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star-wars-scribbles-ff · 4 years ago

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Where I Belong | Chapter 2

Story Summary: The only family she’d ever known gave her a name; back when she belonged to something. But when that family is lost, she leaves it all behind. When destiny drops her in the last place she ever wanted to be, she has to earn back the trust and respect of the Republic that left her to die. Caught between the Jedi and the Grand Army of the Republic, she’ll discover where she belongs.

Fandom: Star Wars | Galaxy Far Far Away

Rating: T+

Story Genre/Warnings: action/adventure/found family | war violence, death, torture, discrimination, alcohol consumption, angst, fluff, found family, lots of clone boys, [more]

Words: 7,712

Disclaimer: Majority of properties within this fanfic are owned by Lucasfilm/Disney. My OCs, as well as a few other things within this fanfic are of my own creation. Republic Cog header made by me 😊

CHAPTER NOTE: Next chapter! Little shorter than the last so I hope that is acceptable. Don’t have much to say other than I hope it is enjoyed 🥰 OH! Check out one of the links below to see some arts I did for my OC Arwen Corcer! Her name is pronounced [ARE-when COURSE-er] for those interested!

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter | Arwen Corcer Mercenary Visuals

Present Day…

The sun was just beginning to disappear behind the Coruscant skyline. Colors ranging from orange to purple were splashed behind the whisked clouds. The cityscape shadowed much of the surface, making it seem much darker than it had been minutes prior.

Knelt on the ledge of one of the complex buildings, Arwen Corcer cradled an adventurer slugthrower rifle close to her body, cheek nestled over the stock as she stared through the scope, down the barrel.

Bum bum…. Bum bum…. Bum bum. It was prevalent in her mind; the one thing she could hear. Breath steady, and both eyes open, she kept her dominant eye trained through the scope at the target. It was the only thing that could take precedence over the sound of her heart beating slowly, calculatedly.

Just over a mile away, the target stood on the balcony of a large complex with other party guests attending a fundraiser. Since the outbreak of the war between the Galactic Republic and the Confederacy of Independent Systems, he'd been finding ways to make money off of both sides, all of which were illegal, helping to settle her conscience about the job.

Arwen didn't know the motive behind the client who had hired her to eliminate the individual, but from what dirt she'd been able to turn up on the target, they had their fair share of skeletons in the closet- not including their double dealings with both the Republic and the CIS. Whatever the motive was- Arwen didn't have any desire to know; it wasn't her business, and it was also the job not to ask questions. That she learned early on.

The target had a female Twi’lek on his arm. She was relatively close; too close. Arwen would need to wait for a proper window.

The balcony was a large half circle that acted as a roof to half of the tower it rested upon; the outer wall of the half-circle was lined with finely arranged floral bushes and other organic material that contrasted starkly with the harsh greys of the city. Seating also scattered the sides of the balcony. Twenty-four individuals resided on the balcony, including the target who was talking with multiple associates.

Finally the moment came, and the female left the target to walk inside. There was an opening.

Allowing her gloved fingers to make a minuscule adjustment on the barrel of her rifle, Arwen kept her breath steady, gaze locked on the target.

Bum bum…. Bum bum…. Bum bum.

Her finger began to slowly squeeze the trigger.

Bum bum.

She breathed in.

Bum bum.

Then out.

Bum bum.

She went to squeeze the trigger when a flash of blinding light overrode her senses.

“Haar'chak!” Arwen cursed and lowered the rifle, squinted eyes raised towards the sky to see a Republic transport coming to a stationary hover around twenty-five yards above her.

Spot lights flashed around her as individuals in the transport angled them towards her. Voices echoed over the roar of the transport. Republic Police.

Raising her rifle again, Arwen quickly found the target once more.

Identify. Breathe in. Breathe out. Squeeze.

The recoil of the rifle doubling back into her shoulder coupled with the force of the rifle pushing what air that was left from her lungs was familiar, oddly comforting, as she resettled the rifle, watching through the scope as the target was knocked to the ground with the force of the slug.

Not a blaster bolt. Arwen would take a good blaster any day, but using old fashioned solid rounds was always a sure way to handle a job. Took authorities longer to get leads and she could make the ammunition herself if she so desired.

Quickly flipping the safety on the weapon, Arwen swings the rifle over her body, securing the safety strap to her armor plate before taking off across the roof of the complex. Disappearing into the maze of air conditioning and ventilation units and other structures, Arwen pulled the fabric hanging around her shoulders up, securing it over her nose before pulling the hood over her head.

The authorities yelled as they repelled down onto the rooftop and began a chase.

Dodging ventilation units and other cubic structures that littered the rooftop of the tower, Arwen came face to face with several GU-series Police Droids.

