#Jedi Knight/Theron Shan

[storyknitter]

The ever-lovely @commander-sarahs-art had commissions open and I couldn’t resist getting a piece with my favorite battle couple (in any universe).

Behold! Prince Theron and his Sentinel bodyguard, Vassanna, in the medieval fantasy AU that has lived in my head rent-free for the last year.

#brb screaming #lovely art as always #Oct 3rd was the day that starknstarwars went 'what would Sanna be in a fantasy AU?' and it's all been downhill from there #(and by 'downhill' i mean 'awesome') #and I thought it was highly appropriate that Sarah sent this over on the 3rd <3 #Theron Shan #Jedi Knight/Theron Shan #(sorta) #oc: Vassanna #OTP: Chips & Guac #medieval fantasy AU #MF!AU #OMG LOOK AT THEM #they look SO badass #I do sincerely love that The Jacket morphs into a medieval tunic so well #*heart eyes* #art for me!

[dirthara-dalen]

Been meaning to make this post for a while now but I wanted to make one about Ligastar and Theron's family relationships post KOTET. It go quite long so to save people's dash's its under the cut. Ligastar is referred to as Father while Theron is just dad.

Once everything is said and done Levi is actually the one to pursue mending his relationship with his father. When Theron had told him that Ligastar was alive he refused to believe it at first. He had come to terms with his fathers 'death' three years prior. In order to make up for lost time Levi felt he needed to initiate the healing process as it was clear that Ligastar was still as stubborn as ever.

This resulted in them having a very close relationship which Levi is grateful for. He hopes to fully make up the time they lost as father and son one day. When Theron 'defecated' Levi was beyond horrified and stood by his father during the entire fiasco. He was greatly relieved when Ligastar revealed that everything was ruse. Levi has taken it upon himself to keep tabs on his dad to prevent this from happening again.

Unlike Levi, Mar never accepted their fathers death. While this did bring him closer to his dad it eventually caused a rift. Mar succumbed to the dark side rather quickly despite Theron trying to protect him from it. Mar fled to imperial space and did see his parents again until KOTFE. By that point he was known as the new Lord Kallig. After being nearly killed by Vaylin he reevaluated his life priorities and called his parents to Mek-sha for a meeting.

There, in front of his own family, he was finally able to reconnect with a part of his life that he didn't realize was missing. He decided to spend more time with Levi as well in order to reestablish their bond. When Theron 'defected' Mar didn't know what to do. He knew Theron was lying, he could literally see it. During his time in the empire he had been trained in the art of force sight by Jaesa. The whole situation was confusing for him but he supported his father throughout the ordeal. He did give Theron about being stupid alongside Levi. Deep down, however, when he saw what had happened to his dad he felt like a scared little boy. He had only just gotten his family back, he refused to lose anyone ever again. He spend hours with other healers working to save Theron's life as he knew how too. Without realizing it, he healed the rift between them as well.

Lilith is about 5 or 6 at the end of KOTFE...and the relationship status is not good. Lana had given her to Solaris and Ryn to raise while she searched for Ligastar. This resulted in her coming to believe they were her parents. When Ligastar came to meet her at long last since it was now 'safe'. She ran from him, refusing to meet him as she believed he was going to take her away. Theron had warned Ligastar about this prior to meeting her. After reintroducing himself to her as her uncle it was clear she accepted that but was scared of him. Neither Ligastar or Theron has spoken to her since.

#swtor #the starwing legacy #jedi knight/theron shan #ligastar/theron

[meanbihexual]

for the soft prompts, "kissing their lover’s knuckles"

Oh my god it's been 3 months since you asked this. I'm so sorry, I'm like a snail trying to escape from molasses. But I really enjoyed writing this, so thank you for the prompt! (Also, I wrote some of this from Theron's PoV and I'll probably post it later after I have time to clean it up because I think it's funny.)

Stupidity, or, How to Tell Your Jedi Girlfriend You Got into a Fistfight

Rating: E

Pairing: Theron Shan/Safiya Adraiel (f!Jedi Knight)

The light side of the Force did not breathe easily on Yavin IV. Centuries of darkness, of every centimeter of this jungle moon steeping in the hatred and madness of Vitiate and his most devoted, had transformed it into a gaping wound that oozed cold tendrils of dread into the very air that surrounded it. Even for a Jedi Master, experienced in both the ways of the dark side and the former Sith Emperor as Safi was, finding the light here was a long, slogging battle.

From the moment that Republic troops had landed in the section of jungle that had been selected to house their camp, it became apparent that something was going to have to be done about the ever-present darkness. Their side of the Coalition simply wasn’t used to this sort of energy, and after the first day planetside, when 38 fights, 162 instances of insubordination, and “a frankly ridiculous amount” of unprompted crying fits were reported, Grandmaster Satele charged the Jedi with doing whatever they were able to mitigate the effects on themselves and their comrades.

Which was why Safi now found herself, tired and stiff, sitting cross-legged on her camp bed and trying to shake off the aftereffects of several hours of largely fruitless meditation. Her attempts to soothe and sway the Force into something less oppressive hadn’t made much progress tonight, but she supposed that was only to be expected. Anything that was going to be easily influenced would already have been taken care of in the last few weeks, and what was left was going to take considerably more effort.

For now, though, there was no sense in continuing to throw herself at the problem; she had exhausted her mind this evening, and she needed to get out of her head, to exercise physical muscles instead of mental.

She was so drained that she didn’t even notice Theron’s approach until the security panel at the door of her tent chimed and he ducked under the flap, turning to secure it once more after he stepped through. Since their time on Rishi, when she had stopped fighting the attraction that had been growing between them since their first meeting, her awareness of him through the Force had grown quickly. If he was anywhere near his presence flamed across her senses like a supernova that she couldn’t ignore if she tried. That he had been able to surprise her at all was a testament to how thoroughly she had worn herself out.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she started, stretching her neck side to side as she spoke. “I need—” She broke off suddenly as Theron turned to her and she got her first real look at him. The beginnings of what would likely be a nasty bruise blossomed across his left jaw and cheekbone, and his lip on the same side was split and swollen. His jacket was off, draped over one arm, and the white shirt he wore was dirty and torn in several places. Splotches of blood stained the hem on the right side, Safi guessed due to his hand, which was wrapped in the fabric and pressed against his torso.

She stood hurriedly, crossing the short distance between them in a few quick steps. Standing before him, her hand came up to his face, fingers hovering just centimeters over his bruised skin.

“What happened?” she asked, concern and dismay winding through her words.

Theron lifted his uninjured hand and rubbed it across the back of his neck, looking distinctly sheepish as he spoke.

“I got in a fight.”

“A fight?” Safi echoed, raising a brow in disbelief and drawing back slightly. She moved to cross her arms, changed her mind halfway through, and motioned to the bed instead.

“Sit down. I’ll get the med kit, and you can tell me what happened while I patch you up.”

She could hear the change in her voice, the tone that had morphed from caring to something much less sympathetic after his admission, but she was at a loss to do anything about it. Of all the explanations he could have offered, a fight was the last thing she had expected. What could have possessed him…but maybe she was being unfair. It was possible it had been completely legitimate, she reasoned as she moved to the locker on the back wall of the tent, opening it and removing a small med kit. She should give him a chance to explain.

Returning to the bed and sitting down in front of him, she opened the case, removing a small tube of kolto gel and breaking the seal. Squeezing a dollop onto two fingers, she began to gently dab the medicine onto his bruised face.

“So?” she prompted as she worked.

Theron sighed, and her faint hopes for a reasonable explanation evaporated as she watched his face contort with embarrassment.

“Please tell me it wasn’t with an Imperial,” Safi continued when he remained silent for another moment.

He started to shake his head before seeming to remember that she needed him to stay still.

“No,” he said instead. “A Republic soldier.”

Safi squeezed out more kolto and moved from his cheek to his split lip. Theron hissed as the kolto made contact with the open wound and she winced.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, trying to keep her touch as gentle as possible. “I know it stings.”

Theron reached out and laid his good hand on her knee.

“It’s okay,” he assured her, self-deprecation heavy in his voice. “My fault for getting in a fight, not yours.”

“Can’t argue with that,” she answered, a tiny smile flitting across her face. “I’m done with your face. Let’s see that hand.”

Theron unwound the hem of shirt from around his fingers and held his hand out to Safi, who took it in her own and examined it closely. The middle knuckles of all four fingers were split and sluggishly oozing blood; the shirt seemed to have slowed but not stopped the bleeding. Bruises spread both up and down from the wounds, and his pointer finger sat crookedly in a way that she was sure meant it was broken.

“I thought you SIS agents would know how to throw a punch without hurting yourself,” she mused, rummaging through the med kit for cleaning solution and bandages.

“I know how to punch,” Theron huffed. He muttered a colorful string of curses under his breath as Safi began the arduous process of cleaning dirt and other grit from his knuckles before continuing. “How was I supposed to know that bastard had a durasteel plate in his cheek?”

Safi hmmed noncommittally, not looking up from her task.

“So why were you fighting with this durasteel-cheeked soldier in the first place?” she asked.

“He was running his mouth outside the mess tent for anyone to hear. I told him to go back to the barracks, sober up before he said something that got him in trouble. He didn’t like my suggestion and took a swing at me, so I returned the favor.”

“What was he saying?” she asked, moving on from cleaning to applying kolto. “Sorry,” she interjected again as the kolto made first contact with his fingers.

The hand that still rested on Safi’s knee gave a quick squeeze of reassurance as Theron answered.

“Nothing worth repeating. He’ll think twice about doing it again, though—I stopped to talk to his commanding officer of the way here. He’ll be on waste disposal duty on the Dauntless for the next month.”

Safi felt like she was missing something. She had seen Theron in action, knew how easy it would have been for him to disable the drunk soldier without harming him and leave the discipline to his commanding officer.

“Were you not wearing your bracers?” she asked, knowing the answer already as she stared pointedly at the pieces encircling his wrists.

When he didn’t answer her eyes flicked up his face. His cheeks were flushed and he looked distinctly uncomfortable.

“I…” he started, trailed off, and didn’t say anything more.

Safi kept pressing. “Or could you not have evaded him until someone arrived to help you subdue him? I’ve seen how quickly soldiers gather for things like that.” Her hands remained busy as she spoke, finishing up with the kolto and moving on to splint the broken finger. She made quick work of that, her hands gentle but sure, and began to wind a bandage around all of the injured fingers.

The two of them were quiet for a long moment. The silence seemed to drag on and Safi felt her jaw tighten and her shoulders stiffen as she wondered whether he didn’t know the answer to her question or if he just didn’t want to explain. A lifetime of practice had her inhaling a slow breath through her nose, visualizing her frustration fluttering away on the air as she released it from her lungs.

As she secured the end of the bandage, another thought occurred to her. “Or—”

She only got out a single syllable before Theron finally spoke, the words exploding from his lips as if he had just lost a heated battle to keep them inside.

“He was  talking about you, okay?” He let go of her knee to run his good hand over his face, cursed as he pressed too hard against his bruises, and dropped it again with a sigh. “He was talking about you, and I just…lost control.”

Safi stared at him blankly, still cradling his hand in hers, processing his confession.

It neither surprised nor bothered her that some of the coalition would have less than kind things to say about her. She was a very public, prominent face of a small group that had asked them to lay down their arms and work with their sworn enemies—enemies who, in many cases, weren’t just philosophically different. No, most of the men and women in this camp had lost family, friends, homes, and more to the Empire, and she knew the same was true in reverse. It was only natural that some people would take that stress out on her, and her mind skipped over that information with barely any consideration.

What did surprise her, though, what had her thoughts swirling and crashing like the waves on Manaan during a hurricane, was the fact that Theron had gotten into a fight to…what? Defend her honor? Her first instinct was to tell him it wasn’t necessary—this certainly wasn’t the first time someone had made disparaging remarks about her, and it wasn’t likely to be the last—but she couldn’t deny that something inside her softened at the idea of him standing up for her. That didn’t change the fact that brawling was not something she approved of, and frankly she was still shocked that Theron had lost his cool like that.

He had remained quiet while she took in what he had said, and she noticed now that he looked miserable. Aside from his injuries, he held his mouth in a tight line, his eyes were downcast with what looked like guilt—and she suddenly realized how stupid she was being.

“Theron,” his name poured from her lips, soft and smooth as shadowsilk, and his eyes flicked up to meet hers with surprise. Clearly, whatever he had been expecting her response to be, it wasn’t this.

Safi tried to continue, to put into words the storm of affection and concern inside of her, but nothing came out. How could she tell him all at once that she was both frustrated and undone by him, worried about and irritated with him, overcome with tenderness and disbelief and something else, something soft and warm and utterly terrifying that she no name for?

She couldn’t, so instead she raised his injured hand to her lips and ghosted a gentle kiss across his bandaged knuckles. Immediately his face softened, one side of his mouth tilting up into that little half smile that made her insides melt.

“It was stupid, huh?” he said laughingly, shifting so that he could pull her against his side.

