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wizardofrozz · 1 year

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Crescendo

Commander Fox x senator!reader (fem), OCs (Caitri and Clone Trooper Cayde)

Word Count: ~3.3k

Warnings: light swearing, mention of war

A/N: It’s finally here! I’ve been impatiently waiting to post for the @cloneficgiftexchange and I’m excited it’s finally time. My gift is for @homie-one-kenobi and I picked Commander Fox for her prompt “I am convinced you never graduated kindergarden.” I tweaked the prompt a little to fit into the SW universe a little better but I hope you like it! 🤍❤️

Chaos. There was no other word for the state of your apartment but absolute chaos. Members of your team were buzzing around every inch of the space and all you could do was stand in the eye of the storm and hang on. Between TC-26 chattering anxiously about the mess, your assistant cutting in every few minutes about another event you had been invited to, and the muffled sound of your wardrobe manager arguing with their staff, it felt like your head was going to explode. You nearly snapped when a gentle hand landed on your shoulder.

“Unclench a little,” Caitri teased, moving to stand at your side. You let out a slow, measured exhale, glancing at your dear friend with a pleading look.

“Can I run away yet?”

“If you take me with you,” she chuckled, folding her hands over her stomach. “Come on, you aren’t excited to go home?”

“Not when I have so much to do here,” you huffed, stifling the urge to cross your arms. “I know the gala takes place at the same time every year but it seems like I’m busier than I’ve ever been before.”

“A galaxy-wide war will do that,” Caitri sighed, her head turning synchronously with yours to watch TC-26 hobble past. “On the bright side, everything is just about ready.”

“Oh thank the Maker,” you breathed, letting your head drop forward.

“The shuttle is mostly packed and the hyperspace jumps are calculated. All we’re waiting on now is your security detail.” You turned a narrow-eyed glare on your friend, already anticipating her light ribbing. A small squad from the Coruscant Guard had been tasked with escorting you home, a non-negotiable stipulation sent down from the Chancellor himself. It made sense with how often senators were being attacked but their presence wasn’t what bothered you.

“Please don’t start already,” you muttered, massaging the spot over your right eye.

“I wonder what commander they’ll send,” Caitri mused, completely ignoring you.

“Don’t get your hopes up,” you insisted, taking a step back to make room for the trunk of clothing being carried toward the door. “Commander Fox is in charge of the entire Guard; he has better things to do than escorting a senator home for a party.” You had to force the words out, stuffing down the spike of disappointment. Fox had been one of the first clones you met at the start of the war and to your surprise, he took a liking to you. He was one of the people, aside from Caitri and a few other members of your team, that you felt normal around. Trading quiet jabs when you crossed paths, which only made your growing crush that much harder to hide.

“You never know,” Caitri sang, nudging your elbow. You immediately rolled your eyes to keep up the front but deep down you enjoyed her teasing. It made you feel like a regular young woman gossiping about a cute boy instead of a prim, professional senator.

“I do,” you argued, scanning the mostly empty living room, “but knowing Fox, he probably assigned Thorn to the detail.” You bit your lip to hide a smirk as you glanced at her out of the corner of your eye. At least you weren’t the only one with a crush. Caitri opened her mouth to argue but TC-26’s voice cut her off, the jade-plated protocol droid shuffling to your side.

“Excuse me, mistress, Marshal Commander Fox is here to see you,” she informed, tilting her head slightly.

“Oh, uh, thank you, two-six,” you stammered, darting your eyes to the dark figure near the doorway.

“I suppose I’ll meet you at the shuttle,” Caitri chuckled, bumping you with her shoulder as she moved for the door. Fox returned her nod as he passed, slowing to a stop a few feet away, hands folded behind his back.

“Senator,” he greeted with a nod.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Commander?” He hadn’t removed his helmet yet but you could picture the smirk on his lips solely based on the cant of his head.

“We’re set to depart shortly, correct?” he asked in a tone that implied he already knew the answer.

“We,” you sputtered, blinking rapidly at him. Fox’s rigid posture loosened, his arms falling to his sides as he looked around the room needlessly.

“I am in the correct apartment, right?”

“Oh shut up,” you sighed, twisting your mouth to the side when the urge to smile was almost overwhelming. His shoulders jumped with a quiet snort, your pulse fluttering when his dark visor lifted to your face again.

“I’m leading your security detail, in case you were wondering,” he explained, motioning for you in the direction of the door. You turned your head just enough to scan his mostly red faceplate. As you approached the door, Fox stepped to the side, resting one hand on his stomach and extending the other, leaning forward to usher you through the door. You made sure to twist enough that he could see your exaggerated eye roll.

“If you’re here, then who’s running Hell?” you quipped, raising a brow. Your stomach flipped when Fox jolted forward, a strangled laugh coming through his helmet’s vocoder.

“Well, I have always said Thorn’s a demon spawn,” Fox laughed, falling into step with you. A hand shot up to try and muffle the string of giggles that fell from your lips, his head turning to look down at you. “But, to answer your question, the boys weren’t taking no for answer.”

“That’s sweet of them,” you said, a faint smile still lingering on your lips, “you’re always stuck on Coruscant.” Fox shrugged in response and a part of you wondered if he was secretly excited to see a new planet. He fluidly side-stepped behind you when one of your aids came hurrying towards you, making you hyperaware of his presence looming over you. The landing pad came into view but Fox didn’t return to your side, electing to cover your back as you stepped into the afternoon sunlight. The muscles along your spine tightened when you felt the muted brush of his hand near your waist through layers of fabric.

You were starting to wonder if this was a bad idea.

Returning home to the madness of gala preparation was the last thing you wanted, especially when your mother was in charge of planning. You had barely stepped off your ship before you were whisked off, the five clone troopers standing a little stunned at the bottom of the ramp. It was astounding how much still needed to be done the day before the gala, leaving you to force down a frustrated scream. As if you weren’t stressed enough.