“Halt,” One held up an arm towards her, SS-410 pistol in hand. “You are under arrest.”

There were too many here to have happened to notice her presence. She had been set up.

Dodging the fire of one of them, she lunged forward and pushed them over before continuing through the maze of structures. She just had to get to the opposite end of the complex. Those droids would have speeders; she’d take one and dump it near one of the vents; they’d suspect she's gone into the lower levels.

Rounding a large unit, Arwen came to a screeching halt at the overwhelmingly bright colored individual.

“Stop!” A standard Republic clone trooper fitted in the signature bright white armor pointed his blaster at her. He looked rather taken off guard.

Arwen, still controlling her breathing, allowed her jaw to briefly clench before her ears perked and she heard the Police droids and her lips parted. Her eyes jumped to the side for a split second before she felt her eyebrows twitch.

“Don’t move.” He ordered, going to step closer to her.

She remained still as he approached, waiting for her opportunity before slapping his blaster away. She was quick to emobilize him; having grabbed his forearm she turned and put her back to his chest before throwing the trooper over her shoulder.

He let out a cry of surprise before grunting in pain as he crumpled to the ground. Arwen’s pistol was already pointed down at him, his head at her feet. His helmet was already facing her but he seemed to flinch moments later; an indication he’d now noticed his predicament. He went to unsteadily raise his hands with hesitation.

Breathing now uneven and not controlled, Arwen stared down at the trooper. Mouth turning dry, she swallowed before her head shot up.

They were coming.

Shooting the briefest look back down at the trooper whose head was at her feet, she quickly holstered her pistol and ran for one of the speeders hovering off the building ledge. As she jumped onto one, droids and other Troopers came flooding towards her. Cranking the throttle, she took off across the Coruscant skyline.

After dumping the Police speeder near one of the vents, Arwen returned to the establishment owned by her client called Lanter’s Tavern. It was obvious she’d been set up; an arrangement made most likely so he wouldn’t have to pay her. It wasn’t a surprise, but needless to say, she would have preferred this transaction to have gone smoothly.

Walking across the first level of the bar, Arwen made her way towards the back hall. The client owned this bar, however it was more a front; operated by employees to keep authorities off of his scent.

Arwen swallowed, face still clothed in her dark grey, ragged hood, and cloth piece over her nose. The look was drawing eyes, but as soon as she made eye contact with any of them, they’d look away rather quickly. She wasn’t dressed like a civvy. Armored chest plate, shoulder, knee, and torso plating, rifle slung over her shoulder, blaster on her side and vibroblade attached to her boot- she looked like a gun for hire.

Her eyes snapped to the side when yelling flooded the room, and she quickly spotted a group of men cheering at one of the screenprojectors above the bar. This wasn’t one of the rowdier bars, but when certain pod races or other sporting events came on, it drew in crowds of the like.

One would assume it was just your average evening on Coruscant. Many of the people residing on the planet had essentially no idea just how the war was currently strangling the galaxy. Sure Coruscant had its own problems, but most of these people didn’t know. They were content to be here, ignorant to the trillions of others surrounded by war throughout the galaxy.

It was… a lonely feeling; being in the know in some manner while being surrounded by those with no knowledge of the conflict that had been at the center of her life until recently.

Continuing through the crowds to the other side of the large area, she was able to pass people virtually unnoticed until she began heading down the back hall. Graffiti was sparse but painted the walls here and there. It was a relatively clean establishment, just enough to blend with the top level of Coruscant at least.

As she walked down the dimly lit corridor, out of sight from others she pulled the hood off of her head and lowered the cloth covering her face. Turning the corner, she spotted a human male guard at the door. Upon seeing her, his eyes widened as he went to scramble for his blaster, currently holstered.

By the time Arwen was in front of him and he had the blaster pointed, she grabbed his wrist and yanked him forwards with enough force to cause his face to collide with her shoulder plate with a clang. He sputtered before dropping to the floor.

Stepping over the body, Arwen pushed the control on the wall to open the door. As soon as it opened, her eyes met the barrels of multiple blasters pointed in her direction. She eased to a stop, picking out the multiple individuals preventing her from entering before she heard the muttering of words coming from further inside the room.

“Let her in, let her in.” It was a familiar voice, the client.

Arwen waited for the hired protection of the client to ease their weapons. Her own posture was relatively relaxed, however at a moment's notice she could have her blaster in hand.

The individuals finally began stepping away, and Arwen waited until she had enough room before entering the converted office space, one calculated step after another. Her gaze dotted from one person to the next; a few Weequays -two male and one female- one male Nikto, one male human, and two Siniteens - male and female. All of them were armed.

“Well, I admit I didn’t expect to see you again. Alive at least, after taking that job.”

