the door.

"I'll hold you to that," she said warmly, and slipped from the room, out of the hospital, back to her shuttle. It wasn't until she was strapped in and running preflight that Odessa's smile fully bloomed.

The promise of there being a next time was something she would look forward to as well.

[captn-trex]

technical devotion, part four: call to action

content warnings: none :)

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Kan could hear somebody rapping on the door from inside her headphones.

“One moment” She called, stepping through the ever-growing mess that was her office.

“Oh hey Rex, what can I do for you?” Kan smiled up at the Captain.

“Hey Kan” He smiled, leaning against the doorframe with crossed arms, “I was just thinking about this upcoming mission, Senator Organa said you have you have some field experience, is that right?”

“Oh, well yes, I do. I have medic training as well” She replied, slightly cautious.

“Hm” Rex stroked his chin in thought, “We might need you to step into the field for this one. It would be just you and Echo, does that sound like something you could be up for?”

“Yeah, of course Captain, whatever you need”

“Okay” He smiled, “Well there's actually another mission that could possibly use your help with, so we'll see what Echo thinks and plan from there”

Kan nodded and followed him as he returned to the command centre, finding Echo already in there, leaning over the central holotable. He stood up straight as he saw Kan enter behind Rex, and she smiled at him as she always did. Echo made no move to return the warm gesture, instead his face painted with confusion.

“Echo, I’m thinking of sending Kan with you on this one” Rex spoke up.

“Is that really necessary?” Echo retorted, no hostility in his words though Kan certainly saw it that way, trying hard to hide her hurt.

“She could really streamline the whole process, and besides, she may be able to think of another way that we haven’t considered” Rex replied, a little short with his brother as he noted his unnecessary angst towards the Mirialan. Kan was pleased to see that at least Rex had faith in her. She enjoyed his company and found him to be an incredibly effective leader, a commanding presence that still felt kind.

Echo just looked at Kan, his regular blank stare piercing her. Though from his perspective, his mind was running wild. He was eternally frustrated at himself for the way he found himself acting around Kan, drawn to her but keeping his walls up. Echo was well aware that she was displeased with him, particularly now as he could see the dejected look on her face. He knew she liked to be useful in any way she could, even at the expense of herself.

“If you dont think it's going to work I'll send her off to Corellia with Howzer, he could really do with-”

“No” Echo said quickly, “It's fine, you're right, she would be useful”

Kan felt incredibly awkward, feeling as if she had interrupted a domestic of some sort, and because they were both speaking as if she wasn't stood right there.

“So…” She stepped forwards tentatively, “What’s the mission?

Rex brought up the map, “This is Haidoral Prime, mid-rim, there’s an imperial facility here that we believe is transmitting something to the planet that you found out about, where they’re sending clones”

Kan stepped up to the table beside Rex, “And what are our orders?”

Echo was slightly taken aback by the shift in her presence. She suddenly became strikingly military in her disposition, a seriousness that felt strange to see on her features. Echo once again felt drawn to her, finding this other side of her personality equally as alluring.

“I originally intended on Echo going in and just stopping the transmission, trying to find out whatever it was they were transmitting, but now I'm thinking that maybe…” Rex paused, “Is there anyway you could reroute the transmission?”

Kan's eyes flicked about the map projected above the holotable, her teeth subltely gnawing at her bottom lip as she seemed to be deep in thought.

“Permission to speak freely sir?”

“Yeah Kan of course” Rex almost chuckled at her professionalism.

“I believe a different approach would serve us better. I could easily reroute the transmission, but the Empire would surely catch on soon enough. Instead… It would take longer but… I could possibly find a way to duplicate the transmission. That way, the Empire would still be receiving the transmission, but so would we. I would of course make sure that the transmission to this base was undetectable and untraceable, create a path that made no sense and seemed like a mistake if discovered, but that still leaves the issue of the Empire receiving the information” Kan chewed on her lip once more, “Perhaps there is a way to corrupt the signal on their transmission, something that would wear it down over time, so that they don't suspect any foul play”

“You could do that?” Rex asked, glad he asked Kan to join this mission.