Fox eventually found you standing in the banquet hall of the palace, angrily scrubbing at your tired eyes. You had finally snuck away for a minute of silence, your head spinning with the list of tasks that still needed finishing. His faint footsteps had you spinning on your heels, lashes fluttering when you were met with his bare face.

“You look like shit,” he noted, raising a dark brow.

“Thanks, just what I wanted to hear,” you huffed, rolling your eyes. His observation was a little harsh but it was nothing new; Fox had always been a grump but you liked the change of pace. The people around you were always sugarcoating their true thoughts, using flashy explanations to soften the edges. You appreciated the blunt honesty he offered…most of the time.

“Welcome,” he deadpanned, stopping at your side. You let out an extremely unflattering snort but you couldn’t find the energy to care, especially when the corner of Fox’s mouth lifted. “Here, thought you could use this.”

“Oh,” you chirped, blinking down at the steaming flimsy cup. The smell of caf finally hit your nose, bringing a soft smile to your face. “Thank you, Fox.”

“Think I got it right this time,” he mumbled, carefully watching you take a sip. His shoulders relaxed enough for you to notice when you nodded; you blamed the heat rolling off the drink for the warmth in your cheeks.

“Did you find your, uh, uh, sleeping areas?” you asked, wrinkling your nose as you stumbled over the word you were looking for. Fox didn’t seem fazed despite only ever seeing you at your best around other senators.

“Mm, we did,” he answered, tilting his head back to take in the decorations hanging overhead. “Cayde might steal one of those pillows though.”

“Go for it,” you laughed, letting your gaze linger on his profile. You already felt some of the stress melting off your shoulders simply by Fox’s calm presence. Suddenly he looked down, warm brown eyes finding yours, making your breath catch. He was always intense, giving the feeling he was staring into your soul, flaying you open with a single look. It made your chest feel too small and you had to stop yourself from swaying closer.

The near-frantic shout of your name shattered the moment and you stifled a sigh, turning to face whoever was hurrying into the room. You jumped when a warm hand gently curled around your elbow, drawing your attention back to the commander beside you. Fox tugged you a little closer, ducking his head to keep the conversation between you and him; your heart rate picked up, rivaling the pace of a drumroll.

“Try not to stress too much,” he murmured, lightly squeezing your arm, “I’m sure the event will be amazing.” He released you without another word, the ghost of a smile on his lips before he slid his helmet on again. You watched him stroll out of the room until he disappeared, forcing you to absorb whatever the anxious staff member was trying to tell you.

You hated that the feeling of his warm breath against your cheek would haunt you indefinitely.

You almost thought about refusing to leave your bed and burrowing under a mound of blankets instead of getting ready for the gala. Of course, Caitri would never let that happen but one could dream. The royal family’s home was buzzing with excited energy as the guest arrival time drew closer and although you were exhausted, you weren’t immune to the high spirits. You had caught glimpses of red armor here and there as you helped with any last-minute preparations, however, none of them were Fox.

You finally got a chance to take a breather when guests started to arrive, the hall filling with beings dressed in their finest. You tried to convince yourself you were scanning the room for Caitri and not a certain commander when you caught a glimpse of plastoid near the door. It was slightly worrisome when you didn’t see him, mainly because you were so exposed, not that you felt like you were in danger but protection was their job on this trip.

“Looking for someone, milady?” a familiar voice rumbled in your ear. You didn’t turn to face him immediately, especially when you noted that his voice wasn’t masked by the vocoder in his helmet.

“In fact, I was,” you replied, looking over your shoulder. Instead of a startlingly white shoulder bell, you caught a flash of starched, gray fabric that had you twisting around. Fox’s head was angled down, the lights spaced around the room highlighting the streaks of gray peaking out from under his hat.

“Hm, maybe I can help,” he mused, allowing his eyes to wander lower, appraising the dress you had settled on.

“No need, I’ve already found him,” you countered, bumping your shoulder into his chest. Big mistake. You had never seen him in anything but plates of plastoid armor but this uniform emphasized the width of his shoulders; your tongue was glued to the roof of your mouth as your eyes followed the subtle curve of his biceps.

“Must be a lucky man to draw the attention of such a beautiful woman,” Fox said, meeting your eyes on the last word. Warmth bloomed in your cheeks and you desperately wanted to turn away but held his heavy gaze.

“Mm, well he looks quite handsome as well,” you countered with a playful smile. His confidence wavered for a moment, the tips of his ears turning pink as he ducked his head with a husky laugh.

“Who knew GAR-issued grays could make that possible,” he teased, his gaze softening. You turned to fully face him, making a show of scanning his figure, humming under your breath, and ignoring his half-hearted eye roll.

“I think they suit you,” you complimented, resting a hand on his arm. Muscles flexed under your fingers, Fox’s eyes fixed on where your hand sat before he held out his other hand, palm up, in your direction.

“Care to dance?” That threw you for a loop, your brows arching up as your lips parted. That was probably the last thing you expected him to ask, although, you couldn’t bring yourself to deny the offer.

“I would love to,” you whispered, gently placing your hand in his. The crowd had filled in, forcing you to press tighter against Fox’s back, not that you were complaining. The ensemble was playing a light classical piece, a range of other couples swaying along to the music, allowing you to blend into the crowd. Fox found an empty pocket, turning to face you only to hesitate. Your hand was still resting in his and you used the point of contact to ground yourself before taking a step closer.

The distance closing spurred him into action, his arm circling your waist to rest a hand on your lower back. The warmth of his palm seeped into the fabric of your dress, searing the feeling into your skin, forcing you to shove down a shiver. You followed his lead, resting your free hand on his shoulder, a little closer to his heart than was custom but he didn’t seem to mind. For a moment, you worried he would feel the drumming of your heart when he pulled you closer but every thought was ripped from your head when you looked up.

The soft golden lights overhead made his eyes twinkle, the sight stealing the air from your lungs. You wondered if he had any idea how handsome he was. Then, as if he was out to completely turn your world upside down, he took a step to your left, your feet following on instinct.

“You know how to dance?” you blurted, staring wide-eyed at his slightly smug expression.

“Don’t seem so surprised,” he scoffed playfully, leading through the next few steps.