Arwen turned her attention to the individual sitting at a desk in the corner, a datapad now abandoned in front of him sitting on the desk.

“No thanks to you,” Arwen countered, hand resting over her belt as she met the eyes of the client.

“You’re lucky, mercenary.” The Belosar considered her for a moment, eyes wandering over her as if he was looking for a sign of wear or evidence that his attempt to get rid of her wasn’t a complete waste. A couple beats of silence followed before he gave a decided hum and stood from his seat. Even at a stand, he was small, only five feet, maybe a couple inches more; his skin was almost a sickly grey, common for Belosars, his antennapalps protruded from his dark locks.

A chuckle left his lips as he walked around his desk and past her, towards the right side of the room.

“You do drive a hard bargain for your services,” He tsked, waving a finger before going towards a large safe built into the wall.

“Well, you aren’t the first client to attempt to sell me out, Gerdon.” Arwen responded, notes of amusement on her tongue as she followed the Belosar with her eyes.

“I assume if you are here, and that you haven’t started shooting, that you have finished the job, yes?” The antennapalps atop his head twitched as he turned to look at her from around the safe door, which stood taller than him.

Belosars’ antennapalps gave them the ability to detect drastic emotional changes around them as well as immediate danger, so he already knew she wasn’t here to do him harm.

“You’d assume correct.” Arwen found her hands gripping her belt buckle as the client finally walked over with a small satchel that she assumed was full of credits. It better be at least.

He held it out and she went to grasp the strap of the satchel, noticing almost immediately how he wasn’t planning on letting go of the item.

Her gaze remained on his as she searched his expression, careful not to give anything away in her own as she waited.

She could feel the presence of the protection detail around her. They were on edge, and by what Arwen could tell, hadn’t received previous orders on how to handle the situation- meaning they were reacting off of whatever Gerdon was doing as each second passed.

If it was one thing she hadn’t been raised to deal with- it was these types of people. Not that she struggled; she knew how to navigate the life, but she’d experienced plenty of instances of learning on the go. So far not one client had questioned her validity as a mercenary or bounty hunter. Only a few had questioned her as they hadn’t seen her in the business prior, however it was an easy thing to explain. Big galaxy.

Sometimes it made her rethink just how good she was at the life… being a criminal. She’d received the best training in the galaxy and this is how she was using it… Then it would come back - why she was in this situation to begin with and how she’d come into the life.

Her eyes flicked towards some of the armed individuals before returning to Gerdon.

“I recall we discussed proof of your success being displayed upon your return?” He tried, spare hand drumming lightly on the satchel, the other gripping the other end of the strap.

“That was before you sold me out to the Republic.” Arwen stepped closer, causing a few of the surrounding hired guns to pull their weapons slowly. “You’ll see it on the Holonet News first light; given the Republic will allow the word to spread.”

The Galactic Republic had taken over the HoloNet News, or just HNN, shortly after the war broke out. Everything ran through them, as to ensure the CIS wasn’t aided in any potentially sensitive information. Despite that effort, there was a Separatist presence on Coruscant - hell on every Republic system - besides Kamino possibly; there were terrorist cells everywhere, and information was always being leaked. Arwen doubted things had changed at all since she… left.

“Either way, word’ll get to you.” Her voice was low and sharp as she maintained steady eye contact with the man, the height difference between them not going unnoticed as the Belosar shifted where he stood. She easily stood at around 5 feet, 9 inches and her footwear added an extra inch in the sole. This Belosar’s eyes barely met the top of her chest plate.

Gerdon considered her momentarily, his jaw tightens briefly before his lips pull back and he grins. Chuckling he released the satchel and pushed it into her grasp before patting the hand she’d been holding the strap with.

“Yes yes of course, it is only fair I suppose.” He appeared almost distracted as he headed back to his desk, shifting things on the tabletop surface as he went. “It is the pay we discussed. I threw a little extra in for your trouble.”

“How thoughtful.” Arwen couldn’t help the deadpan tone that leaked through her words.

“It was a pleasure,” The Belosar clasped his hands together, resting them on his desk once he had taken a seat. The silence that followed was a clear indication that she was excused.

Arwen watched him for a moment, using her peripheral vision to keep an eye on the hired protection in the room before bowing her head a fraction in response.

Satchel in her grasp, she went to leave, meeting the eyes of one of the Weequays before heading out of the office. She stepped over the still unconscious guard on the ground and continued down the hallway back towards the bar.

The breath that slipped out through her lips caused her stomach to tighten a fraction as she closed her eyes momentarily.

