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valemya · 2 months

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Pairing: Tech x Vale Bridger (OC/DRself) Words: 1,613 Summary: "Garia had been a lovely planet, all things considered. The scenery would’ve been holo-worthy had it not been for the makeshift separatist stronghold erected dead centre on the horizon, conveniently obscuring their view of the planet’s lush, grassy hills on approach. Vale would’ve taken the opportunity to snap a holo *after* the ensuing battle, but there wasn’t much beauty in the patches of scorched grass and upturned soil littered with the carcasses of battle droids, if you could call those scrap heaps anything resembling a formerly living being. Nonetheless, the mission objective had been completed. Now she could use the downtime to get some relaxation of her own; the source of it no doubt tapping away at the various consoles in the cockpit just out of sight from where she was leaning against some precariously stacked crates." --- Tech and Vale have a quiet post-mission conversation in the cockpit of the Marauder.

Cross-posted on Ao3 here.

Garia had been a lovely planet, all things considered. The scenery would’ve been holo-worthy had it not been for the makeshift separatist stronghold erected dead centre on the horizon, conveniently obscuring their view of the planet’s lush, grassy hills on approach. Vale would’ve taken the opportunity to snap a holo after the ensuing battle, but there wasn’t much beauty in the patches of scorched grass and upturned soil littered with the carcasses of battle droids, if you could call those scrap heaps anything resembling a formerly living being.

Nonetheless, the mission objective had been completed. She thought it best not to think about the environmental damage left behind in the aftermath of such conflicts.

She hadn’t been with her own battalion for this one, the 501st staying behind on Coruscant for some well earned rest and relaxation while she jetted off to assist Clone Force 99 in their specialised mission. They hadn’t needed her assistance, not really, but she figured the request for her “necessary expertise” on the mission had been a half-sincere, half-banthashit attempt to make a routine op just a bit more entertaining for them all. Not like she was going to complain- it beat sitting around on Coruscant doing fuck all waiting for the next directive.

Besides, she was certain she’d find the time to get some relaxation of her own; the source of it no doubt tapping away at the various consoles in the cockpit just out of sight from where she was leaning against some precariously stacked crates.

After the mission she’d let him be for a while, giving him time to sit in the cockpit and decompress in his natural element. No better way to unwind than rewiring some finicky gadget, or whatever he was up to in there. After boarding she’d taken to some light conversation with the rest of the batch as they began to unload a few of their belongings, nothing really having much of a designated home amidst the clutter. She didn’t have anything of her own to put away, let alone her own space to deposit it, but she opted to unclip her lightsaber and place it on Tech’s bunk. Sure, she liked having it on her at all times, but it felt a bit awkward standing there doing nothing while everyone else was putting things away. And if she happened to forget it on the ship, well, that was just as good an excuse as any for her to come back around and see him later.

Vale had been standing and quietly chatting with Hunter and Echo for a while, engaged in idle conversation as they prepared for their sleep shift, graciously offering up a bunk for her to rest too. Besides the fact she questioned the dubious cleanliness of the sleeping mat, she didn’t care all that much for sleeping in this present moment. Not when she hadn’t been able to spend much “alone time” with Tech for the past weeks because of their continually clashing schedules.

Her conversation with the two of them reached a lull, and Vale left them to go off to bed with a polite “Goodnight, and good job today” before heading up to check in on her boyfriend.

Tech was deep in focus, giving all his attention to the multiple screens in front of him displaying detailed star charts and hyperspace routes, likely running his own calculations on the most efficient route to Coruscant. It was a very standard planet to navigate to, considering it was the core. Virtually every hyperspace route led to it in some way, interconnected by a mass of lanes you could enter at any point and follow along until you reached your destination, or the end of charted space.

Vale thought of her connection to the force in a similar way; every living being a destination along the expanse of a thread, a thread that loops and crosses over, and doubles back, that she could locate and traverse until she found the being she was trying to reach. Similar to the hyperspace routes indeed. Yet, unlike the bounds of wild space, the end of the line for charted territory, she held no concept of a definitive “end” to her thread. What she had discovered in recent years was that, much like the galaxy had a centre, a certain marker for the core of the known universe, she too, had a centre. She had, perhaps against her philosophy, expected that centre to lie within herself, but it was now abundantly clear to her that this was not the case. It was not her at the centre of this thread- it was him.