“Can you blame me?” you huffed, wrinkling your nose to stop from smiling. “With some of the ridiculous things I’ve seen the Guard do, there are times I am convinced you never finished your kindergarten modules.” Fox’s mouth fell open, attempting to look offended but the amusement dancing in his eyes told a different story.

“I’ll have you know, I was a great student,” Fox argued primly. “I thought Seventeen was going to cry when I passed.”

“From relief,” you snickered, digging your teeth into your lip when he narrowed his eyes. The glare only lasted a few seconds before a huff of laughter passed his lips; you fought down another shiver when you felt it brush against your lips.

“Mm, you might have a point,” Fox chuckled. You were thankful for the years of etiquette lessons that had your feet moving on autopilot because you were entrapped by the soft smile on Fox’s face. He looked happier than you’d ever witnessed, making the longing you managed to hide well enough come back with a vengeance.

“Who’s Seventeen?” you asked, hoping to distract yourself. The plan backfired when Fox’s smile grew and all you wanted to do was feel the curve of it against your lips.

“Alpha-17. My - well my batch’s older brother,” Fox explained, glancing at something over your head before his eyes dropped back to your face. “The alpha class clones were assigned command cadets to train and to keep an eye on; Seventeen was ours.”

“He was older than you?” you wondered, soaking up the chance to learn more about Fox.

“It’s hard to explain,” Fox mumbled, his brows pinching together. “Physically, yes, he’s older.”

“What is he like?”

“Brutal,” Fox answered immediately, though he was smiling. “However, it was fun to watch him run ARC training because the others had no idea what they were in for.”

“He sounds like an interesting character,” you chuckled. Fox blinked at the sound of your voice, almost like he forgot who he was talking to, but recovered quickly, clearing his throat.

“That’s an understatement,” Fox mumbled, shaking his head. “Yet, I wouldn’t have wanted anyone else. We’re the soldiers we are today because of him.” Your face softened and before you could talk yourself out of it, you slid the hand resting on his shoulder to his face.

“You’re the man you are because of him,” you argued quietly. Fox’s eyes widened, and his grip on your other hand tightened as he slowed to a stop. The gala’s commotion died down to a distant buzz when you met his eyes, the intensity of his stare making your stomach clench. When had his face gotten so close?

“I - I think the song ended,” Fox whispered, eyes shifting between yours.

“I think you mean the second song ended,” you giggled, pulling your hand out of his to rest it on his shoulder. He immediately curled his arm around your waist, caging you against his chest but you could feel the hesitation in his movements. You sucked in a long breath, deciding this was the perfect time to put your news into words for the first time. “You know, this is my last gala as a senator.”

“What?” Fox snapped, going rigid under your touch.

“My senatorial term ends soon,” you explained, brushing your thumb along the edge of his stubble. “I’ll be reassigned as an advisor instead.”

“So you’ll stay here?” he asked, a crease forming between his brows. You caught the hint of disappointment in his voice, a swarm of butterflies erupting in your stomach.

“No, I’ll still reside on Coruscant but I won’t hold any weight in the senate,” you answered, finally letting the corner of your mouth twitch up. Fox just looked at you for a moment, then the pieces fell into place and he leveled you with an unimpressed look.

“You couldn’t have started with that?” he grumbled, shaking his head. His ‘irritation’ only lasted a few seconds before his features softened, nervous energy hanging around his shoulders. Then you caught the glimpse of something giving way like a weight had been lifted. Fox slowly leaned closer until there was barely any space between your lips and his, his forehead almost touching yours in a gesture that nearly brought tears to your eyes. The world slowed, the party becoming nothing more than background noise as you swayed into him. “Tell me to stop and I will.”

“Why would I do a stupid thing like that?” you breathed, sliding your hand around to the back of his neck to pull him closer. It was hesitant at first, lips meeting for the first of many kisses you’d share with Fox but you already knew there was no going back. If he hadn’t pulled away, reminding you of the environment around you, it would’ve been so easy to get lost in the feel of his lips. Fox didn’t go far, letting his forehead fully rest against yours as a hand slid up to cup the back of your head.

“Never thought I’d live to do that,” he confessed, tracing the bottom of your hairline with his thumb.

“I’m nowhere near finished with you,” you giggled, bumping your noses together, “so don’t go dying on me now.” His laugh was airy, almost disbelieving but he canted his head slightly, lips hovering a hairbreadth away.

“Yes ma’am,” he whispered before capturing your lips again.

A/N 2: Clone trooper Cayde is one of my Coruscant Guard ocs that I created a while ago, meaning he’s not the same trooper that was introduced in the bad batch.

#commander fox x reader #commander fox x senator!reader #commander fox #coruscant guard #cc-1010 #star wars #the clone wars

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rexxdjarin · 7 months

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OC: Mari Vontas Pin Up Commission

I commissioned one of my best friends @nell4now to do a pin up of Mari for me and it came out so fucking BEAUTIFUL💙💙💙

The story goes that Mari was such a powerful advocate for clones in the Senate during The Clone Wars that she was widely known, beloved, respected and lusted after by many, many clone brothers (much like her mentor Padmé). Though this pin up photo was taken using Rex’s helmet specifically for his own personal use and safe keeping (inside his chest plate and found in several special places inside his personal barracks for reasons 😈👀), the photo eventually circulated amongst the 501st because of a certain cheeky arc trooper (cough cough FIVES cough cough).

She became a sort of symbol for all clones of the life they might find themselves wanting if and when the war ever ends and knowing that the very woman herself was fighting her own fight within the bureaucracy to make that happen was an added bonus to her already insane sex appeal.

Mari, ever the exhibitionist, didn’t mind one bit because she was proud to give the boys something to dream about besides war and a life they didn’t choose. And it only fueled her unending desire to fight for the rights they all deserved.

And as for Rex? Well, he got the personal glory and satisfaction of knowing he had the heart and soul of the woman the whole GAR loved. She’s his girl and god damn he’s as proud to be hers as she is to pose like this for the man she loves and reveres above all others.