“Very stupid, yes,” she agreed, leaning her head against his shoulder. “Next time, just start with the shit duty.”

#swtor #swtor fanfic #safi x theron #jedi knight #theron shan #jedi knight/theron shan #fluff

[fleeting-sanity]

Surrounded By Idiots (Rionnic's Version)

#soft launching my boi's musical career #swtor #swtor oc #arcann #koth vortena #malavai quinn #vette #theron shan #sith warrior #jedi consular #jedi knight #vaylin #swtor fanart #my art #chibi

[bluezeri]

behold. some memes now that I'm getting back into swtor

#swtor #star wars #star wars the old republic #swtor oc #theron shan #oc: jaiisan #oc: kahsii #jedi #jedi knight #sith pureblood #sith pureblood jedi #chiss #imperial agent #imp agent #trans theron shan #<- not technically important to the post but important to me #pls ignore that ive been gone from the swtor fandom for months #and take the memes #star wars oc

[kemendin]

Alliance Commander's Quarters - Caspian Serapis

This is meant to be on Odessen, not Coruscant - high up in the Alliance base, with plenty of windows and a stunning view. Some notes below cut because I put a lot of thought and meaning into the decor:

Hallway/entrance. An actual door, unlike the room in the Odessen base xD Theron and Lana hanging out because they're Cas' right and left hands when it comes to running the Alliance, and good friends besides.

Main room, featuring Alliance and Task Force Nova banners, both important causes in Cas' life. There's also a central table for small meetings or meals with his inner circle, Jedi-themed because while Cas is no longer strictly part of the Order, part of him is always going to be a Jedi.

Cas' work table, where he can futz around with computer tech or Rakata artefacts. Corellian rugs, as a nod to Cas' home planet. Also a model of his ship, the Seeker.

Kira and T7, Cas' crew and family, and a casual little lounge area for relaxing chats over drinks. Also a computer workstation connected to the Odessen base systems and the holonet. Boy's an accomplished slicer, gotta keep those skills sharp.

Rakata corner with statue, console, and model of Belsavis, because Cas is a little too obsessed with all things Rakata. Also a secure holo-library for his research.

Bedroom entrance, featuring a little breakfast table with a view, where Cas and Scourge can have a meal in solitude.

Bedroom panorama, a lot to unpack in this one. Naturally, as Cas' life partner, Scourge is there. A Rakata plaque - all the Rakata, I swear - and a painting of the Meridian Complex, where Scourge and Cas reunited after so long apart. A lightsaber display whose meaning I haven't settled on yet xD And a model of Alderaan, where Cas took Scourge on a sensory pilgrimage after they got together, a very special place for both of them.

And another bedroom view. Prominent Corellian banners, as Cas is fiercely proud of his homeworld and heritage. Some more Jedi connections in the archive and datacron. The bed's an inside joke - Cas asked Scourge to pick out the colour of the sheets, now that Scourge can appreciate colour again, and Scourge went with - black. Of course he did. (That's ALL the colours though, that counts, right?)

#swtor #swtor strongholds #swtor gifs #swtor jedi knight #lord scourge #swtor building #star wars the old republic #theron shan #t701 #kira carsen #lana beniko #swtor:caspian #kem oc #kem gifs #i am just so so happy with this new build #i was hesitant about ripping up the old one but zero regrets now #also pls appreciate how i managed to decorate the hookless penthouse walls :D #kem does swtor building

[caffeinatedrogue]

it's been a while since I drew some fluff :D Theron and Senna for my darling @girlstandstill! <3 thank you so much lovely

#swtor #theron shan #jedi knight x theron #swtor ocs #star wars #art tag #<3<3<3 it was lovely drawing for you again! <3

[theshieldbladelegacy]

Best trio.

#SWTOR #star wars #the old republic #the shieldblade legacy #legacy of the sith #theron shan #lana beniko #jedi knight #zabrak #dorium

[sealeneee]

she thinks she's funny

#swtor #my art #jedi knight #oc: katona #there's an unimpressed theron shan behind the scenes #artist on tumblr #fanart

[anchanted-one]

Record of Heroes Past Book 5. Book of Ciphers: Limbo

Summary: A time of great uncertainty is approaching. Darth Marr and Vajra Devarath—the Hero of Tython—have disappeared, following a decisive ambush by the mysterious Zakuul, a third Galactic superpower. While Kairegane Rooks—the Empire's Wrath—scrambles to save everyone from the new threat, Lana Beniko abandons everything in her race to save her husband. But her search may not be as smooth as she'd hoped...

This book is set in the five-year timeskip between Chapters 1 and 3 of KOTFE

#star wars #the old republic #star wars the old republic #swtor #fanfic #star wars fanfiction #lana beniko #jedi knight #hero of tython #theron shan #satele shan #arcann #vaylin #trooper #koth vortena

[storyknitter]

The Seven Stars Inn

(This originally started as a fluff prompt here, but I’ve updated it since then and expanded upon it, so tadaaa!)

Theron ran the towel over his damp hair one last time, then stretched. The baths at this inn were extravagant and luxurious, especially in contrast to the past week spent sleeping rough on the side of the road.

Worth every coin it had cost—and then some—if you asked him. This was by far the nicest place he had stayed in quite some time.

A soft snore greeted him as he left the bathroom: Vassanna was asleep already? The bed stood untouched, and he turned to find her on the small sofa before the fireplace. She sat reclined, her head tipped back with her long, freshly-washed hair hanging down the back of the couch to dry. A book had fallen to the floor, her place in its story lost.

A frown crossed his features: she’d been exhausted the past few nights, near impossible to wake for her watch, and groggy in the afternoons.

Something was wrong.

He didn’t think she was injured and, based on the precautions they both took, there was no way she could be with child. A trill of fear shot through him at the thought: the last thing anyone needed right now was a little princeling—or a princess—crawling around in a year.

An image, vague and shimmery, of a little girl toddling towards him, with eyes like her mother’s filled his vision. He batted it away, focusing on his concern for the very real woman before him.

Theron sat gingerly beside her, inspecting the dark smudges beneath her eyes. Normally, he requested permission before inspecting someone with his feeble Healing magics, but concern outweighed propriety.

He held his hand above her heart and, after a moment’s hesitation, focused, searching for anything that didn’t belong. Hmm... only a bruise or two, no big internal injuries—and thank the stars for that, because he wouldn’t be able to mend those—and strained muscles from the journey. He found no physical reason she should be this tired.

Magic, then? It had to be.

A stray lock of hair brushed across her face as she breathed; it must have tickled, as her features twitched even in slumber. His fingers moved of their own accord, tenderly sweeping the hair to the side and tucking it behind her ear.

With a sigh, he shifted and slipped his arms beneath her, scooping her up; the bed would be far more comfortable for her than this sofa. Vassanna woke with a start as he stood, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Was I asleep?” she mumbled, confusion written on her features. “‘time is it?”

“It’s time for you to go to bed,” he answered. “The actual time doesn’t matter.”

“But dinner—”

“You can have dinner here,” he said as he laid her on the bed. “I’ll wake you when it arrives.”

“Theron, I’m fine, just a little tired,” she insisted. “Don’t give me that look; we’ve been sleeping on the ground in the fields for a week now and have been on the road for so long.”

“You’re exhausted,” he snapped, gesturing to the book still lying on the floor.

“Well, as far as I’m aware, we have no plans this evening except for a meal, correct?”

“Yes,” he said with a sigh. “Though the innkeeper wanted to talk to you about tomorrow’s meeting.”

Vassanna snorted. “The innkeeper also wants to catch up on all the Sentinel gossip she’s missed out on since retiring and settling down here.”

“She was a Sentinel?” Theron couldn’t keep the surprise from his voice; the teal-skinned Twi’lek behind the bar seemed far too gentle to have lived that life.

“Mhmm. That’s why this is the only inn we’ve stopped at within the borders of Korriban.” A yawn displaced her smirk.

Concern for the innkeeper and her family muted Theron’s voice. “Is it safe for them?” he whispered.

She nodded. “No one here knows. They’ve changed their names and shifted their appearance a bit using magic. Apparently—”

“Hey, wait,” he protested. “You’re changing the subject. Are you sick? Hurt? Why are you so tired?”

Her entire demeanor shifted in the blink of an eye: a frown twisted her lovely features, her posture immaculately straight, chin raised in challenge. “I’m allowed to be tired, my lord,” she bit out. “It’s been a very long week.”

All he wanted was for her to tell him what the hell was wrong: was that too much to ask? In his frustration, he planted his fists on his hips and returned her frown. “You’re far more drained than you should be.” 

“According to whom?” she snapped, pulling back the covers and standing toe to toe with him. “Are you my bodyguard? My nursemaid?”

“No, but it seems like you could use one,” he muttered. Stars above, she could be so damned stubborn!

Anger flashed in her violet eyes, like lightning during a summer storm, and he decided a different approach was necessary. Playing on her sense of duty and devotion to him, to his cause, felt dirty, but it would be worth it if he could just get her talking.

“Well, how do you expect to protect me if you can’t even stay awake for dinner?”

Oh, but he was sorely mistaken: he’d pushed too far.

Sanna’s eyes widened in shock, then narrowed. “How dare you!” she hissed. “Do you think I’ve just been napping in the saddle all week? Dozing or flitting off to dreamland? That I haven’t been doing everything in my power to keep you safe while we’re so close to his domain?”

The specter of the Shadow King loomed large in the room, raising the hairs at the nape of Theron’s neck.

“I thought you trusted me to keep you safe; I didn’t realize I had to explain every step I took to do so. But fine,” she said with a snarl, “yes, it’s magic. Would you like all the details, your majesty?”

“No, I trust you; I do. I’m just worried.”

The anger in her eyes melted away, leaving hurt in its place. Stars, he was an ass.

“I will keep you safe, Theron, even if it is the last thing I do.” Her jaw clenched and she swallowed hard. “I swore an oath and I intend to keep it.”

They stood there, silently, neither meeting the other’s eyes. He owed her an apology for casting doubt on her loyalty and skills. Why didn’t he trust her to tell him if she was hurt or not? She was an adult, as well as a frighteningly competent bodyguard.

You’re afraid you’ll lose her, a little voice in the back of his head whispered.

Ignoring that stupid voice that didn’t know at all what it was talking about, he sighed. “That was uncalled for, I’m sorry. I do trust you, very much so, and—”

“It’s fine,” she interrupted softly and one could cut the uncomfortable tension between them with a knife.

“Why don’t you rest for a bit?” he murmured sheepishly. “I’ll wake you for dinner.” 

With a silent nod, she climbed into the bed, tugging the covers up to her chin and staring at the ceiling.

Gently, carefully, Theron sat on the edge of the bed. “Hey,” he said softly as he cupped her cheek in his palm, “we can talk more later—if you want.” He offered a small smile as a peace offering as he placed his other hand on her forehead. “But for now, rest.” Pulling from his shallow store of magic, he gently nudged her into a deep, peaceful slumber.

Theron sat there for a long moment after her eyes fluttered closed and her breathing evened out, his hands still cradling her face. He told himself it was to ensure that Vassanna stayed asleep, but if he were honest, he didn't want to let go.

He brushed his thumb along her cheek and the tattoos embossed on her skin. The urge to press his lips to those diamond-shaped marks seized him so strongly that he almost gave in before catching himself at the last moment. What was wrong with him?

Standing abruptly, he stalked to the fireplace to pace until their meal arrived.

————

Hours later, long after the sun had set and the fire died down, their bags lay packed by the door, ready to leave at a moment’s notice should the need arise. Vassanna had slept through it all, waking only for dinner and a short explanation—and a heartfelt and sincere apology from her prince. Theron mulled over her words while he prepared for bed.

We’re trained in whatever aspect of magic comes naturally to us, so we try out many different things as children. My mother’s a Healer, but all my healing tonics made my classmates ill. She had chuckled ruefully. My energies were focused on combat after that.

My sister, she’s a ghost: she can disappear into the shade of a tree and no one would ever see her again if she didn’t wish it. She bends the light around her, somehow. I don’t understand, but it’s impressive.

I can’t hide within the light like her, but I can make myself look... Vassanna had trailed off, a thoughtful look on her features. Inconspicuous, unassuming. I’m still in plain sight, but it’s almost as though people overlook the fact that I’m there.

A yawn had interrupted her explanation. It’s not as natural for me as combat magic, so while I can do it, it’s exhausting. Moreso if I’m trying to keep more than just myself concealed. But seeing as we’re too close to Korriban Hold for my liking, it’s been necessary to keep us safe from notice—or worse.

Back in the present, Theron stretched and yawned. Climbing gently into the bed to not disturb her rest, he chuckled at the loud snore that greeted him.

Vassanna mumbled something unintelligible and rolled over, facing him. The covers tangled around her waist and she shivered at their loss, goosebumps skittering across the bare skin of her arm.