“Certainly, though… it would take me quite a bit of time, and I don't know what kind of tech they're working with. Do you know anything about the number of troopers they might have in there?”

“No, we have no idea” Rex sighed locking his hands behind his head.

“In that case…” Kan started, looking to Rex for conformation that she still had the floor, and he nodded, “I see there being two options, one of which is probably the obvious answer, but that's up to you Captain. First is, Echo goes ahead with the original plan by himself” She spoke confidently and looked at Echo for the first time in the exchange, noting his slightly awestruck look.

“The second is that we go in more than once. The first time purely to get an idea of the tech they're using and how I can replicate the signal. Then I'll need to go away and have some time to figure everything out, then the second time would be to actually input the changes” Kan said, then her confidence retreated a little, “I understand how that is a lot more effort and it may just be more worth it to disable it and have done”

Rex sighed deeply, “It would be a lot harder but… You're right, that could really give us an edge”. He paused for another moment, running over everything Kan had said in his mind, “Alright, I say we go for it. Echo?” He looked to his brother.

Echo was still looking at Kan, but his eyes flicked to his brother as he adressed him, “What?”

“What do you think?” Rex asked.

“About what?”

Rex gave him a confused look, “About going ahead with Kan's plan”

“Right, um” Echo looked to Kan and then back to Rex, “Yeah, it sounds like a good idea, I think we should go for it”

“Okay” Rex still eyed Echo suspciously, “It's going to take a little more planning then. Kan, I suggest you go and pack your tools now”

“On it” She nodded and quickly exited the room.

Rex turned to Echo, “What's the matter with you?”

“Nothing” Echo said, a hint of a sigh seeping through.

Rex just watched him for a moment, almost immediately coming to the right conclusion for his actions and sighing deeply. “For kriff sake Echo” He said with a slightly disbelieving laugh, “Look, just keep it professional for this mission okay?”

“What? I didn-”

Rex put up a hand to interrupt him, “I'm not interested in discussing this right now. Go and see if she can still shoot and I'll draw up this plan”

Echo ground his jaw in quiet defiance of what Rex was claiming without using the words, and Rex watched him amusedly as he left the room with a slump in his shoulders.

Kan stepped out onto the the tarmac, her bag slung across her chest and resting on her hip. She looked around for Echo, who had requested that she meet him for something before they left for their mission.

The prospect of going on a mission with Echo was exciting to Kan for a number of reasons. For one, going into the field in itself was something that she had missed greatly, and she felt entirely more useful for being so involved in foiling the Empire. She was also determined to break through whatever wall Echo continuously put up with her, and there was perhaps no better time than a mission where they were alone. She hoped that she could prove her usefulness and gain his trust in completing this mission efficiently and successfully.

Kan heard her name called and snapped her head to the left, where she saw Echo standing with a blaster at his side.

“I’m going to teach you how to use a blaster” Echo said as Kan approached him, and she realised that there were three targets set up a short distance from them.

Kan came to a stop in front of him and tilted her head to the side with a small laugh, “I know how to shoot, Echo”

“You do?” He replied, eyebrows raising slightly. He was sure that Rex had said she couldn't, but maybe he had been a little distracted at the time.

“Mhm” Kan said, clasping her hands behind her back, a small bounce in her toes.

Echo looked over her amused expression and bit back his own smirk, feeling almost exhilarated under her undivided attention. He held out the blaster in his hand, letting it hang on his first finger.

“Show me what you're made of then” He challenged, and Kan smirked as she took the blaster from him.

Kan stepped up to the mark, and took a deep breath, centering herself as she looked at the targets that had been set up. Echo watched closely, monitoring her form. She then swiftly brought up the blaster and fired off three rounds, hitting each mark perfectly. Echo raised his eyebrows, impressed and noting technique almost indistinguishable from his own.

“Wow, I'm honestly impressed I hit all of them. It’s been a while” Kan chuckled, lowering the blaster to her side.

“Where did you learn to do that?” Echo asked.

“Oh, um, you know… here and there” Kan said a little awkwardly.