That was too close. If she didn’t have to worry about the heat from the authorities, she’d probably have dealt with that piece of rankweed Belosar; the only one of his kind she had met who wasn’t in the Death Stick trade. Gerdon was something of a coward, but could weasel his way out of a lot of problems. She’d been warned he might pull a stunt like that, but it still caught her off guard when it happened. Thankfully she was able to get away without hurting anyone.

Face now exposed, Arwen made a beeline for one of the more secluded bar counters at the back of the room where multiple bench seating areas resided. There were only a few other individuals at the bar, several seats down when she took a seat on the far right. Grabbing the rifle off of her back, she rested it against the bar between her and the wall before raising her hand in a small gesture for the bartender.

“Be there in a minute, girlie.” Ignoring the man’s words, Arwen gripped her fist with her right hand, resting her chin on her thumbs.

Despite feeling more at ease, her shoulders were still tight, and her back was tense. She needed to disappear for a while. After that phiasco, there would be bulletins out for her; she’d be on the HoloNet News probably. The police droids most likely snapped images of her; they’d have a loose idea of her face, but not enough to use recognition software. If she stayed low for a while, she might be able to stay on Coruscant but… She’d have to wait a long while before things cooled down. It might just be easier to leave. However she didn’t have enough loose credits to get off-world.

She squeezed her eyes shut for a brief moment before running a hand over her hair that was braided off to one side; her bangs were loose and tousled from the hood she’d since removed. Movement on the other side of the bar counter caused Corcer’s eyes to lift, and she met the gaze of a human male.

“What can i get you?”

“I’ll have an Ardees.” Something strong and bitter to ease her nerves.

“If you don’t want the nonalcoholic version, I’ll need to see some identification.” The man responded, resting one hand on the counter. Her previous job didn’t exactly give her an identification card, much like in the Republic’s military. That was something civilians had.

Arwen closed her eyes momentarily before looking the bartender in the eye. Letting on hand slide away from the counter and to her lap.

“I just finished a job with Gerdon; that should be enough.” Arwen countered. If you knew the name, it was essentially a pass. This bar was named Lanter’s because that was the façade Gerdon used, and if you knew his real name you were involved in his work.

The bartender’s expression flickered with mild uncertainty before he gave a curt nod and went to prepare the drink.

Feeling her expression soften a bit, Arwen let her gaze fall to the counter before she returned both arms to the surface, balancing her elbows on the edge.

Putting off a threatening vibe to everyone she came into contact with was tiresome; infuriating at times. It wasn’t really who she was, but she had plenty of anger to expel, which made it easier on days like this. That aside, most of these people were rotten anyhow.

The satchel settled in her lap, Arwen tapped her thumb against the back of the other as she waited. Letting her gaze bounce subtly around at the space off to her left, she lingered on a few different individuals before drawing her attention back.

“Look a little tense there, kid.” The bartender announced, setting a glass down before pouring the liquid.

Arwen waited until he was finished and had pushed the glass closer before she grabbed it and downed it. She hid the grimace as the liquid burned her throat for a moment before setting it down with a grumble.

“Close call on a job.” She decided to say. Bartenders sometimes made small talk; it was harmless enough and this guy wasn’t giving off a deceptive vibe. She could always tell that about people; read their character, at least in the moment. Something her squa… it was something some people she used to know would call her ‘special power’.

“I’ve had my fair share of ones like you coming out with that look.” The man gestured towards her with the bottle of Ardees. “Boss sell you out on a job?”

Arwen eyed him for a moment, considering her options before giving a slight twitch of her eyebrow. “I’m sitting here aren’t I?”

“That you are,” He chuckled, going to pour more of the bitter liquid into her glass once she had held it out. Filling the glass he set the bottle of Ardees down close enough for her to reach before patting the counter. “Help yourself, kid.”

Arwen simply gestured towards him with the glass before going to drink down more of the strong liquid.

Once he walked away, she set the glass back down and cleared her throat. It had been months since she’d adopted the façade, but she still wasn’t used to the amount of alcohol she’d find herself consuming at times; even to appear to blend in with the criminal/low life element. The nature of her previous-... job… Prevented her from drinking often. And even then she didn’t really have a need to. Now she found herself with the occasional drink just to calm her nerves. Thankfully she could hold herself pretty well after consuming alcohol.

Swallowing the remnants of the bitterness in her mouth, Arwen went to raise the glass again.

“Hey- the Commander wants us back by 2300.”

Her hand froze before the glass reached her lips, parted lips closing as she clenched her jaw. Keeping her posture where it was, Arwen looked out of the corner of her eye, turning her head only a fraction to the left as she quickly spotted the source of the familiar voice.

“Of all the bars you could think of - you chose this one? Seems a little… dicey.” Arwen spotted the four clone troopers heading to an oval shaped bar area in the center of the room, their backs to her as they came to the counter.