With a soft grin, he pulled her side of the covers up, tucking her in, and was nearly lost when she sighed contentedly in her sleep, shifting closer to him. He gently swept the tangled hair from her face, smoothing it back and behind her ear as she did whenever it was loose.

Resting his hand lightly along her jaw, Theron inspected his bodyguard, lover, and—dare he say—his friend. She looked so calm, so peaceful in sleep; carefree, almost. That she would quietly sacrifice so much of herself touched him, twisting something in his chest and making it hard to breathe.

The need to hold her close threatened to overwhelm him. He resisted, however, content to brush his thumb against her cheek instead.

“Sweet dreams,” he murmured.

————

“Vassanna? Sanna, it’s time to wake up.”

The voice in her ear was soft and warm, as comfortable as the bed she lay in.

“Five more minutes,” she mumbled. Stars above, she was so tired.

“Sorry, I already gave you as much time as I could. We meet with our informant in forty-five minutes.”

Informant? What was— 

Sanna bolted upright with a gasp as she remembered where they were: not far from the lands of Korriban on Theron’s quest to gather support for their rebellion. Sunlight streamed in through the window and birds chirped outside.

“Stars, what time is it?” she asked, anxiously glancing around for the chronometer. “Eleven fifteen!? How long have I been sleeping?”

“Honestly, not as long as you needed, unfortunately. You still feel exhausted. Er, you look like you feel exhausted, I mean.”

“Thanks,” she said drily and he shot her a look.

“You know what I mean.”

Nodding with a small smile, she rose to prepare for their meeting, hurrying into and out of the bathroom. As she rushed to dress, Theron glanced over quizzically.

“Full armor?”

She froze mid-buckle, her leather cuirass slipping slightly as she shrugged. How did she explain that she had a bad feeling about this meeting?

“You don’t think this is a trap, do you?”

Yes. No. Maybe it was simply that she’d overslept and her mind was still foggy. Perhaps she preferred the comfort and safety the armor provided. Sanna sighed.

“Everything is a trap.” She finished buckling her chest piece as she spoke. “Better over-prepared than caught unawares. You should wear your hauberk.”

“I think it would inspire more trust and confidence if we didn’t show up to meet this person armed to the teeth,” Theron said. Before she could open her mouth to argue, he continued. “You should leave your weapons up here.”

“What?”

“Why do you need eight different blades for a lunch meeting? You’re being paranoid.”

“Just in case something—”

“It’s an order, Sanna.”

She stared, open-mouthed. What was he thinking?

“And how, pray tell, am I supposed to protect you with no weapons?”

“You shouldn’t have to. What kind of information-gathering meetings have you been to?”

His question hit her like a slap in the face: he knew what had happened to her the last time an informant had turned, he knew. And the stakes were ever so much higher now than a few Sentinels; the future king’s life could hang in the balance.

But it was an order. So, clenching her jaw so tightly that her teeth creaked, she took up her sheathed swords and placed them on their saddle packs.

(She was briefly impressed that Theron had done such a fine job of ensuring they were ready to leave at a moment’s notice while she was sleeping like the dead, but her irritation and anxiety swiftly swept it away.)

She removed all but two of her throwing daggers and set them beside her swords, grumbling internally about how foolish this was.

“As you say, your majesty,” she bit out, bowing low to Theron.

He sighed. “Sanna—”

“After you, my lord.” She snapped the door open and gestured for him to lead the way, plastering a smile on her face.

Heaving another sigh, he shook his head and walked out the door. She followed, somehow managing to keep herself from slamming it behind her in her frustration.

————

Standing at the bar, Sanna chatted with A’lema, the owner of the Seven Stars Inn—and a former Sentinel.

“I’m assuming you’ve got plans for this meeting?” A’lema asked as she set a pint before Sanna.

“Well, plan A is ‘meet the deserter, gather the information, stay here another night to enjoy the delicious food and warm bed, and then go on our merry way.’ Hopefully, that’s the plan we end up using.”

“And plan B?”

Sanna smiled at her host. “What’s the phrase? ‘You can take the girl out of the Sentinels, but you can’t take the Sentinel out of the girl’?”

“Look, this is my house,” she said, tapping the bar counter, though she returned Sanna’s grin. “I’d like to be prepared if we have to skip ahead to plans B, C, or D.”

“That’s fair,” she replied with a small chuckle. “Plan B is that it’s a trap. Either he’s faking the desertion or he’s been coerced into it. Or he’s simply a pawn and is being followed here by the false king’s men.”

“I can portal you both away if worse comes to worse. Not to Tython—that would be too dangerous this close to Korriban—but somewhere else safe.”

Sanna inclined her head in thanks. “I’ll do my best to keep you and yours out of it; I don’t want to destroy the life you have here.” She nodded towards Theron. “He’s convinced it’s going to be Plan A.”

“And you?”

“I’m prepared for Plan B.” She paused, thinking of all her weapons upstairs, and frowned. “Mostly.”

“I did notice that your swords are conspicuously missing, Guardian.”

“They’re in the room. I might make our contact ‘uncomfortable.’” She managed to keep from rolling her eyes.

“He may be a prince,” the innkeeper said, leaning forward, “but you are his guard. You can veto his rules, you know; you outrank him on the battlefield.”

“It’s not a battlefield yet.”

The door to the inn opened, halting their conversation, and a haggard-looking man matching the description of their contact strode in.

“Ah well. Too late now,” Sanna sighed and turned.

“Hey.”

A’lema’s tone stopped her in her tracks.

“You’ve considered the need for a last-ditch plan?”

It wasn’t technically a plan, per se, but all Sentinels learned that they were part of a larger whole; they served the people of the land before serving themselves. Sometimes a personal sacrifice saved more than was lost, like pruning branches from a tree to see it bloom all the better the next spring.

“I swore to keep him safe until my last breath. I’m no oathbreaker.”

A’lema nodded solemnly. “We’ll get him out of here and to Orgus if need be.”

Sanna glanced back toward the bar. “If need be, I’ll buy you all the time I can. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go join what’s hopefully Plan A.” She saluted with her glass and joined Theron at the table as their contact approached.

At least his all-knowing majesty hadn’t protested against the safety of sitting with their backs to the wall, so they had an advantageous view of the entry. She spent most of the conversation with her focus there, to ensure the soldier hadn’t been followed.

Maybe she was being overly paranoid.

A snap from the fireplace at her elbow drew her focus back to the table. Though Sanna would never admit it to Theron, she would have been cooler and more comfortable without her armor: the cheery fire crackled and glowed, throwing far more heat than she would have expected.

“He’s controlling ‘em somehow,” the deserter said. “My buddy and I had been talking about getting out, heading somewhere we could keep our heads down until making for home, and then he started ignoring me when I’d talk to him about it. I tried one last time to talk him into coming with me today, but he just got all glassy-eyed, tellin’ me King Tenebris was the rightful king and ‘not to presume that there were limits to his power.’ I couldn’t talk any sense into ‘im after that.”

The phrase sent a prickle of fear shuddering down Vassanna’s spine: she’d heard it before, in a time she’d much prefer to forget. “You invited your friend here with you? Today?” She tried to keep her tone even, but based on Theron’s shifting posture, she wasn’t as successful as she’d hoped.

“Yeah. For a minute, I really thought he’d join me and—”

The door to the inn’s common room slammed open and bedlam broke loose. A’lema dropped behind the bar and dashed into the kitchen as a dozen of the Shadow King’s fighters poured into the room, each firing an arrow and nocking another in the space of a breath.

With a curse, Sanna dug deep within, reaching for her pitiful amount of magic. (Her store of magic hadn’t replenished itself as much as she had hoped; it must be their proximity to Korriban and the magics wrought there.) She shoved the defector out of the way and to the side of the room, then tugged at the air, shielding herself and Theron from the arrows hurtling rapidly toward them. The shield wouldn’t hold long—not with the state of her depleted magics—but it bought her enough time to flip the table to its side, providing a far more substantial shelter.

Theron was on the ground, facing away from her, and an arrow whizzed past him, far too close for comfort. She grasped the back of his tunic, yanking him fully behind the table, and froze.

No.

Two arrows with the Shadow King’s black-purple-red fletching had lodged themselves in his chest, sticking out grotesquely, and his features were twisted in pain, eyes screwed shut. She stared in horror, unable to move, to breathe. “No,” she whispered as time slowed to a crawl, the thunk of arrows into the other side of the table drowned out by a woman’s sobs.

She reached out and cradled Theron’s face in shaking hands. “Oh stars, please...”

He grunted in pain, then cracked open his eyes, concern briefly replacing the agony etched there. “No, don’t. Don’t cry,” he murmured. “I’ll be alright; I can Heal myself, remember?”

Another sob escaped and she clamped a hand over her mouth, surprised to find tears on her cheeks. Nodding, she closed her eyes and dashed away the tears, drawing her focus back to the here and now—and the very real danger awaiting them across the room.

Reaching out with a small tendril of magic to see what they were up against, she found the soldiers at the door woodenly preparing another volley of arrows, and nearly two dozen soldiers waiting outside as backup, should the first group fail to take their quarry. Making things worse, every one of them was under the control of the Shadow King.

And here she was with practically no magic left and only two damned knives. 

Movement from the bar area caught her attention: A’lema and her wife Pirri were carefully making their way to Sanna’s makeshift shelter. The former Sentinel bore a large shield in one hand, sheathed sword in the other, with a bow and arrows slung over her shoulder. 

As soon as the pair made it behind the table, A’lema waved her hand, and blue lights danced through the air before coalescing into magical armored knights, who squared off with the Shadow King’s soldiers. Perri immediately got to work inspecting Theron’s wounds.

“So,” A’lema asked cheerfully, “what plan are we on now?”

The casual question snapped Vassanna out of her panic. “Unclear,” she answered. “There are, however, two dozen more troops outside, waiting. For how long, I’m not entirely sure.”

“Well, shit,” she murmured and fired off an arrow that exploded with a flash, blinding the enemy.

Theron let out a groan of pain as Pirri worked to remove his vest without causing more damage. At a second, calmer glance, the wounds weren’t nearly as bad as Sanna had thought: one of the arrows had hit the muscular part of his upper arm, not his chest. The second was higher up, nearer the collarbone. At least his lungs and heart were safe; the arm would be an easy fix, but the shoulder still had her worried.

“She may not have healing magic, but she’s damn good and has patched me up more times than I can count. Just so you know.”

“Aww, thanks for the compliment, my dearest.”

The banter between the couple warmed her heart. A’lema and Pirri would keep Theron safe; Sanna felt it in her bones. All she had to do was take out enough of the enemy to buy them the time needed to escape.

Resting her hand on A’lema’s arm, she met her gaze. “There are too many of them. I think we may have skipped over the rest of the plans and landed at the last one.”

With a whispered curse, the innkeeper nocked another arrow and sent it flying toward the enemy before handing her sword to Vassanna with a nod. “It may not be your own, but it’s good Tythonian steel. It’ll serve you well.”

“The honor is mine.” She turned to her prince. “Theron, can you walk?”

He glanced over, grimacing. “Yes, but—” He hissed. “I’ll be fine.”

She tilted Theron’s chin up so she could meet his eyes one last time. “Go with them now. They’ll get you back to Orgus.” She kissed his forehead, then picked up A’lema’s sword, testing its weight and heft. “Don’t look back when you go. That’s an order.”

The confusion on his face shifted quickly to understanding, anger, horror. “Absolutely not,” he barked, reaching up with his good arm and grasping her wrist. “We started this together, we’ll— You promised me ‘until the end,’ unless you’ve forgotten.”

Sanna’s stomach twisted and she blinked away the sting of tears again. “We are running out of time. You must go with them: these people cannot lose their king.”

“And I can’t lose you,” he snarled through gritted teeth.

Her eyes grew wide as his words sank in.

“You will not throw your life away today. I won’t—” He stilled, pain stealing his words. “You’re a brilliant fighter and strategist, dammit; come up with something else.” The words came out as a near whisper, but they carried determination and pride.

“Look you two, we don’t have all day,” A’lema muttered. “I’m running out of arrows and they’re running out of patience with my magical decoys, so let’s get moving.”

Pirri finished wrapping a bandage around Theron’s arm; he winced as she tightened the knot. The bloodied arrow lay on the ground and terror tore through Sanna.

“Burn it,” she cried, and Pirri glanced over in confusion. “The arrow. Anything with Theron’s blood on it. Tenebris uses blood magic, and the stars only know what he’d do if he got a hold of that—”

The fire in the hearth roared, blazing with a fury that nearly bowled Sanna over. An old lesson dredged itself from her memory: fire magic was highly effective in neutralizing other forms of magic—especially blood magic. 

“Wait,” she breathed as an idea took shape.

There was, unfortunately, a drawback to fire magic: it was incredibly dangerous and difficult to control, and if you lost your hold on the fire, well... a wildfire would blaze through anything in its path, including magic-wielders.

Desperate times, however, called for desperate measures.