#thank you sooooo fucking much for this Nell #she’s SO beautiful and exactly like I pictured it #oc: mari vontas #oc: mari vontas art #digital art #procreate #captain rex x oc: mari vontas #wip unwritten #unwritten

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hellhound5925 · 2 months

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HERE IT IS 🙌🏻 THE MOMENT LONG AWAITED

Cyare Verd

*OC Raven x Hunter

A/N: Welcome back! I apologize for taking so long but ☝🏼 I edited my original story up to the fourth chapter only to decide I still didn’t like it so guess what I edited the same four chapters again 😅

I’ll start by saying, yes it still follows the season two storyline of The Bad Batch (unoriginal I know) but I did change it up quite a bit. If your looking for Omega (lol) shes gone 👋🏼 I was never a huge fan of her so I wrote her out 🫣 otherwise, I hope you enjoy the new version of my fic. I will be taking it off Wattpad and AO3 in the meantime so I can finish making edits.

Oh, one last thing. If you would like to be tagged please drop a comment or send me a message ☺️ Thank you from the bottom of my heart for taking time out of your day to read this. It means the world to me.

Anyways. Without further ado 🤲🏻 I present to you my updated fic 💖

Prologue/Background

Raven (If you see this. It’s the Pov for the following)

Before order 66 went down, I spent my time on Kamino training new batches of clones for the Grand Army of the Republic. I met many of the troopers who lived there during the time including Sargent Hunter of the infamous Clone Force 99. Our interactions were usually quite brief but there was a certain charm about him I enjoyed from our very first encounter. However, I was there to perform my duty to my clan and that always came first.

It was an honor to continue the legacy my father - Kal Skirata - left behind. He and my brothers - the Null ARC’s - have been off trying to thwart a plot they didn’t realize would lead to order 66.

During that time, Kal’Buir had asked that I stay on Kamino not only for intel but also to get out any defecting troopers.

A friend of mine, who is another Mandalorian by the name of Aspen, posed as a supply ship for myself. She would drop off supplies or bring me an array of random items I asked for to validate her being there. Aspen would then smuggle troopers to Mandalore where they were to live out their days as they wished. A part of our clan. Clan Skirata.

When order 66 did finally happen, my brother Ordo had warned me to prepare for something big that would be happening soon. Whether or not he knew exactly what I’ll never know.

For the first few days, I lingered on Kamino waiting for any one of my brothers or Kal’Buir to contact me but it didn’t come. About a week later a droid appeared in my quarters with a message. ‘Get out now. You’re in danger Sen’ika (little bird).’ Kal’Buir was the only one who ever called me Sen’ika - mostly because I hated it but he could get away with anything.

Shortly thereafter, I packed my things discreetly and called for Aspen. She came within a rotation claiming the usual - that she was here to deliver supplies for me - and to my surprise they let her in.

The minute I was on her ship, the two of us left. We ended up on the planet in the mid rim. Where Ord Mantell became our temporary home.

Chapter One: Cid’s Parlor

Raven

Standing out in the busy streets of Ord Mantell, the sun beats down on my beskar fighting the darkness that rests on my shoulders. I will my feet to move it’s as if this weight is too much for them to carry.

My irritation radiates off me as the thunderous pitter patter pounds in my head each time a citizen passes by - must be nice to live so carefree - I think to myself. Yet they pay me no mind, even though the very nature of my armor is intimidating.

The dull black shein of a well-worn helmet that sits upon my head, with the infamous T shaped visor. The rest of the plates are the same color with a few iridescent feathers poking out from underneath. Ironic right.

This armor is my pride and joy. It was a coming of age gift - if that's what you want to call it - from my father. Kal’Buir was by far one of the greatest Mandalorians in the history of our people - though my opinion might be biased.

A wave of sadness washes over me at the thought of him, my family, my brothers, and my best friend Aspen. Shaking the thoughts from my mind I tell myself they wouldn’t want me to sulk. Aspen would smack me if she were here. Unfortunately, the two of us had to go our separate ways after getting into some trouble. What else is new?

Aspen has always been the friend I can count on for anything. We met as kids on Mandalore and practically grew up together. Once we were old enough, the two of us would drink - a little too much - and run our mouths. Sometimes I’d come home with a black eye and Kal’Buir would say ‘I hope the other guy looks worse’. With a osik (shit) eating grin he knew I could handle myself.

Eventually that trouble caught up to us. When I had been on Ord Mantell before, she and I got into it with a group of merc’s and Cid saved our skin. Usually I didn’t pick fights we couldn’t win but that time I did.

That was just after our home was bombed by the Empire. My family. My clan was there as far as I know. Rumor has it the surface is no longer safe. The blast destroyed everything and killed everyone. Grief does funny things to people.

Since then Cid feels we owe her every time she calls. Aspen was smart enough to ignore her but I can’t leave business unfinished. I don’t like owing people anything.

Bitterness courses through my veins and I find my feet moving through the doorway.

Hunter

Cid's Parlor is loud and crowded - as usual. Which for enhanced senses is why I prefer the solitude of the ship. Let’s not even get into the stench of hot bodies and alcohol might put me over the edge.

I take a deep breath to steady myself and push out the overwhelming sounds and smells, in an attempt to tune back into my brother's conversation. Echo and I were discussing whether or not the Marauder needs maintenance. Which is true it does. However, we don’t have the credits.

One glance over at Wrecker and its obvious Tech is beating him - again - at dejarik.

With a sigh and a gentle swirl of the pint in my hand, I watch as the amber liquid spins like a world pool. The sickly-sweet smell of blood orange and yeast reaches my nose. I let myself get lost in it for a moment, the scent totally washing over me.

The weight of the things we have had to endure begins creeping in. My men. Their safety and well-being are my responsibility. Crosshair.

Before I’m sucked too far into the void, my senses pick up something that wasn’t there a moment ago. Dark, sweet raspberry, rose. I’d recognize that scent anywhere after the hours I’d spent committing it to memory.