“Maybe so, but not as bad as The Nexu’s Den; I heard they don’t even serve clones.”

“79s serves clones, and its not down here in the-”

“Don’t get your blacks in a bunch, this place is fine. The Corporal says he’s been here with some guys; they didn’t have any problems.”

Turning back to face the counter, Arwen’s grip on the glass in her hand tightened momentarily.

These guys were on break. The authorities probably hadn’t even processed the incident involving her yet. And by the armor markings- these guys were probably back on leave. They wouldn’t be a problem. But all the same… She needed to leave.

Grabbing some credits from the satchel, Arwen waved the bartender over before putting the small pile of money down, discreetly sliding it towards him.

He took it with a nod but quickly noticed the amount far surpassed the bill for her drink.

“I- kid-”

“I wasn’t here.” Arwen cut him off, searching his expression for a sign of reassurance to her comment.

The bartender processed her words before ultimately giving a small dip of his chin, carefully moving the credits to his pocket.

Arwen patted the counter and gave him a nod in return before getting to her feet. Swiftly swinging the rifle over her shoulder and securing the satchel, she began heading out of the bar.

Her eyes drift off towards the soldiers at one of the main bars, all seemingly enjoying themselves and toasting their drinks.

At the sound of their laughs she clenched her jaw and looked away before continuing out of the establishment. Before her thoughts could dwell too much on her past however, a medium sized ball of fur suddenly crowded her at the entrance to Lanter’s Tavern.

“Hey Bek,” Arwen chuckled, kneeling a fraction to greet the anooba happily panting, hindquarters shaking with excitement. Kneeling down onto one knee, Arwen rustled the fur around his neck before leaning back in surprise at the smell of the animal’s breath.

“Whoa- what did you get into?” Arwen can’t help the smile that broke across her face as she got to her feet once more. “C’mon bud,” Heading down the walkway outside of the tavern, the Anooba followed eagerly. “Let’s get something to eat.”

It was around 2200 by the time Arwen got to her basecamp for the night. She couldn’t stay in a hostel because of Bek; most establishments didn’t allow animals, and even then, she couldn’t trust such establishments to be safe - especially with the heat that could be coming down on her soon.

Fishing into the bag of food, Arwen pulled a couple of nuna jerky strips, holding one out to the Anooba who was waiting patiently.

She felt the smile tug at her lips as Bek didn’t waste time in beginning to chew on the meat. Lifting her own strip, Arwen peeled off a small piece before tossing it into her mouth. Her eyes rose to trace the skyline of Coruscant. Sometimes it looked alright… Right now it didn’t look too bad. The lights that covered the planet contrasted with the darkness of the sky; the lines of traffic were relatively calm; rush hour was long past. From her perch on the roof of a building she could see several notable structures, as well as multiple Republic cruisers in the distance.

The sight of one Republic cruiser in particular caught her eye as it departed from the cruiser staging area; a Venator-class star destroyer. The familiar rumble of the engines of the large ship made her chest tighten as she stared longingly after the vessel as it took off towards the atmosphere.

Drawing her eyes away, Arwen continued to pull at her jerky, putting a small bite-sized piece into her mouth. After giving a moment to consider it, she put the food away, having lost her appetite and pulled the satchel into her lap.

She felt the warm breath of Bek panting and looked up at him with an eyebrow raised.

“You had your share, mister.” The anooba only gave a small bark of protest before beginning his circles to lie down.

Opening the satchel, Arwen looked over the credits and tousled them a bit before nodding to herself. It was more than she really needed. Not nearly enough to get off world, but half of it had a home to go to.

“Looks like we’ll have to hitch a ride to Saleucami, bud.” Arwen looked down at Bek, who had since curled up in a ball beside her.

His head perked up at her words, ears standing at attention before his mouth fell open and he began panting again.

Scratching along the standing fur of his back, Arwen gave her companion some well-deserved attention for a few minutes before resting back against the sloped structure acting as her bed for the night. One thing from her training she didn’t take for granted- learning to sleep anywhere and everywhere.

The Anooda next to her stretched his legs out, giving a yawn that showed off all of his teeth, and absence of the large front tooth, before settling back down. She had found him early on when she arrived on Coruscant. She had come across him while on a job, the target had ties to the animal trade; but when she found Bek, it was obvious he’d been used for dog fighting. He’d had his front tooth removed, a vital defense mechanism against other predators. Since the job he’d followed her around ever since; disappearing at times when she had jobs, but popping up hours later just as happy to see her.

Adjusting her head where she laid, Arwen let her eyes gaze up towards the night sky. It was settled. She’d head off-word; get to the outer rim or at least away from the core words for a bit. She could head to Saleucami and meet up there with a friend before getting back to it.