“I need you to stall them for a few more minutes. Don’t do anything reckless, but I just need a few minutes,” Sanna said. Setting the sword down, she hurriedly sat in a meditative pose, hands held open before her. 

One deep breath to center herself. Then a second.

A third for good measure.

Reaching out toward the fireplace, she beckoned the fire to her hands. Hello there. Come to me, help me. Her instructor had taught her to treat the fire as though it were alive; it would give more respect for the sheer power it held and if one happened to find a Sprite, that would be even better.

Why should I help you? You’re the one who put my family in danger in the first place.

Sanna’s eyes flew open with shock and she stared into the fireplace. Stars above, they had a fire Sprite! If today weren’t already going so horribly, she’d count herself the luckiest person in the lands.

You’re the only one who can help us all, Sanna thought as she closed her eyes again. Fire Sprites hated to be bound against their will, so she felt certain that it would want to destroy any trace of Tenebris’s blood magic. The people attacking us don’t want to be in this situation either. They’re trapped, held captive by the Shadow King.

Her hands tingled with heat and she glanced down to see the Sprite flickering in her hands, leaving sooty trails on her palms.

For the first time since she’d escaped from Arkanis Hold, Sanna purposely dug up all the memories she’d hidden away, safely out of sight. From the seemingly innocent dagger slash across her jaw from one of the soldiers who quickly retreated, to the moment Tenebris cast the spell binding her to his will to, oh stars, all the terrible things she did under his control. 

Outrage and disgust radiated from the Sprite as it experienced her memories.

Please help them. Don’t let them have any more memories like this.

Sanna held her breath, uncertain of what would happen next. The glowing fire in her hands had moved past uncomfortable, drawing near unbearable. Sweat beaded on her brow and trickled down her face. 

Stars, she was hot.

Yes, it hissed. I will free these people and scorch those who would control the innocent. But what will you give me in return?

Anything I have is yours. She could hopefully summon up enough magic after this to get into the nearest Sentinel safehouse, but that was a problem for the future; she would deal with it then.

One step at a time.

A rasping chuckle echoed through her ears before the fire melted into her hands, searing up her arms and through her chest.

The intense heat was unforgiving, all-consuming, overwhelming; she could barely draw a breath. Shouts echoed through the building, mixing with the screams etched into her memories. Clapping her hands over her ears did nothing to block out the noise.

Just as Vassanna was certain she would burn forever, an icy cold swept through her, sending uncontrollable shivers in its wake. Her teeth chattered; she hugged herself in a vain attempt to stop the trembling.

“Sanna? Vassanna!” Theron’s right hand was clasped tightly around her upper arm, pulling her closer. He tried to reach with his other arm, which was a mistake: blood seeped from the arrow still lodged near his collarbone and he groaned, leaning back against the table with a grimace.

Shifting closer, Sanna cradled his cheeks in her sooty, blackened—yet miraculously unburned—hands. “I’m here.”

“Your nose is bleeding,” he murmured, eyes still closed, and she swiped the back of her sleeve across her face.

“Not anymore.”

He pried one eye open and frowned. “You look like shit.”

A near-hysterical giggle bubbled from her lips. “Thanks, so do you.”

(They both missed the matching eye rolls from their hosts.)

“What about the soldiers? What did you do?”

Oh, stars, what had she done?

A whoop from A’lema drew their attention and Sanna poked her head above the table. To her pleasant surprise, most soldiers strewn across the floor appeared to be breathing still, though there were two piles of dark ash alongside the living bodies.

“Some chose the shackles of your Shadow King in exchange for power over the subjugated,” the Sprite’s voice hissed from the fireplace. “I dealt with them as I saw fit. They would not have gone in peace. The rest will wake soon and leave this place, but the ones who served willingly let their master know that you are here and that my family helped you. He is dispatching more troops to bring retribution upon the Seven Stars. We must leave, permanently.”

Damn.

“Well, at least we keep the important things packed up,” sighed A’lema. “I'll gather what I can; you finish with his majesty, sweet. Sentinel, go prepare for your journey, then you can help me prepare for ours.”

In an exhausted daze, Sanna stood, swaying slightly before stumbling up the stairs to their rented room. She sniffled and tasted the tang of iron as she opened the door. Heading to the bathroom, she quickly washed the blood from her face, but to her dismay, the soot stains left by the sprite were not so easy to rinse away. In growing dread, she removed her bracers and rolled up her sleeves to better scrub away the scorch marks only to discover they climbed up her arms as far as she could see—and no amount of soap or scouring would remove them.

With a sigh, Sanna attempted to make peace with the markings: if they had saved her and Theron, then so be it. She’d carry them as long as they lasted.

Donning her weapons—stars, that made her feel better—she gathered up their saddle packs and made her way downstairs. The horses were quickly tacked up and she turned to help A’lema pack their wagon.

“Do you know where you want the portal to go?” A’lema asked as they heaved a chest into the back. “I’ve only got enough magic left for one, so you’ve got to make it count.”

“What? No, absolutely not,” Sanna said with a shake of her head. “We’ll be on horses; wagons are much slower and you’ll need as much of a head start against the Shadow King’s minions as you can get. You need that portal more than we do. There’s a safehouse not far from here and I need to touch base with Master Orgus after all this anyway.”

“It’s a good half-day's journey from here and our prince isn’t at his prime.”

“We’ll make it. He’ll insist you use the portal for yourselves as well, I can promise you.”

At the innkeeper's dubious look, Sanna continued, taking her hand. “You’ve done far more than was necessary to help us and you’ve lost almost everything because of it. I’m absolutely certain that neither of us wants you to lose any more. And you know the Shadow King isn’t kind to those who support the Shans.”

The threat of the Shadow King’s retribution tipped the scales and A’lema agreed to use the portal for herself—and just in time.

Theron appeared at the door, looking weak and wan but very much alive, supported by Pirri.

“Ready to leave whenever you are,” he said.

#okay so it starts the same #then quickly shifts a bit #knitter writes #medieval fantasy au #MF!AU #OTP: Chips & Guac #i love these mutually pining/protective idiots #I'm pretty sure that bit where he says she looks terrible is my favorite dialogue in the mf!au so far #Theron Shan #Jedi Knight/Theron Shan #(sorta)

[greyias]

I wish you would write a fic where... Theron somehow amasses a following of actual, physical porn bots droids and shenanigans ensue

I saw this prompt come in and devolved into a fit of heinous cackling. How, oh how could I resist trying to render our collective Tumblr nightmare into fictional text form?

Context: While not required reading, this is technically a sequel to this stunning crackfic, authored so long ago. If you need a refresher on the Medical Droid Love Triangle Saga, follow this link. Or this one, which is the real villain origin story of this fic. Or don't, you're already cursed if you click beyond the read more of this post.

With special thanks to @grumpyhedgehog, @sandwyrm, @storyknitter, @kitsonpaws, and @andveryginger for providing me with ideas, cursed pornbot summaries, and many cursed HoloNet websites that should never exist. You are not required to read any of this.

Technically rated T, but in reality rated N for Nobody, because no one should have to read this. I'm packing my bags, as my ride to superhell just came. Enjoy.

It had started as such a normal day -- if you could indeed have called any day on Odessen “normal”. What with the galaxy always being at the brink of some disaster or another, and their merry little band of misfits being led by the galaxy’s most notorious do-gooder, Theron’s schedule and to-do list had a tendency to get derailed on almost a daily basis.

This, however, was not how that usually happened.

He’d paused, mid-step, finger still hovering over his datapad, mid-entry as the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, slowly dawning horror washing over him. His head turned slowly, like one of those doomed characters in a horror holofilm to look at the droid he’d just passed.

It was one of the new ones that had come in on a recent shipment. So new in fact, that there was still a fleet of them in the middle of being unpacked in the Logistics Wing. Shining, tall and blue, its highly polished quadranium head pivoted to look back at him.

“What,” Theron swallowed, willing his voice to sound even and not give in to the creeping dread, “what did you say?”

“Theron Shan,” the droid repeated helpfully, “is a master lover.”

“Oh no.” The words slipped out of their own accord.

“Just a moment, sir,” the droid continued, seemingly oblivious to the human’s distress, “I’m not quite done with your evaluation yet. Let’s see, where were we?”

“No no no no.”

The round flattened dome that served as its head tilted to one side, beady orange eyes sweeping over Theron from head to toe, before resuming its cheery, if horrifying report. “Subject is an exemplary specimen. In good cardiovascular health, above average muscle tone. Tall, well-built, and very clean...”

“Um,” Theron stammered. “I’m...” Flattered? Taken? Leaving? Wait--yes, that last one. “Going now!”

He didn’t give the cursed machine any more time to continue ogling him, instead taking off down the hall at a very brisk walk that nearly bordered on a jog. His mind raced at he beat a hasty retreat, trying to understand what was happening. It had been over a year since the The Incident, dubbed by some as the “Sexy Spy Virus”, and others by much more crude names, where a little harmless reprogramming had taken on a life of its own. Theron had been meticulous in his coding of the antivirus, wanting to ensure that the entire debacle would be forgotten. There was simply no way that it could crop back in on its own.

“Theron,” the brisk accented tone of one Lana Beniko burst in over his comm, “why did a droid just feel the need to inform me that they found rust on its insides during its last tune-up?”

“I don’t know,” Theron insisted, but his words were almost drowned out by a metallic clanking echoing down the corridor.

He threw a look over his shoulder, and to his horror, saw that his robotic admirer had decided to give chase. 

“I’m going to have to call you back,” he quickly said into the comm as the droid picked up speed from a walk to an all out gallop.

“Theron,” she sounded both concerned and exasperated, which, considering Lana, was about par the course, “what’s going on?”

“Save me!” He shouted as he took off a dead sprint.

In his many years in the field, Theron had been threatened, sure. Shot at? Many times. He’d been drugged. Tortured. Stabbed through the gut with a lightsaber pike and lived to tell the tale. He’d run into Sith, Revanites, bounty hunters, thugs, fanatics and cultists alike. He’d been in more firefights than he could remember, and more covert ops than he cared to. He’d even been accused of being a traitor (although that was kind of the point at the time).

None of that compared right now to being chased down by a droid yelling at top volume claiming he was the best lover it had ever seen.

And this time, he was pretty sure it wasn’t actually his fault.

He rounded the corner from the corridor leading from the Logistics Wing, passing by the Commander’s (and at this point, his) Quarters. HK-55 and Z0-0M straightened to their full height at his arrival. Oh thank the Force, allies.

“Salutations: Agent Shan, you are looking quite spry today.”

“What?” he panted as he approached.

“Yes, Agent Shan, don’t believe what anyone else is saying!” Zeeyo exclaimed, throwing her arms into the air. “Your undercarriage doesn’t look rusty at all!”

Mind sharp as a tack, Theron realized the implications of this just in time, and dodged to the side, ducking and rolling as the assassin-turned-bodyguard droid lunged forward to trap him in a bear hug. Not pausing to even catch his breath, as soon as his feet hit the ground he propelled himself forward and further down the hall.

“Frustration: I only wish to profess my admiration for you, Agent Shan!”

“Nope nope nope nope!” Desperation was starting to tinge the edges of his words now.

The metallic clanking intensified as more droids behind him joined in the chase, all of their vocabulators joining in unison to tell him in one way, or another, that he was in fact, the pinnacle of sexual prowess.

Theron couldn’t run forever, despite whatever their programming was forcing them to say, his stamina would give out before the lustftul droids’ power supplies. As the corridor zigged and twisted, he saw an opening in the form of a door sliding open. Without hesitation he dove in, shoving the individual there, thankfully made of flesh and bone, aside as he slammed the door controls.

The door slid securely shut just as the thunderous clanking filled the corridor beyond, their lustful words of appreciation and encouragement nearly drowned out by the racket. Theron hadn’t bothered to look or count, but he was pretty sure that the number had risen from three in the scant moments it had taken Theron to dart from one corridor to the next.

He held up a hand to his lips as he turned to thank the person who had unwittingly provided his temporary salvation. The words of gratitude died on his lips, as he realized exactly who’s room he had sought refuge in.

For a moment, Theron truly considered surrendering himself to the lusty droid mob.

Draike Highwind’s face was caught somewhere between confusion and amusement, but the latter was winning out as he started to decipher individual phrases drifting in from the corridor. A dark brow arched higher, lips twitching with undisguised mirth as the stupid blue droid that had started this whole mess yelled once again about Theron being a master lover.

More seconds passed, the ruckus quieting down, before silence descended once more, and it was finally safe to speak.

“So,” Draike drew out the word, somehow lacing it with more innuendo than all of the malfunctioning droids combined, “what ya been doing, Shan?”

“Nothing!” he insisted, voice still hushed just in case one of the droids could somehow hear.

“Doesn’t sound like nothing.” His brother-in-law’s smirk widened into an almost feral grin, eyebrows waggling. “Sounds like you’ve been getting... busy.”

One of the greatest mysteries in the galaxy was how one man could make anything sound that dirty. “I was minding my own business!”