Lifting my gaze from my glass, it’s pulled like a force of gravity as a Mandalorian female enters the parlor. A warmth washes over me mixed with a little relief at seeing that all too familiar T-visor. I can’t contain the shock that creeps on my face at her presence or the memory—

‘Alright everyone, today we go over the basics.’ Her voice is crisp but not cold, giving orders and yet…silky smooth. I could listen to her speak to the regs all day.

She continues barking out orders which I recognize as the basics for hand-to-hand combat. I stop listening about half way through just to commit her to memory.

Covered head to toe in dark black beskar, her visor drifts over the group of men before her. The small frame is quite a contrast to the 6ft Clone troopers in formation. She has such a commanding presence, exuding confidence. My eyes roam over her curves and stop at the dual westar -35’s attached to either side of her thighs. For a moment I swear my heart might leap out of my chest—

Raven Skirata.

My trousers suddenly become constricting forcing me to shift uncomfortably. We only ever ran into one another a few times on Kamino. Mostly casual conversation about war efforts. The sound of her laugh when I told her about some of the things we’d improvised on missions, is one my brain never lets me forget. I never did get the courage to ask her about herself.

Raven crosses over to the bar and my eyes follow her every move. It’s only now that I notice she’s skinnier than I remember. Her complexion is quite pale in comparison to the dark circles under her eyes. The sight causes my chest to tighten. What the hell happened?

"Long time no see. I was starting to think you wised up" the Twi-lek bartender says by way of greeting. There's a long pause as the Raven drops her shoulders considerably.

"Unfortunately, I'm a little low on rations to be wise" she shoots back, that silky smooth voice taking on a sarcastic tone.

Having caught the attention of a rather large man - whose been talking loud enough for everyone in here to hear - he leans over to speak to her.

"Wow, that must be real beskar.......Wonder what kind of price someone would pay for th-that...." He slurs a little at the end.

In one smooth motion, Raven ejects her vibro-blade from her vambrace - the steel practically sings - slamming his head into the bar top with the other hand. A loud thud follows. Some of the patrons stop talking to stare while the Twi-lek laughs.

Pressing her blade to his throat she leans in close she sneers, "Try to take it from me and I'll find out how much someone will pay for your head.”

The man proceeds to mumble and she cocks her head at the bar tender as if in annoyance. Letting go of the man he slumps to his knees before getting up and stumbling away, hand pressed to his temple.

I have to work had to suppress the smile that threatens to creep onto my face, the corner of my mouth twitches anyways.

"Don't mess with Mandalorians" Echo chuckles, drawing attention. Raven glances our way tensing. Mentally I command myself to look away but I can’t. For a moment I swear, even through her visor we make eye contact.

Raven

After I’m satisfied I’ve put this man in his place, I let go and he slumps to the floor. Comments fly from over my shoulder but there’s that voice I’ve heard thousands of times that stands out.

I can’t help but turn and that when I see them. The red and white plastoid. Thanking my ancestors for the helmet, I roll my eyes at just how ironic it is they are here. Sargent Hunter and the Bad Batch. He and I have spoken a few times on Kamino but the others I’ve never officially met.

Frozen in place, I stare for a second. The Sargent doesn’t take his eyes off me with an unreadable expression. If I’m lucky he won’t recognize me - I think to myself. Forcing myself to move, I turn back to the bartender with a finger in the air, signaling I’d like a shot.

My gloved hands make their way to my helmet and gently slide it off, letting my messy blonde braid at the back of my head fall. Lately I find myself caring less and less about what I look like.

Placing my helmet on the bar top, I take a breath to steady myself before taking the shot. The burning liquid a welcomed punishment if nothing else.

The bartender nods over my shoulder and I sign knowing what's coming.

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes" Cid says, throwing an arm over me like we are old pals.

I roll my hazel eyes "I'm not here because I want to be. Lets get on with it" I grumble.

"No 'Hi Cid, how are you?'" She asks.

"Nar'sheb (shove it)" I say in my native tongue with a polite smile on my face. She has no idea what I said to her but there's a snicker from someone close by.

————

"Remember what happened last time you threw your attitude around like that? " Cid scolds me as we enter her office.

Picking dust off my flight suit I sass, "I'm not here to discuss my 'attitude'. What's the mission?"

Cid moves behind her desk and crosses her arms "Fine, I need you to help out a group of fine gentlemen." She starts to explain, her tone a little too...chipper.

I raise a brow, shifting my weight and hum my dissatisfaction.

Cid immediately gets defensive, “Look it’s not my fault you mandos like to find trouble. You’re just lucky I was there to bail you out. Besides, these guys could really use someone with your skills. Dooku's private stash is being relocated by the Empire and I want you to help them get as much as possible".

The fact that she said Empire had my attention and attitude immediately shifts.

"I thought you might like that and I promise I'll give you 20%" she continues noticing my mood lighten.

"30 and it's a deal" I counter.

"Hey! I gotta pay those other guys too. I feel I'm being quite generous.”

I guess for considering who I’m speaking with… "Fine 20%, Now who are these guys?"

"They call themselves the Bad Batch. Wait here I'll go get them" she doesn’t give me a chance to respond before she heads out the door.

For a moment I stay where she left me and contemplate my next move. I can either play it like I don’t know them and take the chance their Sargent will recognize me or…

With an annoyed sigh, I stride over to her desk and set my helmet down before scanning the book shelves. Most of these I’ve read during my ‘spare time’ when Cid let me crash here before. Not surprisingly, there’s nothing new.

Leaning my back against one I take my gloves off and unbraid my hair. The blonde waves fall loosely over one shoulder ending just below my breast. It’s a wonder I ever let it get this long but a part of me just can’t bring myself to cut it.

I make myself comfortable at her desk, leaning back and kicking my boots up on it, When Cid flings the door open and scowls at me. My stomach ties itself into knots but I try to seem disinterested by playing with my hair.

There’s a chance these guys decided like the others to side with the Empire. But the odds they did and they are here? Slim but not zero.