The Next Day…

She’d been to countless establishments - too many - looking for work. She needed a big payout to get off-world and she needed it fast. She was getting desperate. She’d visited at least two dozen locations now, and dealers and contacts that usually had plenty of jobs were coming up empty, or with jobs with too little a payout.

There would be plenty of work in the outer rim, but getting there was the problem. Just hiring someone to get you there, in the middle of a war no less, was the problem. The only stipulation she had was how job offers would change the further from “civilized planets” she got; it would be harder to stay anonymous as a gun for hire out there. Regardless of that risk- she needed to get away from the Republic before they started tying her to any jobs. If they knew some of the jobs she’d taken out… One could just say she wouldn’t see the outside of a prison cell for the rest of her life.

Not that she took “bad” jobs. She had been relatively consistent in keeping her jobs focused on the vile and corrupt; it was her methods of dealing with those people that the authorities wouldn’t agree with. And her… history with the Republic Military wouldn’t help matters.

Coming to a slow stop outside of one of the last establishments she’d come to know, Arwen found her eyes meeting the sign above the building: One Round - just your average dicey bar, however like many of the businesses, there was always some morally grey business going on the side. Your average civilian would see the name of a bar like that and assume it meant one round of drinks, which it did. But in the criminal world, it also stood for one literal round, as in ammunition. She’d gotten some credible leads from the bartender that ran the establishment. Hopefully he had something.

Walking inside, Arwen was quick to notice it was quite busy; more so than she’d expect it to be for the late afternoon. Bek trotted along at her side as she made her way to the back of the room where she knew Ramic, the bartender, would be. He seemed to spot her in the sea of people before she even did, and he waved her over to one end of the bar that was less crowded.

“Corcer,” He gave her a small acknowledgement as she stepped up to the counter and leaned forward onto it, not bothering to take a seat.

“Ramic,” Arwen responded in return, watching as he went about cleaning several glasses that littered the back counter.

“You lookin for the usual? Cause I hate to tell ya this, but I-”

“Actually, I’m looking for something a bit- stronger,” Arwen chose her words carefully as she watched the bartender’s movement and shifting expression.

He seemed to process her statement for a moment before looking over towards her.

“Stronger eh?”

Corcer dipped her head in response, forearms supporting her weight on the bar counter as Bek seated himself near her feet, facing away from the bar and towards the crowd.

“... I might have something.” He seemed to be considering his words, his voice grew quieter. “It’s no easy feat I warn ya. Few others tried it, and it was a little too much for their tastes.”

Shifting her weight around so her hands could clasp in front of her while she leaned on the counter, Arwen thought quietly to herself.

Most likely a high risk job. That might come with heat. She needed to be careful. Accept the wrong job and she could be in serious trouble.

“Have any other details?” She tried.

He gives her a small shake of his head, setting a couple more glasses down behind the counter.

“Sorry, kid. That’s all I know.”

Arwen nodded in response, the movement turning into a head shake as she internally cursed herself.

“Haar'chak - I’ll give it a shot.”

Ramic seemed hesitant, brow knit and hesitant eyes searched her for a brief time before he finally nodded and gestured towards the door a ways away from the bar.

“Your man is back there.”

Arwen looked to him and then the door, seeing two guards. Standing up straight, she quickly tipped Ramic with what credits she had in her pocket before heading over. She didn’t miss the nod he gave to the guards, most likely a signal to her let pass.

They stepped aside and Arwen walked through the space and down a small hall. She’d never taken a job directly through One Round before. Usually Ramic would point her in the direction of work, but it never originated out of the bar. He owned the establishment; unless things had changed recently.

Coming to the end of the hall, Arwen stopped at the final door. The muffled sound of the music from the other room was still within hearing range, but quiet enough that there must be sound dampeners within the walls of the hall and possibly the doors as well. Not a good sign.

Arwen looked down at Bek, seeing the anooba looking at her expectantly.

“You ready?” She deadpanned, cocking an eyebrow.

The animal stepped back and forth between paws, something he did when excited before giving a small bark.

She breathed out sharply through her nose in amusement before nodding.

“At least someone is.” She mumbled to herself before pushing the control panel button for the door. It slid up with ease, and she quickly met the gazes of multiple individuals. The majority of them were human, however there was a Duros present, and a Rodian. Just by body language and appearance, she quickly picked out the potential client, and when her gaze landed on him expectantly, he seemed mildly impressed.

“If Ramic let you in, you must be fit for the job.” He evaluated her momentarily, gaze lingering on Bek for a moment before returning to her eyes.