“Oh, I bet you were.”

“You’re having way too much fun with this.”

“I mean...” If looks could kill, the pilot would have melted on the spot. Unfortunately for Theron, Draike was apparently immune to that sort of thing. “How often do I get the chance?”

“Did you do this?”

“Me?” Draike let out a sharp bark of laughter. “Stars, I wish I could have thought of something this good! These are memories I will cherish forever.”

Theron massaged the bridge of his nose. “I hate my life.”

“I mean, I’m not really into droids,” Draike went on, either not knowing (or more likely caring) about his brother-in-law’s predicament, “flesh is more my kind of thing. But you know, if you and the little lady need to spice things up by bringing in a little metal--”

“Please stop. I’m begging you!”

“Begging, eh? So you’re saying you’re more into--“

“Forget it, I’m taking my chances with the sex-crazed machines roaming the halls.” His palm hovered over the door sensors.

“Theron, wait!” There was enough urgency in Draike’s voice to give him pause. “It’s dangerous out there, take this.”

At first, he was honestly afraid to look, expecting to be offered something like a condom or some other bad joke, but was surprised to see the other man holding out a stealth generator.

“To escape your fans.”

“That’s actually not a bad idea.”

“I know. I’m a genius.”

“I didn’t say that.” He quickly nabbed the stealth generator before Draike could change his mind and frowned at the initials carved in the side in Aurabesh. “Is this even yours?”

“Eh, close enough.”

Whatever, beggars couldn’t be choosers. Theron would deal with those potential repercussions later.  He flicked on the power to the stealth generator which let out a low, almost inaudible hum as a burst of life engulfed his form. He closed his eyes against the sudden burst of brightness, and when he opened them again, dark spots of the light pattern danced in his vision for a few seconds. He blinked a few more times before they faded away.

He waved an arm experimentally in front of his face, and only felt the slight movement of air. Draike didn’t seem to react at all, and that was probably good enough.

“Thanks,” he said, palming the sensor to the door.

Draike rolled his eyes and ambled out into the corridor, looking around with the air of a man all too used to hiding from those looking for him. Theron watched as he raised a hand to a very slowly moving GNK power droid.

“How’s it hanging?”

“GONK!” 

“Oh yeah? You don’t say! I think I saw him head that way.” Draike pointed in the direction leading to cantina. “Just between you and me, I heard he’s sweet on that droid who’s a comfort enthusiast.”

“GONK! GONK! GONK!”

Still hidden underneath the stealth field, Theron had to bite down the urge to make any noise of frustration and just turned an invisible, irritated gaze at the other man’s back. As if sensing Theron’s irritation, Draike just grinned wider.

“Yeah, you know how those spy types are. Always toying with droids’ hearts. You could do better than him.”

“GONK!”

“Oh, you spicy droid! Yeah, trundle off that way, big guy. I’m sure you’ll catch him!”

With a loud clanking, the GNK droid began his slow and steady journey towards the cantina. As the echoes finally faded, Draike casually stretched, pointing towards the direction of the War Room.

Theron skulked on by, but not before giving his brother-in-law a well deserved whop upside the head. The stealth field flickered momentarily on the physical contact before shimmering back into place.

“It’d serve you right to get caught by doing that,” Draike sniffed indignantly, “after all I’ve done to help you.”

“When all of this is over--”

“Hush now,” Draike waved at the air in front of him. “You have bigger problems to deal with. Meanwhile, I will be heading to the cantina. And definitely won’t be live-streaming any brawls breaking out over the Master Lover breaking droid hearts everywhere.”

Theron snorted out an annoyed breath, and checked his urge to trip Draike as he sauntered off, hands jammed into his pockets as he whistled a jaunty tune. Like the purloined stealth generator, he’d have to worry about slicing and corrupting any servers containing evidence of this mess after he figured out how to stop whatever this was from spreading any further.

The upside to this whole unfortunate side encounter, was that the stealth generator made it possible for him to quietly creep around any droids he passed in the corridor. Most seemed to be making a hasty exit for the cantina, almost as if word had spread of Drake’s false rumor about his and C2-N2’s torrid love affair and every heartbroken circuit was flocking in that direction now.

And when he thought about it like that, when exactly had this become his life? Oh, right. Like fifteen minutes ago. Or however long this nightmare had started. Time had sort of lost meaning, if he were being honest.

He managed to make it to the war room, undetected and unmolested, and quietly snuck his way towards the irritable blonde Sith, holding her head in her hands as if she were battling the world’s strongest migraine. As Theron approached the Sith, he could hear her muttering under her breath in frustration. He hesitated for a moment before clearing his throat, causing her to jerk her head up in surprise.

“Who’s there?”

“Quiet,” Theron hissed. “They might hear you.”

“Oh, for Sith’s sake,” she exhaled, “where in the blazes have you been?”

“Hiding,” he whispered urgently. “These droids have all gone haywire!”

“And who’s fault is that, I wonder.”

“Not me,” he insisted, “not this time!”

“Right,” she said sardonically, “and I suppose that’s why there isn’t a reality holoseries entitled ‘Programmed for Love’ currently being live-streamed in the cantina for the entire HoloNet to see.”

“Damn it, Draike!” Theron cursed. “I thought he was joking about that.”

“Of course. How did I not see that coming?” she muttered.

“I’ll slice in and scrub all of the servers after we figure out this... this... whatever this is?”

“Your insecurities laid bare in binary?” she suggested, oh so helpfully.

“Why did I come to you for help again?”

“Because--”

It was at that point, that a probe droid, currently speeding its way towards the cantina, happened to take notice of Lana talking to thin air, and veered off its intended trajectory, heading straight for Theron’s position near the back of the war room. If the loud alarms and flashing lights were any indication, it had been able to see through his stealth generator.

Wait... those weren’t alarm proximities it was flashing. As Theron watched its rapid approach, he couldn’t help but stare at it in dumb fascination, brow furrowing as he tried to make out the images it was projecting. If he didn’t know better, he’d almost say it was a bizarre mixture of Aurabesh and hologlyphs.

He squinted, just able to make out: “DX-98 🤖🔥 Analytical  Scanner 💋🙏 Okara Droid Factory 🔍🌌💕 Exobiology Research 🥵🍑 Top HoloFans 0.7%!”

Before he had a chance to process any of that, the droid was already upon him, pincher arms spreading wide to snap him up for some purpose far beyond its original programming. He only had milliseconds to react before the droid reached him, when an explosive force sent the droid flying backwards harmlessly, and had Theron landing ungracefully on his tailbone. The stealth field fizzled out with a pop on his impact with the ground.

A familiar figure landed between him and the droid, twin blue scarves billowing behind her dramatically, blonde ponytail swaying with the motion of her movement. A small frown of concentration bunched her forehead as his wife threw a concerned look in his direction.

“You requested rescue?” Grey asked.

“Ah, my knight in shining armor has arrived,” he quipped back.

“I am not wearing my armor.” The frown of concentration morphed into one of confusion.

“I--never mind.” He pushed himself to his feet, dusting off his hands. “Thank you for the timely intervention.”

She graced him with a hint of a smile and a bob of her head in acknowledgment. “Any time.”

“As touching as all of this is,” Lana broke in sourly, “it still doesn’t solve our larger problem.”

“Yeah,” Theron rubbed the back of his neck, “you’re not wrong. It sounds like this has spread across the entire base?”

“It appears that way,” Lana said tightly. “You know, you assured me that all of this had been taken care of the last time we dealt with this issue.”

“Hey now,” he bit back, “I’m a man of my word!”

She snorted at that. “Tell that to the Umbaran Transit Authority.”

“How are you still mad about that?”

“You tazed me!”

“Focus,” Grey said, eyeing the stunned probe droid warily. “If memory serves me correct, you had a program you deployed to revert the programming of the droids the last time this happened.”

“Yes, that’s what doesn’t make sense.” He watched as the holoprojectors on the downed probe droid flickered, hologlyphs flashing rapidly in the War Room’s dim light. “I programmed it to eliminate all trace of the offending code. The only way it could be reappearing now is if someone took one of the infected droids offline before I deployed...”

Lana arrived at the same conclusion right about the time that Theron did, picking up the thought. “I seem to recall a certain someone requesting you replicate your work for less-than-legal purposes.”

Theron angrily punched the button on his comm as he growled, “Gault!”

The Devaronian’s voice came back immediately, almost a little too suave. “Theron! What a surprise to hear your dulcet tones requesting my presence.”

“Gault,” Lana managed to keep some measure of calm, “are you responsible for this current situation?”

“What situation is that?” he asked far too innocently, even as a distant call of a droid’s clanking nearly drowned out it’s loud declaration of the presence of rust on one Theron Shan’s “bolt”. There was a moment of silence before he continued. “Oh! You mean the lustful droids currently running amok on the base?”

“I’m glad we’re on the same page,” Lana said dryly. “My original question stands.”

“I am shocked, shocked and scandalized that my name would be the first to come to mind! Might I remind you, it was one Miss Djannis who requested you create her a Shan Sexbot.”

“Yeah,” Kaliyo jumped in on the comms, clearly annoyed, the sound of metallic brawling nearly drowning out her voice, “I wanted it for hilarious crimes! Not whatever the fuck this is!”

“Gault,” a third voice, Hylo Visz, cut in. From the background noise, it seemed she was in the same location as Kaliyo. “I swear, if you don’t help us figure out how to stop this, when you’re not looking I’ll cut off your--”

“Okay, okay, geez!” He interrupted before his significant other could finish whatever that threat was. “Fine, it was me! I deactivated a droid before Theron uploaded his program.”

“Of course.” Lana rolled her eyes upwards, as if asking the Force for patience.

“In my defense,” Gault continued, “originally it was just to shut the stupid thing up! But then Kaliyo came up with that brilliant idea for the Shan Sexbot Distraction, and I thought, why not hold on to this beauty in case it came in handy for a con?”

The sound of Theron smacking his forehead in frustration echoed throughout the War Room.

“So you know, just had a fun idea come to me the other day, so I extracted the original programming and altered a few things, and tried to put it into a new droid for my plan.”

“Did that droid happen to be a blue medical monstrosity?” Theron was actively massaging his temples at this point.

“I will have you know,” Gault said, “that BL-U3 is a consummate professional. You would be lucky to have him perform a medical exam on you!”

“Yeah, that was definitely his intent,” Theron shot back. “Purely professional and not lecherous at all! Which was not in any of my code.”

“Hey, I never claimed to be very talented when it came to software programming. I may have made a mistake or two when altering your code.”

“May have?!”

“How was I supposed to know that the remnants of the Gemini Frequency code in our systems was going to work after the entire Eternal Fleet had gone offline and deploy your software STD to the entire network? Sue me!”

“I’m considering it!”

Before the mostly pointless argument could escalate any further, the sounds of metallic clanking from above, roughly from the location of the cantina, began to grow closer, the cacophony increasing in volume, until it sounded like it was coming in all directions.

“That is not a good sign,” Grey’s mutter was nearly lost to the noise.

“Hey,” Drake’s annoyed voice cut in over the comm, “my livestream is now officially ruined! I hope you’re all happy!”

“I’m afraid to even ask why,” Theron said.

“Oh, it seems all of my extremely eligible and single contestants heard your voice over the comms and abandoned challenging Seetoo Enntoo to unarmed droid combat for the right to court you, and are now all headed in your direction.”

“Oops.”

“Worry not Agent Shan,” the unusually warbly vocabulator of C2-N2 came over the comms, “I will not rest until I alone can provide you with the ultimate in comfort!”

“We should probably get a different housekeeping droid after this is all over,” he told his wife.

That seemed a lesser concern to Grey, as she had shifted into Alliance Commander mode, and was currently on the comms, shouting for every available member of the Force Enclave to get to the War Room as fast as possible to help hold off the incoming army of lustful droids.

Yeah, come to think of it, that was probably more important.

“We must use nonlethal force,” she stressed, giving a particularly severe look to Lana when she said that, getting a simple nonplussed shrug in return, “as we only need to hold the droids at bay until we can come up with a solution. They are not to blame for what’s happening.”

Theron begged to differ, but she was probably right in this case. The cost of repairing or replacing an entire base full of droids would be astronomical.

As Force users began to stream in and take up position around the room, the sound of wheels racing along the metal plating caught Theron's attention, and he looked over to see a familiar silver T7-series astromech racing into the room. He tensed up instinctively at the sight of a droid, as anyone would have in his situation.

“Teeseven!” Grey called out with a smile, clearly not as wary or droidshy.

The little astromech let out a friendly whistle and series of chirps in binary, that roughly translated to: “T7-01 = Safe! // Been off network entire morning!”

“Oh, what a relief,” she breathed, “I would have hated for you to be infected with this too!”

He let out another series of beeps: “T7-01 = still in possession of original antivirus code. // Can tweak it and upload to servers = Save the day?”

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” Theron muttered.

“T7 = not scared!”