Pushing off the desk I stand and stroll around to the front, leaning against it. A few golden strands fall into my face with the movement. My hands naturally side down towards my blasters holstered at my sides. A defense position that’s become muscle memory. The Sargent eyes follow my every move.

"Take it easy there Mando these are the good guys."

Cid rolls her eyes after seeing my body language. Once again in typical Cid fashion she hid this from me, likely knowing I wouldn’t come.

The largest one of the 4 pushes past.

"I'm Wrecker! I like to blow stuff up!" He says very loudly, sticking out his hand. My body is further tensing.

I hesitantly shake his hand, which compared to mine - even with gloves on - looks like it could easily crush it.

"Wrecker, I feel that last part was not necessary" says the one holding a datapad.

"I am Tech by the way.”

Nodding by way of greeting, I quickly glance over at their Sargent. Had I blinked I would have missed the split second of recognition before the mask of a leader slid into place.

The one with a socket arm glances over at him. Probably from the tension radiating off of me. Those amber eyes see me for exactly who I am.

My breathing picks up, but I quickly get it back under control. The former doesn’t seem to notice, not taking his eyes off me.

I decide to meet his gaze with a challenging one. Hoping to hide whatever it is he sees.

Shaking his head like he’s having a difficult time dragging himself from thought, introduces himself.

“I'm their Sargent-well was their Sargent...Hunter and this is Echo" he gestures to socket arm.

Echo waves at me with his socket and a soft smile. I nod slowly and clear my throat.

“I know who you are.”

Tech lifts his eyes from his datapad to look at me once again. Before he or anyone else can I say anything I continue,

“Raven. Raven Skirata.”

————

When I start towards my ship - alright so it's not really my ship, I stole it - I was so deep in thought I almost didn’t hear someone call out to me.

"Wouldn't it just be easier if we all went together?"

I stop not bothering to turn around "How do I know you won't leave me behind?"

If these are the clones I’ve heard so much about, there’s a good chance I can trust them. However, my instincts are telling me not to. Echo, almost like he is reading my mind says,

"You can trust us, we aren't like the others".

The sorrow in his voice fills the space between us, making me uncomfortable. I roll my shoulders, hands flexing at my sides.

Without saying anything I head up the ramp to my ship, gather a few things in my pack, and come back out to see Echo standing where I left him. The rest of the group must have gone to their ship. With a small nod he leads the way.

As we approach, I stop for a moment before heading up the ramp to admire the hull before me. An Omicron class attack shuttle but it’s been modified. It’s just as impressive if not more so in person. My brothers - specifically Mereel and Jaing - would have loved this thing, I can practically hear them fighting with even Ordo for who would pilot.

With a few steps up the ramp, I peer inside and it’s notably clean. Briefly I take in the surroundings noting the others up front in the cockpit area. Echo glances back at me sensing my hesitation.

“I’ll show you around”

I tip my visor towards him appreciatively, without saying a word.

————

Echo finishes the tour with the bunks, two on the left and two on the right. He gestures to the right, showing me which one is mine and offers me a gentle smile. With a quick glance I realize there are only 4 of them.

“Hunter usually stays up in the cockpit. You get his bunk.”

Great.

I nod my appreciation again and take my pack off my shoulder. The only things in it are a couple changes of regular clothes and some rations. I've not got much to lose that isn't my beskar these days.

Placing my pack on the lower bunk, the mythosaur skull on the back of my gloves stare back at me with hollow eyes. It’s almost like they know. Our people are gone. For a moment I wonder if anyone will even remember what it means.

I forgot Echo was still standing there until his throat clears. He says carefully, “Your father is Kal Skirata.”

My heart starts to thunder in my chest at the mention of his name. I finish settling my pack before I turn to face him. A part of me wants to answer but it feels like my mouth is full of cotton. I mentally thank my ancestors for the visor between us.

“He was one of my instructors. In my early days I mean. He was always really good to us. I heard about what he did...he got some of us out.”

Silence fills the space. I slide my helmet off, tucking it under an arm. Unable to look him in the eye, my boots seemingly interesting all the sudden.

“He’s gone.” My voice almost doesn’t sound like my own. Distant.

“Too many good people have been lost because of the war. I’m sorry to hear that.”

In his kind words, the galaxy feels a little less lonely. I finally lift my head and meet his gaze, seeing the loss there.

“I’m sorry for your loss too.”

Echo only offers me a somber smile in response. My walls go back up and I decide to change the subject. It comes out a little sassier than I had intended.

“So, you all have enhanced something or other right? I mean I was on Kamino and spoke to your Sargent a few times but mostly what I know is what I’ve heard.”

”Each of us had a unique quality. Wrecker is brute strength, Hunter has enhanced senses, and Tech is really smart.”

”Wasn’t there another member? Crosshair?”

Another sad look from him, “He chose the Empire.”

“Ah” I nod my understanding. “How do you fit in here?”

He rubs the back of his neck and chuckles.

“I was originally with the 501st under General Skywalker. We were on Skako minor and I was blown up. Captured by the Techno union and they made me mostly a machine.” Echo lifts his socket arm as a reference.

“My Captain. Rex. He and the Bad Batch rescued me. I owe them everything.”

That name. Captain Rex. It sounds familiar. ”No offense but you just met me and you trust me enough to tell me all this?” My sass once more evident.

He smiles and says “Your father spoke highly of you.”

My throat closes up at the same time pride washes over me. When I don’t respond he continues.

“I’ll leave you to get settled in” and with that he turns and heads toward the cockpit.

I watch as he reaches the others and takes a seat. Unable to do anything else other than process what he just said.

————

It takes me a while to recover from the conversation. A part of me hesitates to comm Aspen but I can’t risk compromising her.

Instead, I take my time to check my weapons (two blasters at my hip, vibro blade in my vambrace, and the various blades stashed in my boots and under my back plate). No one bothers to check on me, which is just as well. Finally, I end with checking the HUD in my helmet - which seems to be functioning fine.

Discarding my helmet on the bunk, I head for the cockpit where the others are chatting quietly. The hushed tones likely to prevent me from overhearing. Hunter stiffens as I approach which only confirms my thought.