“Care to enlighten me? Ramic was pretty sparse on the details.” Arwen cocked her head to the side lightly, taking a few steps into the room. Getting comfortable in her stance, she rested her hands on her belt.

“Forgive him on that account,” The man had his hands clasped as he took a seat adjacent to a desk, facing her. “The nature of this task demands a certain level of delicacy. We can’t just have the details flying around, I assume you understand this.”

He was rather pale in his complexion, dark hair and a somewhat square jaw. He had a strong but almost dainty build, dark eyes and hair shaven down low to his scalp; didn’t look like the type to handle dirty work himself, but certainty had the deep pockets to have someone else do so. He evoked a certain confidence, but also perniciousness; it wasn’t enough to make her uncomfortable, but certainly cautious. There was something off about this job, she could already feel it.

“Of course,” Arwen appeased him with the response, and he seemed somewhat delighted, but remained eerily at ease as he rose from his seat.

“I need explosives planted at a certain location. A few have attempted other locations of the like, however they haven’t yet had success.”

Arwen swallowed in an effort to prepare herself to speak. This wasn’t the kind of job she was looking for.

“Where would this location be?” She asked.

“Destabilization is the key.” He all but ignored her question and continued with his subtle monologue.

“Enough with the dramatics,” Arwen cut him off, causing him to slowly turn with a soured expression. “What is the job?” Her tone leaked with mild agitation, expression relaxed but set hard in a display of confident frustration.

His eyes fell to her boots, and to Bek for a moment before they rose once more and he pulled a hand-held holoprojector. Activating the device, a hologram of a location rose into the room. The space was dark enough that she could easily make out what was in front of her and she felt a cold sweat start to bead between her shoulder blades beneath her armor plating.

“That’s a Republic Military base.” She stated, looking the hologram over further despite not needing to second guess before turning her eyes to the client.

“Indeed it is,” He responded. “My superiors would like to see a blow struck to it. We need someone to go in and plant the devices in suitable locations; casualty high locations are preferred; barracks, mess halls, weapons depot... Locations that will shake the Republic's stability, and hurt its military power here on Coruscant; but most importantly, weaken the people’s faith in the Republic’s military might.”

Arwen was quickly thinking it over in her head as he spoke. No easy way out of this situation. If she turned the job down, it was very likely that they'd kill her right here. This could be a Separatist cell, it was a likely candidate. However it could also be a crime faction. Didn't seem Hutt related, although she couldn't eliminate that possibility.

Taking in a steady breath, Arwen pulled her eyes away from the projection to meet the eyes of the client.

Ramic, needless to say, was caught off guard when Arwen slumped down into one of the stools in front of the bar.

“Well, how’d it go?” He puffed out a hard breath with amusement before going to pour something into a glass.

“You could’ve given me a little insight into my lack of choice in this job once I entered that room, Ramic” She offered, gesturing back with a thumb over her shoulder.

He gave her a subtly apologetic look before setting the glass down in front of her. “Sorry, kid, but if I told people that, then they wouldn’t be interested.” He chuckled and Arwen couldn’t help but do the same, however it was more so from the nerves if anything.

“How’s it looking?” He leaned on the counter for a moment as Arwen took the glass and downed the drink rather quickly. He watched curiously before his brow knit and he pulled his lip tight. “That bad?”

“Worse. I’m not looking for that kinda heat; I get caught or this goes sideways and… It’s not looking great.” She tried to sum it up simply, but couldn’t really find the words. She still needed to process this herself, and also beat herself upside the head with something.

Finishing the glass of the alcoholic beverage, Arwen set it down and patted the counter.

“Thanks for the tip.” As playfully reluctant as her tone may have been, the man seemed apologetic.

“Good luck, kid.”

Arwen pulled out some more credits, covering both the drink but also the job tip before giving him a lazy two finger salute. Briefly looking down at Bek, she made her way out of the bar.

The client, who didn’t even provide a name, had given her a set of coordinates. Once there, she’d meet up with one of his associates who would provide her with the supplies she’d need to carry out the job.

As she walked the upper streets and walkways of Coruscant she finally came to the end of the road. She’d call an air taxi and get relatively close to where she needed to go. Her eyes catch the sign above a building and she quickly realizes where she is; she’d been walking so blindly and ended up in the last place she should be.

The weakening daylight did little to dull the sign that blinked in bright neon colors: 79s. She knew it was one of the clone tolerant bars, even before hearing a trooper mention it last night.

Feeling her back begin to tense, Arwen searched the skyline for incoming traffic, but found no air taxis in site.

“Great.” She muttered to herself. She could be here a while.

Her rifle disassembled and hidden away in the satchel she’d acquired, she blended in alright. No one was paying her too much mind thankfully.