Grey’s expression melted into one of admiration and pride. “Teeseven, that’s incredibly brave -- but are you sure? Theron’s right, it could be very dangerous.”

“T7 = Jedi + Theron’s friend. // Helping > Risk!”

She looked at him and he returned the gaze with a small nod, realizing there wasn’t much in the way of choice. It was either that or let the droids overrun them. And then whatever happened when one of them actually got their hands on on Theron -- a prospect he wasn’t really that thrilled to explore right now.

“Fine,” he said tersely, “let’s do this!”

The two of them rushed over to the center console in the room, Theron pulling out his slicer spike as Teeseven plugged his scomplink arm into the main network terminal. The rest of their reinforcements from the Force Enclave arrived just in time and formed a ring around the two slicers. They managed to erect a large Force barrier just as the metallic clanging and clatter grew to a roar, announcing the arrival of the lecherous horde.

Near the front of the mob, Z0-0M threw up her arms in glee and excitement as she jumped to try and catch sight of her beloved. “There you are Agent Shan! You left before we could finish our conversation -- you were saying something about oxidation?”

“Interjection: Do not listen to this hussy, Theron! You and I will make sweet explosions together!”

Theron valiantly tuned them out as he took in a feed of the original antivirus code that Teeseven shared with him. Yes, this all looked correct. Unfortunately, he was going to need get a look to see how Gault had mutilated his beautiful original coding to know how to alter it.

Teeseven was two steps ahead of him, and a stream of code flashed across the HUD in his ocular implants. He watched in horror as he saw the butchery with his own two eyes.

“Gault, where the hell did you get this code?” he asked over the comms incredulously. “HornHub?”

“Excuse you, I only frequent the classiest places on the galactic communications grid, like HoloHump!” The growl of Gault’s name from a very angry Mirialan smuggler had him quickly adding. “You know, I’m just going to shut up and let you concentrate on what you’re doing.”

Teeseven, ever the valiant worker, ignored the conversation completely, and was hard at work running diagnostics on the altered code and the best way to modify the antivirus to address it. Theron watched the stream of letters and numbers fly across the HUD at lightning speed.

The little guy was good at what he did. He let out a flurry of beeps and whistles as almost the last piece of this very lurid puzzle started to fall into place. The little droid seemed to almost be singing along with the code as he wrote it, like a mechanical maestro conducting an orchestra. They were close, so close and--

The next whistle Teeseven let out was not his normal, cheerful way of communication, much lower in timbre and more seductive.

No.

Teeseven whirled his flat head around until his visual sensor faced Theron, and let out another wolf whistle, his holoprojector lighting up to proudly display: T7-01 🤖👀🔍 Observant 👁️🔭 Scanner 🔍🏞️ Tython 🌄👏 215 🍒♎ Repairing 👅🙈 Top HoloFans 3.6%

“What was that?” Grey shouted to be heard over the droids catcalling.

“No no no no,” Theron muttered, “we’re so close! Don’t do this to me, little buddy!”

“What happened to my precious baby boy?” Grey demanded, sweat trickling down the side of her face as she struggled to maintain the Force barrier.

Beyond the barrier, the rest of the porndroid army followed suit with Teeseven, all either wildly projecting their own series of hologlyphs and random facts about themselves and their planets of origins, while others struck disturbingly seductive poses, and a scant few demanded that “ShanDaddy” start a holocall with them in private.

With no time and no recourse left, Theron dove back into the system, yanking Teeseven’s unfinished code as he was nearly overwhelmed with lewd images and thirsty hologlyphs, struggling to finish and upload the code as the volume in the War Room rose to a crescendo just as the Force users’ began to fall, one after the other, their barrier weakening by the moment.

The overwhelming cacophony of hologlyphs, lewd poses, and robotic come-ons that had filled the War Room suddenly disappeared. All eyes turned to the droids as almost in unison, as they all powered down—a sign that their malware had been neutralized. Theron slumped back in relief, his work finally done.

Grey, Lana, and the others let out a long sigh of relief, the tension leaving their bodies in a rush.

“Thank the Force,” Grey murmured, sinking down to the ground. “I do not think I could have held that barrier much longer.”

Theron nodded, feeling a similar sense of exhaustion. He leaned back against the console, closing his eyes but was unable to banish the mentally scarring series of images that were probably permanently burned into his retinas.

“Remind me,” he said faintly, “to obliterate HoloHump’s servers. Once I’m done murdering Gault.”

“You act as if there will be anything left after I find him,” Lana said darkly.

“Remember everyone,” Grey spoke in her best and most official Alliance Commander voice, “murder is bad and frowned upon in the Official Alliance Employee Handbook.”

“Query: Why are we all in the War Room?” HK-55 asked as he came back online. “And more importantly, why is that blue meddroid manipulating its medical instruments into a heart shape, as if expressing affection towards the Commander?”

#rated N for NOBODY #swtor fanfiction #theron shan x jedi knight #Theron Shan #Female Jedi Knight/Hero of Tython #lana beniko #t7-01 #gault rennow #Smuggler/The Voidhound #the medical droid love triangle saga #oc: greyias highwind #oc: draike highwind #otp: adorkable #swtor #fanfic #greyfic #goodbye everyone i'm going to superhell #i have committed grievous wordcrimes against you all #i will show myself out #unedited and unbeta'd #we die like men #or droids in this case #fun fact: i generated those special bot descriptions for several droids #but could only figure out how to fit in two without this just devolving into incomprehensible emojis

[swtor-lewau-legacy]

((for those of you who have Jedi characters that worry about Satele finding out about their romantic relationship, namely female Consular/Felix & female Knight/Doc, she already knows, she just hasn’t said anything because she doesn’t wanna be seen as a hypocrite (although that’s not obvious until after they meet Theron for the first time, and also why she was so quick to allow female Consular and Felix to get married despite Master Kaedan’s objections). it’s male Consular/Nadia & male Knight/Kira that she’d be a little concerned about, cause, you know, Master/Padawan relationship and all that, plus Nadia just lost her dad and is emotionally vulnerable. what she needs is a big brother figure to look out for her and help her keep her emotions stabilized, not a boyfriend who doesn’t really know what he’s doing in the relationship anymore than she does.))

#swtor #star wars the old republic #jedi consular #jedi knight #felix iresso #archiban kimble #nadia grell #kira carsen #satele shan #theron shan

[serenxanthe]

After Ziost, a SWTOR Story

Part 5 (Chapters 10 - 12): The Final Part - In which Theron makes a decision.

Part 1 is here.

Part 2 is here.

Part 3 is here.

Part 4 is here.

Chapter 10

Theron didn’t get in a taxi back outside Satele’s place, it’s not like he had anywhere he needed to be, let alone wanted to be. He wandered the streets aimlessly for what seemed like days, but was probably only a few hours.

The pain in his feet from the unaccustomed amount of walking he’d done brought Theron back out of himself and he looked around. Somehow he was standing outside Seren’s apartment, their apartment for a short amount of time almost four years ago. 

He knew she’d bought it from the original landlord a couple of years ago, and they’d talked about spending some quality time here together, for old time’s sake, but somehow they’d never found the time to do so. Now they never would. Theron hesitated then tried the old code they’d used back then. Somehow he was unsurprised when it worked, and the door slid open. 

“Welcome home, Theron Shan.” the automated security system intoned, responding to his bioscan, and Theron suppressed a sob. Gritting his teeth to prevent tears, Theron walked around the apartment. Seren had kept the decor pretty much the same as he remembered, but it seemed like she’d added more bits and pieces, what looked like momentos from her travels around the galaxy, and some beautiful art. 

He sat down on the sofa in the sitting room, trying to remember the evenings they’d spent together here, happy; enjoying each other’s company, wrapped up in each other and the all-encompassing excitement and passion of a new relationship. 

Against his will, Theron’s mind drifted to the last night he’d spent on this sofa. Alone, drunk, unaccountably angry with Seren for absolutely no good reason, before he’d abandoned her without a word to head off-planet in pursuit of Zho, his old Master. The first of many times he’d sabotaged their relationship, only to be subsequently forgiven. 

He’d told his father, just that afternoon, although it felt like a lifetime ago, that he’d do better at showing Seren how much he loved her. Now he never would.

Theron couldn’t stay on that sofa any longer and he got up and went into the bedroom, hoping he’d be able to focus on the good memories better in there. He looked around, it was pretty much as he remembered, bar the tasteful planetary memorabilia.

Something else was new on Seren’s bedside table. He looked more closely, there were two holo pictures in expensive looking frames. 

He picked one up; it was a copy of the picture the guy with the cam had taken of them during their date at Skytower. She must have gone back to purchase the file at some point. He hadn’t known. He looked at it. They looked great; dressed up in their best clothes, so young, so shiny; but what really stood out was how happy they looked, how in love. And he had already loved her then, even though it was years before he admitted that to himself, let alone her. 

The other holo picture was, wait, was that Taris of all places? They were cuddled together in an empty refugee tent, one of the moments they’d snatched together during his pursuit of Master Zho and Seren’s of the Imperial spymaster Watcher One.

He remembered now; Seren had been showing him her new probe droid, BX-23, Theron laughing at her, jokingly accusing her of picking tech on the basis that it came in her favourite colour of green. Seren had got it, or ‘him’ as she  insisted on calling the droid, to take a still of them cuddling on a camp bed, clothes and faces grubby from the swampy mud of Taris, but still smiling. He’d never seen the result, but at some point Seren must have had the file converted to a holo picture and framed.

Theron confronted an uncomfortable possibility. Had Seren really loved him more than he loved her, like Jace had implied? He’d thought they were on the same page all along, but… Theron thought about all the times he’d seen Seren swallow her words, or pretend that she hadn’t seen the negative reaction on his face to any mention of too much commitment, too much intensity of feeling. He’d been grateful that she understood and regulated her own responses, he thought, disgusted with himself.

Had it taken her… death for him to realise that she was the centre of his galaxy? Not the Republic, not the SIS; her. His beloved. 

Theron kicked his boots off, shrugged out of his jacket, and lay down on what had been his side of the bed. Still clutching the holo picture of them on Taris, he grabbed Seren’s pillow and curled into it. He didn’t expect for one moment that he’d be able to sleep, but somehow he slept almost instantly; his body worn out by shock and grief.

Chapter 11

The trilling of his communicator woke Theron at 6am. Probably Satele or Jace calling to check he was ‘safe’, he thought. His head was pounding like he’d drunk a bottle of whisky last night, even though he hadn’t touched a drop in days.

Theron rolled off the bed and headed into the kitchen, hoping there was still caf making equipment and supplies here. There was a huge shiny top of the range caf machine and Theron sighed in relief. But wait, it wasn’t the one that had been here when the apartment had been leased. Seren didn’t drink caf, but she must have bought it… the realisation sent another stab of intense pain to his heart; she’d bought it for him, in anticipation of him finding the time to stay here with her. Because gods forbid I’d bother to make the time, right? he berated himself bitterly.

His communicator was still trilling, why wouldn’t they just leave him alone? He gave in and answered it. Theron was astonished to see Director Trant standing there, looking harassed.

“Shan, I need you in the office straight away this morning.” Trant said without preamble, or even a greeting.

“What?” Theron said, “What do you mean?”

Trant sighed impatiently. “Obviously you’re reinstated, Theron.” he told him. “We need every agent working round the clock to counter this new threat, and Saresh agreed you’ve been punished enough now for Ziost and the Sixth Line.”

He’d been reinstated? Just like that. Theron didn’t know how he’d expected to feel hearing the news he’d been hoping for, plotting to achieve, for the past two months, but it wasn’t this. He felt nothing. “Sure, Director.” he said, “I’ll be in soon.”

The Director snorted, “By soon, you’d better not mean two hours later this time, Theron!” Marcus suddenly realised what he’d said; having spotted where Theron was standing, properly looked at the expression on his face. 

“I’m sorry about Seren.” Marcus told Theron with genuine, if belated, sympathy. “I know she meant a lot to you.”

The blank expression on Theron’s face was instantly replaced by one of anger. “She meant a lot to me? My girlfriend of years, the only person I’ve ever loved, meant a lot to me? 

Trant held his hand out to Theron in apology, “Theron I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply…”

Theron interrupted him angrily, “She meant, she means, everything to me, Director. Everything. In fact, yeah, you know what? Screw your job, I don’t care. I resign.”

Trant felt a flash of anger himself. “If that’s really true, Theron, why weren’t you on that flagship too? Why did you spend the last two months here on Coruscant begging for your job back instead of out in wild space with her?” 

Theron’s face had gone white with shock, but Marcus didn’t relent. “If you need to tell yourself that she meant literally everything to you, that you don’t care about your job at all, to make yourself feel better, less guilty, then fine; whatever. But do it in your own time, and in the meantime get into the office like I said. The SIS, and the Republic, need you.”

Theron said nothing, just cut the call and switched off his communicator. He could feel a call coming in via his implants. Trant again. He bit down to sever the connection.