Echo didn't take Kan as someone who kept secrets, usually seeming so open and happy to talk, but he didn't pry. If she didn't want to tell him then that was her business, not that the thought didn't gnaw at him anyway.

“Your form is good, exactly how they taught us in the GAR” He noted, seeing her stiffen minutely.

“Heh, yeah… cool” Kan said, handing Echo's blaster back to him and adjusting her bag across her chest a little. Echo watched her tense movements for a moment more, but quickly moved on.

“We can get going soon. I thought that was going to take longer to be honest” Echo said, a small smirk playing on his lips.

“Wow. What did I do to make you have so little faith in me?” Kan pouted in jest, then quickly matched his subtle smirk.

Echo just shrugged and holstered his blaster, moving away towards the ship they would be taking on the mission. Kan followed after him, and they climbed the ramp up into the ship. It was a modest size; two seats in the cockpit and a moderate hull, with a small refresher and bunk through two doors at the back.

“This is your ship?” Kan asked, turning to look at Echo as he sat down in the pilot's seat.

“More or less. I don't think anyone else uses it” He replied, powering up the ship.

“It's nice” Kan muttered, more to herself than anything.

The journey to Haidoral Prime was a few standard hours underway, and Echo had said all but 5 words to Kan the entire time. She opted to sit on the counter of the kitchenette in the hull, her fingers drumming against the surface as she chewed on her lip, thinking of something to say.

Kan had always got along with people quite easily. She was friendly and liked to form connections, however shallow, with everyone she came across. Echo's determination to meet her friendliness with some form of quiet animosity was starting to wear her down a little bit, and at this point, she just wanted to come right out and say how she felt about it.

“Echo?” Kan said, her voice no more timid than usual, despite the unfamiliar flurry of anxiety in her gut. Echo turned to look at her and saw her fiddling with her fingers in her lap. “Can we talk?”

“What's up?” He turned his seat to face her, leaning forward onto his knee.

“I'm just wondering…” Kan chose her words carefully, “It feels like you don't really enjoy my company very much and… Well, is there a way that I can make you more comfortable around me?”

Echo immediately frowned. “That's not true, I-” He started but the words got stuck in his throat.

“You don't have to like me I suppose, but if it's something I've done or something I'm doing then I'd like to know” Kan said assuredly.

“I-” Echo said, swallowing and forming his sentence before he spoke, “I do like you, and I enjoy your company. I'm sorry if it seems otherwise”

Kan’s lips quirked into a small smile. “Oh” She said simply, “Could've fooled me”

Echo let out a small laugh, suddenly feeling a tad insecure about himself, “Yeah, I guess I'm not as outgoing as some of the others”

“That's okay” Kan smiled, jumping down from the counter and walking up to the cockpit. She looked around all of the controls and couldn't stop herself from grinning.

“Who did all the upgrades in here?”

Echo was immediately bashful under the scrutiny of a proper technician, “Uh, I did"

“Right” Kan nodded.

Echo watched nervously as she took in his adjustments, waiting for her to say anything more, but she didn't.

“Is that a good ‘right’ or a bad one?” He asked, an amused smile being sent in his direction.

“Mostly good, I wouldn't have done the phaser like that, but if it works it works” She said, pointing behind Echo.

He turned and looked at the piece, then back up to Kan who was now leaning on the back of his chair, her face startlingly close to his.

“How would you have done it?” He asked, holding her eye contact despite feeling his palms become clammy as he did.

“You've got some wires crossed” Kan pointed, and he followed her finger as she somehow drew even closer towards him. “It's nothing that would cause problems of course, but if you're going to cross wires there are ways that would make it run more efficiently. I can do it for you after this mission if you like?” She suggested, looking down to Echo once more.

As he found her eyes again, their faces mere inches apart, he felt as if his throat had dried up completely, leaving him unable to speak. Instead, he nodded slowly, and his breathing became shallow as he noticed the small flecks of gold in her otherwise deep green eyes. Kan could see Echo's eyebrows had relented from the small frown they always held, his eyes brighter than she'd seen before. The sight made her heart stutter, and she realised how truly close she was to him when she felt his breath fan over her face.