The various sounds, including the humming and rumbling of ships and speeders in the sky, as well as the chatter around her and music coming from the bar was distracting, but not enough to put her completely on edge. If anything she felt exposed where she was, it was pretty open and being at the corner of the walkway waiting for an air taxi was something she didn’t enjoy doing.

Her ears perked slightly, picking out familiar voices in particular.

She cursed quietly through her teeth before glancing to her right, seeing several troopers a ways down the walk, huddled near the railing of the walkway. A woman was cozying up to one of them.

Her interest perked, Arwen allowed herself to watch quietly as the woman let her hands glide along the torso and chest plating of the trooper who looked especially nervous but equally exhilarated as the troopers around him seemed increasingly amused by the event unfolding.

Arwen couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at her lips before she forced herself to look away with a slight shake of her head. It was innocent enough.

A couple moments passed, and Arwen felt a nagging feeling tugging at her to look again. Finally giving into the temptation, she spared a glance towards the troopers and the woman, only to have her eyebrows jump in surprise.

She watched as the woman slipped a hand into one of the pockets of the trooper’s belt while he was distracted, snatching a few credits.

Arwen felt her lips part in disarray and astonishment. As if those men had anything to begin with, you've got pickpockets preying on them now.

The woman coddled him a little more before walking away in Corcer’s direction.

“Unfortunate,” Arwen muttered before adjusting the grip she had on her belt buckle. Taking a small step back, Arwen waited until the woman was close enough before smoothly and intentionally taking a wide step, tripping the woman and causing her to fall and the credits to go flying.

The woman let out a startled cry as she landed awkwardly on her stomach, hands splayed out towards where the credits fell out of her reach.

Arwen took several steps around the woman and picked up the scattered credits. People in the vicinity had noticed and the woman went to snap at Arwen once she got to her feet, but backed off once she got a better look. While Arwen was being rather discreet in her clothing, she still looked like a hired gun. That was for sure.

Bek growled at her side, catching the woman’s attention as she seemed infuriated, quickly disappeared into the crowd, hands balled in fists. Rolling the credits around in her palm, Arwen hesitated a moment before taking a deep breath. Here goes nothing.

“How much did you have on you?” She turned, walking towards the troopers who still wore expressions of surprise.

“What?” One asked, familiar brown eyes wide. He was the one the woman was getting handsy with.

“Credits,” She reaffirmed. “How much did you have on you?” She tossed them lightly in her hand.

“Um,” He swallowed and stuttered a bit further, subconsciously going for his pocket before he swallowed, trying to recall as his comrades looked on with amusement.

Arwen took the moment the soldier was processing his thoughts to look him over. He looked so young. He must be pretty fresh off Kamino; the troopers with him looked about the same.

“Here,” She took the opportunity of him being distracted to lightly grab his wrist and push the handful of credits into his hand. It was probably three or four times as much as he originally had on him. “Watch those pockets, boys, alright?” She warned, a little taken off guard by the warmth in her own voice before she turned to leave.

“Th-Thanks,” The statement was called after her. “Don’t tell the Sarg.” The second statement came quieter and Arwen smiled.

“When we get back to base you’re gonna-”

The smile fell away and Arwen drew her attention off of the soldiers. The base… right. The one she was about to…

She walked for a while back the way she had come before finally grabbing an air taxi. After briefly squabbling with the driver over Bek’s presence, she finally got the Sullustan to take her where she needed to go. By the time she arrived at the destination, it was around sunset, and she met the associate on the roof of a building at the edge of the newly added Military district. The Republic’s main military base was within view; still under construction. It wasn’t the target she was being hired to hit. There were other military bases in the area.

The Quarren seemed curious regarding her, or maybe surprised.

He chuckled as he handed over a large cloth bag full of the ordnance she’d need.

“Good luck,” He muttered before walking away.

Arwen felt somewhat sick as she held the bag strap in an iron grip before looking over her shoulder as the being left.

“Take as long as you need. But it shouldn’t take more than a few days tops.”

She clenched her jaw before reluctantly returning her gaze to the Coruscant skyline ahead, towards one of the GAR bases that was in view, but much farther than the base currently under construction.

She gritted her teeth briefly before shaking her head, letting her voice slip out in a whisper. “What are you doing?”

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CHAPTER NOTE: Been stumbling over this chapter for a while, and I hope it turned out well! Getting Arwen’s introduction right has been causing me anxiety for a while so I hope she seems intriguing? Next chapter should be up soon! Next week with luck on my side 😁

Support in the form of a comment or reblog is very much appreciated if you had fun reading :)

#my fic #my writing #clone wars fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #clones #grand army of the republic #star wars ocs #clone wars ocs #jedi #republic military #coruscant #79s #galaxy far far away

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