Theron spent the morning wandering the streets and back alleys of Coruscant again. He didn’t have a plan, a destination in mind, but the exercise, and the endless need for caution traversing the dangerous gang lands in parts of Coruscant at least provided some sort of distraction from his misery. Was he looking for a fight? For an excuse to take his rage, his grief, out on some lowlife? Theron considered; maybe.

Suddenly, another notification came through on Theron’s implants. The Defender was seeking permission to land at the Jedi dock here on Coruscant.

Of course! The journey back to the core from wild space was long. If they’d been travelling through hyperspace this whole time, they’d have been unable to use comms. Maybe Seren was on board! Maybe it hadn’t been her voice ordering the evacuation just before the ship was destroyed, this Corporal barely knew her after all! Theron stuck out his hand and hailed one of the taxis whizzing past overhead and headed to the spaceport to meet the Defender. 

Please let her be on board. Theron begged desperately inside his own head. Please. I’ll do anything. I’ll never leave her side again. Ever.

Chapter 12

The Defender’s crew was disembarking as Theron arrived at the landing pad. He couldn’t see Seren. Maybe she’s still inside? He reasoned desperately to himself. He knew, he knew, that that wasn’t true, but he wanted to cling on to that last desperate glimmer of hope for a few more moments.

Kira suddenly turned and spotted him, probably having sensed him through the Force, he realised, and her face tightened, red-rimmed eyes narrowing as she regarded him. She nudged Doc, the first time Theron had ever seen her touch the man. He and the rest of the crew turned to regard Theron, none of them speaking.

Kira broke the silence, “Come to get your ship? That was fast.” 

Her voice was harsh with suppressed rage, and her words made no sense to Theron. 

Kira must have seen the confusion in his face, as she continued, “You’re the sole beneficiary of her will. Didn’t you know?” She suddenly swept into a low exaggerated bow, “Welcome to your new ship, your lordship, I’m sorry we didn’t have time to clean the floors.” Her grief made her usual sardonic sarcasm excoriatingly vicious.

Theron physically flinched when he understood what she was telling him. He unconsciously stepped back, holding up his hands in denial. “I don’t want her ship Kira, I want…” he swallowed then continued shakily, “Are you… sure? I mean, did you see..?”

“No we didn’t see, but if you think we didn’t go back to check, didn’t look for her? How fucking… dare you?” Kira broke off and looked away, blinking back tears.

Theron was visibly close to tears himself, but Doc had no sympathy for him, given how he’d treated Seren after Ziost. “Still…” he drawled, “at least now you’ll be able to focus on your job.”

Theron swallowed a gasp of shock at the horrible truth of Doc’s jibe, but unfortunately for him, Doc wasn’t finished yet.

“At least you’ll be able to keep working for the SIS rather than joining Seren to raise your child on the Defender.” Doc said.

Theron was unable to formulate a thought, let alone a response, for several moments. 

“A child?” he eventually said angrily, “What child? Seren’s not… she wasn’t pregnant, she would have told me. And why the hells would she confide in you anyway?”

“She didn’t confide in me, genius! I’m her… I was her doctor.” Doc told Theron.

“She did confide in me, Theron, and it’s true.” Kira’s tone of voice was calmer and more even now, but it certainly wasn’t kind. “That’s why she asked you to join her on the Defender, not so you could be her sidekick.” 

Theron flinched again at the reminder of what he’d said to Seren, how he’d spoken to her.

“And thanks for the insight into your level of respect for the rest of us who did decide to join her crew, I guess.” finished Kira.

Theron’s head was swimming with shock, he hardly heard Kira’s jibe. “But why didn’t she tell me?” he said forlornly.

Kira gave a short bitter laugh, then said, “You know what else she confided in me about Theron? How she felt having to beg her boyfriend to show the tiniest bit of care that she almost died on Ziost, the tiniest bit of affection. You couldn’t even be bothered to stick around on Carrick Station long enough to go for a quick drink with her! When was she supposed to tell you? And how do you think that conversation would have gone, anyway?” 

Kira shook her head and spoke into Theron’s silence, “You know what? Doc’s right, Seren being gone is going to work out better for you. For your career. Now, unless you want the ship, I think you should go. There’s nothing for you here, and we’re needed for a meeting at the Senate.”

Theron looked at Seren’s crew, her ‘sidekicks’ as he’d so dismissively put it; Kira and Doc visibly grieving, Scourge and Rusk staring at him with impassive stoicism, and turned to leave. As he did so he heard a mournful series of beeps from T7. The astromech wheeled over to him, and somehow Theron somehow found himself crouching down to the droid and patting him comfortingly, blinking back tears. 

“T7 go with spy. T7 rejoin SIS. T7 + spy = find who killed Jedi.” 

Theron looked up questioningly at Kira.

She shrugged, “T7 is his own droid as far as I’m concerned, and like I told you, he’s your property now; everything is.”

Minutes later, Theron found himself in a taxi, T7 at his side. He took a deep breath, switched on his communicator, programmed in Director Trant’s frequency, and hit connect. He would find out who had killed Seren, and then he’d make them pay.

#swtor #theron shan #swtor jedi knight #swtor oc #my ocs #my writing #fanfic #star wars the old republic #angst #established couple #kira carsen #Doc kimble #T7

[the-tomato-patch]

Theron and Lana defending the Commander

#swtor #star wars the old republic #game screenshots #jedi knight #my edits #edits #theron shan #lana beniko

[commander-krios]

R & R

Fandom: SWTOR Pairing: Archiban "Doc" Kimble/f!Jedi Knight, f!Jedi Knight & Theron Shan Rating: Teen Summary: Theron plans some elaborate gift for Katona after the capture of Darth Malgus, as a way to give his Commander and best friend a chance to relax. Somehow, he ropes Doc into it. Words: 4160 Additional Tags: Canon-Typical Violence, Friendship, SWTOR Summer Gift Exchange, Fluff, Humor, Love, Established Relationship, Banter, Teasing, Background Lana/Theron

Written as a gift for @sealeneee for the SWTOR Summer Gift Exchange <3

Read on AO3

Doc was a man of many talents, most of those being of the medical variety, but he knew what he was good at and made the best of what he wasn’t. He could field stitch a wound under heavy blaster fire. He cured diseases that most people gave up on. He saved civilians while pretending to be an Imperial and almost lost his head for it.

And despite all of the years they’d spent apart, Doc was somehow married to a Jedi.

Even now, when Katona was at the head of a neutral organization, working tirelessly to see her grand plans for the galaxy come to fruition, some nights spent at the desk in her room, pouring over datapads and flimsi like he had once upon a time, she still managed to squeak in time with him. And he was humbled by it. 

But ever since the reemergence of Malgus, ever the wily Sith, Katona’s time seemed less available and the free time she did have was spent in tense silence. There were nights he’d fall asleep alone, waking the next morning to find her side of the bed hadn’t been touched. It was almost starting to feel like before, when he thought she was dead. And he didn’t like the way it made him feel.

The medical bay was silent, Elara Dorne working through paperwork while Doc restocked their supplies. It was usually him and Elara there most days. Sometimes Tharan Cedrax would show to aid them, especially during the days when they had wellness checks or a recent battle with many injured. Unfortunately, those days were steadily increasing, thanks to Malgus.

With a sigh, he closed the cupboard, only noticing that they were no longer alone. Katona’s advisor was standing in the doorway, eyes squinting against the brightness of the room. 

Theron Shan. 

Elara noticed him nearly at the same time, pretty blue eyes widening at the sight of the former SIS turned double agent turned whatever the hell he was now. “Agent Shan, what can I do for you?”

Theron’s eyes glanced in Doc’s direction and he immediately had an unsettling feeling in his gut. Something had happened. 

Theron rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, turning back to Elara with a tense smile. “I need to speak to Doc, if that’s alright.”

Worry creased her brow, but she didn’t ask questions. Elara knew when it was needed and when it wasn’t. And at this moment, it was important for her to remember decorum. “Of course. Will I need to call in anyone to replace him for the day?”

Theron nodded, his mouth turning into a grim line. “That’d be best. Thank you, Elara.”

A few minutes later, Doc followed Theron out of the medbay, not exactly looking forward to whatever secret conversation was about to take place. There were many things they could be about, but the most likely reason was Katona. About his wife. That didn’t sit right with him, he’d barely spoken two words to Theron since he’d arrived, even knowing that Katona and Theron had a friendship that bordered on a sibling rivalry. He never fit into their dynamic.

And in truth, he never wanted to. Katona had found a friend to rely on, to confide in, much like Doc had Kira, Scourge, Nadia and the other Jedi for years on Ossus. He wasn’t going to ruin a friendship when that’s all it was. He couldn't help the jealousy he felt at knowing this man beside him had been beside Katona for well over six years: fighting by her side, protecting her, helping her build something amazing. Theron had even protected her from assassins by risking his own life when Doc couldn’t. He’ll forever be grateful for it.

But even now that they’d reunited, Theron saw more of Katona than he did.

“What happened?” He asked before the door had even hissed behind them.

Theron sighed, rubbing the spot near his implant, exhaustion creating dark circles under his eyes. Katona wasn’t the only one not sleeping it seemed. “Katona… is not well. She won’t admit it, but she can barely stand straight anymore, or keep her eyes open. I don’t think she’s slept in days, Doc.”

“The stress is going to kill her.” It wasn’t an overblown reaction, it was fact. If she didn’t relax, get some rest, or even do something that didn’t involve a life or death situation, she’d never be able to continue on. If the exhaustion didn’t kill her outright, it would get her killed on the battlefield. And Doc didn’t spend the last handful of years searching for her to lose her again.

“If an Imp doesn’t first.” Theron walked with him down into the military hanger, watching as soldiers prepped for deployment or spies raced to deliver their reports. Sometimes he couldn’t tell the difference between them, even with years working alongside them. “No matter what I say, she’s too stubborn to let someone else do the work.”

“That sounds like her.” Doc smiled despite himself, glad to see some things never changed. “If you have suggestions, I’m all ears. I haven’t seen her in days , at least.”

The cold sheets of their bed mocked him.

“I, uh, was thinking of setting something up.” Theron glanced at him with a sheepish smile, clearly embarrassed by his train of thoughts. “Like a fake mission. Something that she can’t say no to, but once she gets there, it’s something that forces her to chill out.”

Doc raised an eyebrow. “You know if she finds out it was a lie, she’ll probably kick your ass.”

“I’m not afraid of her.” Theron told him, rolling his eyes.

“Keep telling yourself that.”

Theron snorted, but Doc could see his hesitation. She sometimes still scared Doc and they slept together. Katona was… well, she was something else. “Listen, we can blame it on Lana. It’s something she would do, right? Lie to get the Commander to rest. Without Katona at her best, Lana can’t do her job.”

Doc chuckled, stopping at the end of the landing pad, eyes glancing out over the beautiful Odessen scenery. He always was struck with amazement at the things the galaxy held that were untouched by human hands. He hoped there was more out there to be discovered. Because he was never tired of seeing it. “You can try, but Lana might kill you first.”

Theron let out something close to a laugh, leaning against the crude wall built into the side of the mountain. “You may have a point. Thankfully, Lana likes me enough to not do that sort of thing.”

Doc’s mouth twitched with a grin, nodding the way they’d come from. “You’re sure of that?”

With a frown, Theron glanced at the entrance of the military hanger, cringing at the sight of the pretty blonde Sith Lord… who did not look pleased.

“Theron Shan!” She snapped at the sight of him, heading in their direction with determination and maybe a little bit of anger. Ok, a lot of anger. “ When were you going to tell me about this?”

Theron winced as if she’d slapped him. “Lana, I can explain."

“Really?” The datapad in her hands nearly cracked with the amount of pressure she squeezed it with. “Please, go on. Tell me why you thought renting a pleasure barge was an appropriate use of funds.”

Doc’s eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. “You did what? ”

Theron sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s for Katona.”

Silence met their words, neither Doc nor Lana knowing where to even start with that .

“It-” Theron groaned, running his hands down his face. “It’s not going to be full of dancers or anything like that. The entire ship is set up for a fight simulation. To help train the Republic military during wartime.”

Lana stared at him in open suspicion, clearly not believing a single word out of his mouth. “Is that so?”

Theron grimaced. Oh so there was more. “There are also slot machines, gambling tables, a dance floor with good music. I think this one has a masseuse and swimming pool.”

“And you used Alliance funding for this?” She repeated, golden eyes nearly burning a hole through the man. Doc had to admit, Lana Beniko was terrifying, even for a Sith Lord. He’s just glad that he’s not the one who screwed up this time.

“Well, Katona is the Alliance Commander-”

“ Theron .”

With a quiet sigh, Doc knew this was why Theron had asked for his help in the first place. To smooth things over, to give the plan a little more viability in the eyes of Lana, and quite possibly Katona. Because neither were going to be happy about the deception, and Doc was well known for being able to make things a little less serious.

“While Theron probably should’ve ran it by you, Katona clearly needs a break. A way to blow off steam. We can work with this. Write it off as a training exercise.”