The four seats at the front were taken up by each of the members. Leaning against the doorway I cross my arms over my chest plate.

"We don't have a reason to trust each other but once this mission is over and I'm paid, I'm gone. You won't have to worry after that.” The annoyance plastered on my face is visible to all.

They all glance at one another except Hunter, his eyes fixed on my face like he’s trying not to look anywhere else. He almost looks hurt at my comment.

"That seems reasonable" Tech says very matter of factly.

”Great. So, what's the plan?”

“Get to Serenno and scout the area." Hunter says turning his attention to space zooming by at light speed.

I sigh, "That's not much of a plan but I can improvise."

Wrecker chimes in, ”Ahaha you’ll fit right in!” Awkward silence fills the space before I break it.

“Right. Well I guess we should all rest up so let me know when we land.” Spinning on a heel, I head for the bunks.

Next Chapter here.

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clonemedickix · 8 months

Text

Primer, my love, as he wonders what the hell his General is doing … now. (Cause she’s always into something)

OC CT-5609 Captain Primer, first in command of Dragon Company

@cloneloverrrrr @starrylothcat @king-chaos-world @mandos-mind-trick @sunshinesdaydream @anxiouspineapple99 @dystopicjumpsuit @mire-draws-things @blueink-bluesoul @theogfulcrum22 @the-bad-batch-baroness

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Rating: M

Word count: 4k

Pairing: Captain Rex, OC General Lara Lin, OC Primer, Volte and Boost, Clone Force 99, Darth Vader

Warnings: violence, fighting and mortal wounding, grief and angst

Excerpt Summary - Vader and his master released Lara’s greatest enemy from his prison in an attempt to get her killed. Confronted with no other way to stop him, she makes the choice of self sacrifice to save her beloved clones.

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NOTE: Full work is NSFW, 18 and under DNI, MINORS DNI

Excerpt beneath the line:

Primer and Boost knew this was a trap, knew they were the bait. It had been too late to send a second transmission to wave them off, and they’d come to realize that the great black entity hiding within their cave was here for Lara. No one else would have been of consequence; the thing wanted her. The two clones heard the comms on the stormtroopers squawk, and the troopers inclined their ears to listen to the shoulder borne receivers. Aircraft approaching, everyone stand ready. Primer and Boost looked at each other and then glanced back at the other clones in the group; they all sensed something was up.

Shortly after, they saw the shapes of the Marauder and the drop ships from Nidhogg coming in, flying right past all of the Imperial ships as blatantly as day. There had been no point in trying to hide their landing; the fleet in orbit had allowed them to land, as these ships in atmosphere were doing. So the clones proceeded to land right in front of everyone, hoping it made a statement of just how much they didn’t care what the Empire thought of them. The doors to the ships opened, and the Dragon Company, the Bad Batch and Rex climbed down from their transports and stood on the beach, taking stock of all that was happening before them. Rex saw Primer and Boost stuck in the very low tech pen in the center of the stormtroopers, with Cut and Suu among them. Something caught Rex’s attention off to the right, and he looked over to see a very tall figure in all black standing in front of a Nu class shuttle, watching them as they disembarked from their crafts. The figure was arresting to the attention; wearing a large black mask full of life support machinery, a chest plate with more medical equipment, a thick padded suit and a black cape to match. He was an imposing figure, and Rex couldn’t take his eyes off of him.

“Rex! Y’all need to get out of here! LEAVE!” Primer shouted suddenly from in the pen. Watching the Man in Black, whom they had learned was called Darth Vader, Primer suddenly felt a wave of panic, knowing that if Rex and Echo were here, Lara was about to show up, and that was what Vader and that thing in the cave were waiting for. He saw Rex’s head snap around having heard him, and saw Rex more or less freeze, uncertain of what to do next, distracted by the figure of Vader, who was staring at Rex as if there were no other clones on the beach.

The ground started to shake, as if the first tremors of an earthquake were starting, and Rex saw the Floston clones all start to group up, nervously. Their wives were crying, almost in a panic, as if they knew something was coming that Rex and the Dragon Company couldn’t see. A dark, massive figure was emerging from the cave. It was cloaked in smoke, completely dark and seemingly made of flame and brimstone. It had smoldering red eyes which stared at the clones balefully as it advanced on their holding pen from the cave entrance. The monster carried a huge sword strapped to its back, and a large whip on its hip. Its steps were like peals of thunder as it approached, the ground shaking with each ponderous stride. Rex looked up at the monstrosity in awe and fear, then horror. The sword, this creature - he’d only heard of one such creature in his life, and that had been from stories Lara had told him of her early life, when she’d been created to defeat Morgoth the Deceiver and his evil lieutenant Sauron. She had always maintained that Sauron was completely destroyed in their final battle, and Morgoth imprisoned for eternity, but there was really only one entity this could be. And if he was here, then Lara was in grave danger.

A piercing cry split the air, a familiar roar, from far behind and over the sea. Primer and Rex both closed their eyes in defeat; Lara had come. The monster stopped and stood tall, searching the skies to find his arch enemy. Baiulus flew in, landing in a rush, his wings still flapping to help stop his forward motion. Lara leapt from his back and ran forward to Rex and the others, her eyes on Morgoth the whole time, a horrible resignation written on her face. Rex looked at her expression and asked “What is that thing, Lara?” Lara gave him only the briefest glance, more of a grimace than anything. She was focused entirely on the smoking, hulking black figure, who stared back at her with an eager look in his red flaming eyes. Light was growing around her, swirling like she was the center of her own storm, the star at the center of a planetary system. Rex saw all the stormtroopers start to retreat from their posts, headed back to their shuttles. They scrambled aboard as if trying to escape the smoky monster as fast as possible, and the ships started taking off quickly. Baiulus roared powerfully, standing tall in challenge to the creature before them. Lara watched the retreating troopers quietly, seeing the form of Vader standing on the loading ramp of one of the shuttles, watching her as they lifted off into the air.