Kan moved away with a shy smile, muttering an apology and completely unaware of the effect she had just had on Echo. The moment was mere seconds, but to Echo, it had felt like minutes, hours even, and he blinked a few times as Kan began talking about something, not fully able to register her words.

[raven-of-domain-kwaad]

For Amélie Biava - When you met Amarra, you were Imperial Intelligence and she was a powerful Sith Lord, with little if any restrictions on how she could treat you. With such a disproportionate power dynamic, how did things wind up going the way they did for you?

OC Interview

Thanks for asking @swtorpadawan!

Amélie leans back in her seat and chuckles darkly.

“Yeah that’s a fair question. I sometimes ask myself how I managed to swing it with the damned Wrath of all people. Talk about out of my league and a huge threat to my life.”

She hums faintly and gently thumbs at the polished band of black metal on her finger.

“I fully admit that I didn’t trust her when we were first properly introduced. I mean it’s like you were saying, Sith can do what they want and the Wrath? She sits outside of the Sith hierarchy and answer to no one but the Emperor. She even has enough authority to challenge the Dark Council. So really what chance did I have if I wanted off her ship?”

Her eyes become hard, clearly recalling stories of others that suffered at the hands of mad Sith but she shakes her head before continuing on.

“Now with any kind of relationship it takes all parties involved to make it work but I will say that she did most of the initial heavy lifting to try and reach out to me. Just looking at her crew spoke volumes about her. How many Sith do you know that have a free twi’lek with more tech skills than a Fixer, a Black Ops squad on perpetual standby, a former Jedi apprentice that happily engages in philosophical and political debates with her new master and a sadistic assassin droid? Hm... actually forget the droid. Lots of Sith would probably have an HK unit if they could. But the others? You won’t find many Sith that actually have a crew like that who are all loyal and don’t just trust but love the Sith that they follow.”

She sighs and stares wistfully off at nothing.

“You hear old stories of noble Sith and their cherished followers. Old Korribani and Ziosti legends of Sith protectors defending those that they love. Most of those stories are lost to time and Republic purges but the romanticism of those tales endure... Of all the Sith in the Empire, I've found that Amarra embodies those old tales more than anyone I’ve ever seen. She cares about those under her command and that apparently extended to me.”

A genuine smile spreads across her face, reaching her eyes and even causing her body to relax. Her deep sense of gratitude is very clear.

“So, like I was saying, once I was finally out of the kolto tank, she reached out to me. I've often wonder if she could sense that I didn't trust her and that made her reach out. Whatever the reason, she offered to find me a doc to clone me a new hand after I lost mine on Corellia. She also gave me the chance to transfer to any command I wanted. I could write my own ticket and go anywhere I wanted. She didn’t even know me at the time, just wanted to help out another Imperial citizen.”

Her eyes return to her wedding band and she cannot stop smiling.

“After looking at my options and taking a serious look at her file- which can I just say, was damned impressive? Defeated a well known Jedi Master before being named a Lord, took out the Republic War Trust, killed a Dark Councilor, won the initial battle for Corellia and personally ended a coup led by her former Master. And never once did she ever act out of personal gain. She had no interest in personal power and only wanted to serve the Empire. What an ideal,” she says with what could only be described as hearts in her eyes.

“So, I chose to stay on and became her official pilot and unofficial liaison to what was left of Imperial Intelligence before Sith Intel got set up. I worked hard getting her whatever information I could, because I felt she was the best chance the Empire had for moving forward. She took notice and made sure that my actions were always commended. Got a promotion thanks to my work and she eventually started trusting me with more responsibilities, even putting me in charge of her own personal spy network she took from her old master."

She pauses then and her face scrunches faintly as if in sympathy, likely due to truly understanding just how stressful a position like Keeper's had been, managing so many agents.

"So, truth? I got lucky. I could have died at the hands of my captors on Corellia, honestly that's probably what was supposed to happen, knowing the last two Keepers. But I was lucky because she found me. If I had been found by anyone else in the Empire, I probably would have been court martialed for being on an unsanctioned intelligence operation. But she got to me first. And I must say, I am eternally thankful that she did."