“That’s… not how this works.” Lana let out a breath, something that could be considered a sigh from anyone else. “ Fine . But when she finds out how much money went into this-”

“She won’t.” Theron assured her and Lana slanted her eyes at him.

“She will . And she will also know that it was you who spent it.” Lana smiled at him thinly. “I’m not the person who is going to cover for you when you screw up, no matter what our relationship might imply.”

Theron laughed nervously, looking at Doc for help. He only shrugged in response, not intending to get involved in that. Not when his own wife was going to be looking for blood later on.

~~~~

The shuttle lifted off a few hours later, Katona hovering behind Theron as he piloted it away from Odessen and in the direction of the pleasure barge where her simulated mission waited. A mission that she thought was a real one, with Imperials who had kidnapped a group of civilians from Dantooine. And Doc felt terrible for lying to her, but he was right about her stress levels. She needed to blow off some steam, get a relaxing massage, and do whatever else her heart desired.

He hated seeing her so worn out.

Those months during their hunt for the Emperor had been the first time Doc saw Katona crack under the pressure, the responsibilities. He didn’t want to ever see her like that again.

Once their heading was set, she moved farther back into the seating area, plopping down next to him with a groan. Stretching her legs out, she crossed her arms over her chest and glanced at him, hesitation in her gaze.

When he looked at her, he couldn’t help the smile spread across his own face despite the clear exhaustion that haunted her eyes. “What’s wrong, gorgeous? Never seen a man so handsome?”

“If I said no, would you start quoting poetry? You’ve already gotten me into bed, you know. And tied me down with that ridiculous wedding you concocted. You don’t need to try so hard anymore.” Her eyes still glowed slightly in the dim interior of the shuttle, but they softened as she watched him. 

He chuckled, feeling some relief at how relaxed she was. Even over eight years after meeting her, she still surprised him. “I’ll never stop wooing you, beautiful.”

Katona rolled her eyes, but he could see the beginnings of a real grin on her face. “And I’ll never stop making fun of you for it.”

Her hand slipped into his and squeezed slightly, her eyes on the window of the shuttle as they approached the barge. Doc felt a thrill of excitement in his gut. He wasn’t sure what her reaction was going to be when she found out that this was a setup, but he was so glad to have her here, with him , and to see that she was ready to kick ass. He never tired of seeing the fire in her eyes, or watching her on the battlefield. 

Or holding her close when all was calm in the galaxy.

“I’m glad you’re here, Doc.” She said, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, the smile finally curling her full lips. “I miss this .”

He heard what she didn’t say. She missed him and damn it, he missed her so much it sometimes hurt. “You miss listening to me scream during a firefight?”

“Among the other times you scream.”

Theron coughed suddenly from the pilot seat and Doc smirked, enjoying watching Katona’s best friend squirm in his seat. 

“What’s wrong, Theron?” Katona asked, clearly enjoying his discomfort as well. “Lana doesn’t make you squeal?”

The flush went from his face probably all the way to the tips of his toes. “That’s… none of your business.”

“I guess that’s a yes.” She murmured, snorting before her gaze shifted back to his. “But really, it’s been lonely without you around. For the last few years, I’ve wondered where you were. If you were alive. It sucked not knowing. Not a feeling I care to have again.”

“Is that why you’ve thrown me in the medbay with Elara? To keep me safe?” He should be annoyed by that, but found that he didn’t care about the reasons if it meant that Katona always kept him in the back of her mind.

“That wasn’t my decision. Lana felt your work with Nadia and the Jedi was more important to continue than forcing you into a combat situation.”

“I’d follow you anywhere, beautiful. Even into the depths of hell. You know that.”

Katona rolled her eyes, but she didn’t let go of his hand, her smile never slipping from her face. It was a nice break, sitting here with his wife, even if they were going to be fighting a bunch of droids soon. He wished the galaxy would give them more moments like this, where they can be nothing but Katona and Doc. Where they didn’t need to save everyone all of the time.

“We’re landing. Get ready.” Theron called from the pilot’s seat, putting the shuttle into autopilot. 

Katona squeezed his hand before letting go. “Like old times?”

“Not quite.” Doc responded and with a grin, he met her curious gaze. “But it’s better. Because I’m with you.”

Katona wasn’t the type to blush, but he swore he saw a hint of pink on her cheeks. “Flattery gets you nowhere with me, Doc.”

“It’s not flattery if it’s true, gorgeous.”

She laughed and his heart squeezed at the sound. “You’re also a terrible liar.”

Shaking his head, he followed her to the exit, knowing that the playful banter was over. Katona had a mission to complete and she would see it through no matter what. Theron joined them a moment later, double checking his blasters. Doc grabbed his medical kit, securing it to his back even though he doubted they would need it. Not a single droid was going to stand up against Alliance Commander Katona.

His feet touched the metal grating as he jumped from their shuttle onto the barge, steps echoing as he pulled his own small blaster, eyes darting around the dark landing pad, seeing nothing but grey durasteel and a few shuttles. No people. No droids. No movement. Nothing.

“It’s too quiet.” Theron muttered, glancing in the opposite direction. 

Doc almost snorted, but managed to hold it in. An actor Theron Shan was not . “We have a Jedi here. I’m sure she’ll have no issue warning us-”

“Duck!” Katona shouted, pulling her lightsabers from their spots on her belt, igniting both simultaneously, the white crystals glowing eerily against the barge’s grey interior.

Doing as he was told, Doc huddled near a shuttle that wasn’t the Alliance’s, blaster fire aimed at him leaving burns in the hull. Katona threw herself into the fray with no regards to her safety, only intent on destroying her enemy. Her lightsabers slashed in a wide arc, severing the head from the closest droid in a shower of sparks. She spun, shoving one of the swords into the one beside it, leaving a burning hole in its middle.

Ducking another blaster bolt, he lifted his own weapon, firing on the droids that appeared out of a side door, aiming their shots at Katona. She turned again, deflecting the shots before jumping into the group of them, swinging her lightsaber in a circle and cutting them in half.

With as aggressively as Katona fought, the battle was over in a few minutes, nothing but sparks and smoking electronics left of their foes. The shuttles in the landing bay didn’t fare as well as Doc had hoped although their shuttle took the least amount of damage. Whoever was here partying was definitely going to need someone to repair the ships before they could leave.

Katona returned to his side, checking to make sure he wasn’t injured before doing the same for Theron. Once they were certain of their health, the men followed the Jedi into the hallway, door shutting behind them with a whoosh of finality. 

“Theron, did you have the schematics for this place?” Katona asked, eyes peering into the darkness ahead, voice quiet but determined.

“It’s built like any other pleasure barge. Uh, not that I know.” He finished quickly. Katona completely ignored him, holding her lightsaber out like a glowrod, trying to light her path. “The hallway leads to a few side rooms where guests can sleep, a medbay, a dining room, before it leads directly to the main area.”

“And the prisoners? Where would they be kept?”

Doc rubbed the back of his neck, feeling like someone or something was watching them. “Probably in slave cages. Those would be near the private dancing rooms. Off of the main section.”

She only glanced at him, not bothering to ask how he knew about the slave cages. Because she knew him… knew of his dangerous missions against the Empire. Knew that he was going to do anything to save people from being subjected to the evils of slavery and other awful tortures at the hands of the Sith.

And he always would, until they finally killed him. Because the people… they didn’t deserve to suffer.

“Ok, so we know where we’re going.” Katona said instead, turning away to continue on through the darkness. “Let’s go.”

They met several more waves of droids on their path, Katona making quick work of each of them. Theron threw Doc a glance at once point, concern etched on his features, eyes full of worry. This was too easy. Katona was going to suspect something was up if they didn’t have some type of challenge.

The waves of droids were supposed to get progressively more difficult the better you did in the simulation. It didn’t appear that it could keep up with Katona’s aggressive fighting style. Sooner than they wanted, they stood outside the large double doors that led to the main room of the pleasure barge.

Katona’s eyes trailed over him briefly, softening when she realized he was unharmed. “Be careful in there, both of you.”

“That I can do, Commander.” Theron replied, checking his blasters once more, ready to finish this.

Doc smiled at his wife, wrapping a hand around her wrist, thumb brushing gently against the skin there. “Let’s go, beautiful.”

The door opened, strobe lights hitting them in shades of green and gold, lighting up the inside of the room more so than the dim orange lights that hung overhead. A group of droids hung near one of the sabacc tables, no prisoners in sight. Thankfully, there was most likely no actual group of prisoners. Just droids and the people who ran the simulations.

A large droid approached, flanked by a few of the smaller droids they’d been fighting along the way. It didn’t attempt to talk, to negotiate, to do anything but lift the barrel of its weapon and fire. Theron rolled out of the way, ducking behind one of the slot machines near the entrance, a blaster bolt nearly hitting him.

Katona shifted in front of Doc, lightsaber deflecting the attacks as they backed up quickly. Doc crawled under a table, ripping the medpak from its spot on his back and keeping it ready to go. Then he fired at the smaller of the droids from his new cover, giving Katona the opening she needed to slice through the enemy.

He managed to hit it in the power coupling, frying its circuitry and it dropped into a pile on the ground, the droid behind stopping momentarily to deal with the new obstacle. Katona’s lightsaber left her hand, cutting the droid in half before launching herself at the largest of them, catching the saber in midair. 

The droid turned as she landed in front of it, ducking the moment it aimed its guns at her. Theron was keeping the other droids busy, his blasters doing considerable damage. Doc cursed, praying that the droid had its guns on stun, not kill, and tried to get a decent shot in.

None came, but it wasn’t needed. Katona spun on her heels, lightsabers leaving arcs of white light behind as she slashed the droid to pieces, a ferocity that was simultaneously beautiful and terrifying. A few seconds passed in silence, the droids sparking until they finally shut down with a groan. 

Theron left the safety of his cover at the same time as Doc, watching the droids for any sign of movement. Once they seemed to be in the clear, he turned just in time to see a group of men approaching, all wearing fine clothing and smiling brightly.

The man in the lead clapped his hands excitedly, grinning from ear to ear. “Dear Commander! I hope you enjoyed my simulation. I must admit, I didn’t expect you to breeze through it as easily as you did.”

“What?” She glanced at the man, who was even shorter than Doc, her eyes slanting in suspicion. Her gaze swept over him, taking in everything about him in seconds. “What are you talking about?”

“The simulation? Your friends contacted me about it a few weeks ago.” The man puffed himself up, gripping the front of his jacket, looking like he was about to burst from the size of his ego. “I hope you enjoyed yourself.”

“I…” She trailed off, unsure of how to respond, glare wavering. “Sure, it was great.”

The man smiled, although it seemed he was waiting for some kind of bowing and praise. “Well, I hope you enjoy our hospitality, Commander. There is much fun left to be had.”

When the men disappeared to finish prepping the “relaxation” portion of her gift, she glanced at them.

“This was a set up?” She asked, eyebrows lowering, a look of frustration on her face. “Why?”

“We thought you needed a break. Something to blow off steam before some relaxation. You deserve it. Everything with Malgus… it’s running you into the ground.” Theron rubbed the back of his neck, eyes nervously flickering between Katona and Doc. “Doc agrees.”

“I agreed that she needed a break, but I’m not the one who spent millions of credits setting this up.”

“And Lana? I assume she already threatened you within an inch of your life.”

Theron chuckled nervously, eyes dropping to his feet. “Yeah. But she thinks you need a rest too, Katona. You work too hard.”

“We’ve barely seen each other since I joined your Alliance. It might be selfish, but I missed you.” Doc lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to her wrist. A smirk curled her lips. “Are you angry?”

She rolled her eyes, huffing a laugh. “You know when I’m angry. I can forgive you this one time.”

“It’s because of my charming good looks, isn’t it?” Doc teased Katona, following as she went to check out the food provided by the company. “You can admit that it’s a primary motivator for you.”

Katona snorted this time, glancing down at him with not quite affection, but something that still set his blood on fire. “You’re not the one who needs to worry.”

Her eyes sought out Theron as he picked through the spread, not even realizing they were talking about him now. When the spy glanced up, he saw that Katona and Doc were watching him. “What?”

Katona laughed, a single sharp bark that had Theron widening his eyes in fear. 

“Am I going to lose sleep over this?”

“Maybe. How much money have you put us out?”

Theron muttered something under his breath, turning his gaze away, knowing he was screwed. 

“That’s what I thought. Don’t worry, Theron. It’s not going to hurt that much.”

Katona’s best friend sighed and walked away, mumbling under his breath about Jedi and Sith and something that Doc couldn’t hear. Not that he cared when there was food to be eaten and a wife to spend time with.

#my writing #swtor summer exchange #swtor summer gift exchange #swtor #star wars: the old republic #star wars the old republic #sealeneee #swtor fanfic #swtor fanfiction #jedi knight #f!jedi knight #archiban doc kimble #archiban frodrick kimble #swtor doc #theron shan #jedi knight x doc #f!jedi knight x doc