And she always seemed to find herself the most grounded at her centre.

It didn’t appear like he’d noticed her presence yet, she had a habit of walking a bit too quietly and unintentionally scaring the living daylights out of people. Lingering off to his side, she waited a moment and watched as he tapped away at his datapad before placing a gentle hand on his shoulder to unobtrusively announce her arrival. Solid plastoid met her fingertips and she instinctively gave a reassuring squeeze, the muscle memory paying no mind to the physical barrier that separated him from her touch.

Not redirecting his attention too far from the screen, he offered her a quick glance before readjusting his goggles that had begun to slide down the bridge of his nose slightly. Vale thought that half the amount of times he reached up to adjust them they hadn’t even budged from their position on his face at all, he just fiddled with them purely out of habit.

“We will be on track to Coruscant shortly,” he said, “I am just double checking I have planned the most efficient route for us to take. Garia is not situated in a major hyperspace lane… I have concluded we will actually save time by diverting our course to Bacrana and entering the Corellian Run from that entry point, as opposed to following the lesser-known path directly from here.”

Her hand removed itself from his shoulder as she casually leaned against the backrest of the pilot’s seat, humming a quick “ah” in agreement as if she knew anything about the minor hyperspace routes surrounding the planet.

“And you figured this out yourself? If only you were as good at judging the appropriate speed to come in for landings as you are at calculating hyperspace routes…” she trailed off, purposely avoiding his annoyed gaze and laughing to herself about the playful tease.

It wasn’t a genuine rile up, of course, but some of his rougher landings across various bases came to mind; like that time on Anaxes he’d sped toward the landing strip a little too close for comfort, practically bowling over some of her men on the ground and managing to upturn dozens of newly delivered storage crates.

Of course she was the one who copped her head supply officer’s lengthy complaint, not Tech.

“My landings are adequate.” He replied, finally putting the datapad down to rest on his lap as his hands moved deftly across the ship’s controls, preparing for the jump to hyperspace.

Vale couldn’t help but smile at that. “Really? I can think of a few occasions you’ve come in too hot and nearly taken out a communications array or two.”

That earned her a faux-death glare as he sat hunched over the panel, briefly pausing his taps on the buttons and switches to hold the look for a few seconds before he broke, a mischievous glimmer curiously rising in his eyes and dissolving his frown.

But he wouldn’t admit defeat, as much as he knew her comment about his landings was mostly true.

“I have never taken out a communications array,” he retaliated, “I happen to have very good piloting skills, actually. My landings are completed with incredible accuracy.”

It was true of course, but Vale was committed now.

“I don’t know… You’re a bit wobbly with the steering at times. Could be a little smoother.” she said, crossing her arms and purposely avoiding looking in his direction.

“Not me though.” she added. “Being a good pilot is in the Bridger bloodline.”

Being a good pilot was definitely not in the Bridger bloodline- she recalled her parents being decidedly average pilots, if she was being honest. The only thing giving her a bit of an edge when she flew was the fact she had the force. She imagined a lot of those close calls in her starfighter would’ve been totally fatal had she not had the innate sense that alerted her to impending danger.

She could pretend she was born to be a good pilot though, for the sake of acting like she had anything over Tech.

He sat back in his seat for a second, momentarily straightening his posture out a bit after he finished readying the ship’s controls.

“I’ll be a Bridger when we get married. That will count.” He said nonchalantly, pushing forward the lever to send the Marauder into hyperspace like he hadn’t just delivered the smoothest line Vale had ever heard.

A sudden warmth spread across her face at that, an accompanying sensation of butterflies arising in her core and settling into a new home in the very essence of her being.

“You’d better get some more practice in before then.” she replied, unable and unwilling to reign in her adoring smile as she looked down at him.

He huffed out a quick laugh and turned the seat to look at her fully for the first time in their interaction, a small smile on his face at Vale’s easy response. She knew he meant it.

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