Lara sighed, a sound of disgust and defeat, exhaustion and resignation; she knew only Vader and his puppet master Palpatine could have done this, unleashing this being before her. For it was none other than Morgoth the Deceiver, the veritable demon she was created to guard against, destroy if necessary. He was the most powerful force of evil in the universe ever to exist. Lara wondered for a brief moment if she was enough for this; could she defeat him and remain alive, herself? This battle could very well demand her life, and she felt sure Vader had gone along with this plan in an effort to remove the two most powerful, ancient beings that could stand against himself and his master. Their goal was to destroy her, to let Morgoth destroy her for them.

The beast suddenly spoke from within the dark flames, his voice as evil as his appearance. “The Guardian of the Balance and the Guide of Souls, come to offer me battle. I must thank the Sith who released me by means of their Old Magic. An opportunity to defeat my greatest enemy, and the spawn within you, is simply too good to pass up.” Morgoth laughed richly, as he watched Lara stand tall, seeing the curve of her belly where her child rested within her. “With your death, and the death of the Child of Promise, I will rule supreme over the Universe, and there will be nothing Eru Iluvatar can do to stop me, with his pet daughter defeated. I will end you, and end the line of your man. I will crush these menial beings you love so much and make you watch as I extinguish their light before you.” He laughed again, enjoying his taunting, watching the expressions of disgust and hate play across her face.

Lara sighed tiredly, her hand reaching up for her great sword. Her eyes passed over all the clones quickly, and then settled on Primer. “You need to leave, Primer. Get yourselves to the ships, now.” Lara looked over at Rex and simply gazed at him quietly, saying nothing for a long minute. “Rex, you need to leave as well. Get back on the Marauder, and all of you get out of here. You cannot help me in this fight. Having you here would only be a hindrance.” Her eyes were grave, and it made Rex feel abject panic.

“No, Lara, I’m not leaving you! Absolutely not!” Rex was shaking his head, starting to reach for her, when he saw her glance behind him, looking to Primer and Boost. Volte was standing with them as well, helping herd the rescued clones onto the freighters.

“Primer, you three get Rex off this planet now! Get him to safety, and all of you get out of here! That’s an order!” Lara’s command stopped the three men in their tracks and the force of it made Rex gasp. Lara’s loyal clones paused but a moment, then reached over and grabbed Rex bodily. Lara quickly stepped to Rex and kissed him, then focused on his eyes, wanting to capture their look and color one last time, if indeed this was to be her end. “I love you, Rex, but you have to go.” Her expression was one of pain, a grimace at the excruciating feel of severing one’s soul. She looked and nodded to Primer, and the three Dragons wrestled Rex back to the Marauder, where Echo was standing, also starting grasp the direness of the situation. Echo started to protest along with Rex, and moved to force himself past the Dragon Company clones, intending to fight his way down to Lara. A huge hand grabbed him by the arm and another reached past him to grab Rex. Wrecker had heard Lara’s command, and while he didn’t fully understand why she’d made the order, he knew it wouldn’t help the General for the two men she loved most to get in her way. Rex was screaming Lara’s name, fighting Wrecker’s grip as hard as he could, Wrecker pulling him all the while back to the Marauder’s ship ladder.

Having seen Wrecker secure Rex and Echo, she’d made eye contact with the big clone and nodded to him in thanks, feeling a real, deep love for him in that moment. Faithful Wrecker; her eyes were sad and his full of desperate concern for her, but he did as she had commanded. Primer, Volte and Boost stood beside the Marauder with the Batch and her Dragons backed up to take position on their ships, while Lara turned and strode over to Baiulus. She climbed on the dragon’s great back, and when she settled herself between his shoulders, they saw her drop her head for a moment, steadying her mind and taking a breath. When she let that breath out slowly, the clones all gasped in unison as light spilled from Lara, revealing her true form as the goddess she was. It was like seeing a star suddenly appear in their midst. She was so bright, they could barely see her outline within the pure, blue white light, and the stones of the Silmarils within her crown radiated light like beacons. Lara reached down and patted Baiulus on the neck and said “Okay my friend. It’s time. Show him what you’re made of.” Baiulus shook his head and roared powerfully, drawing himself up a bit like a snake preparing to strike. Bright golden flames suddenly shot from between his great scales, streaking down the line of his body and revealing him to be made of the very flames that burned within his mighty breast. Lara’s men all stared in wonder at both their General and the dragon, unaware that this was who they’d been serving alongside all along - while they’d accepted she was a goddess, here was the living proof of it.

Lara reached up and pulled her great sword over her shoulder, placing her helmet so seldom used on her head with her left hand. Baiulus stood to his full height, spreading his great leathery wings and hauling down with them to generate thrust, pulling himself skyward off the ground. He carried Lara forward, taking the battle to Morgoth. The skies above them filled with dark, threatening storm clouds, and wind started to swirl around them, picking up dust and debris. Lightning crashed, striking the ground with great peals of thunder. The monster stood, his flames and smoke swirling about him, pulling his darkness in as if wearing a heavy cloak. He reached down and pulled the coiled whip off his belt and drew his great sword to match Lara’s move. There would be battle. He was ready.

The dragon surged forward, tucked his wings and darted in towards Morgoth’s face. He spat fire at the monster’s eye, and Lara heard Morgoth roar in anger, as he reached up to swat at them like an annoying fly. Baiulus surged past the monster’s head and banked to come back around; Morgoth let fly with his whip, which broke out into flame. The tip of the angry flail made contact with Lara’s back as Baiulus flew past, and with a cry she fell from her mount’s back. The clones watched in horror as she streaked to the planet’s surface like a meteor.

Lara got back up; holding her great sword in her right hand, she drew her short sword. She would fight Morgoth from the ground. Baiulus could continue to harry him from the air. She could do this. The smoking monster swung his great sword and brought it crashing down on Lara with enough power to cut her in half, but she withstood the blow, crossing her swords above her head to block. She called the power of the Force to her and it seemed as if a glowing dome of light covered her - a small shield against his blows. Morgoth followed the sword strike with a lash of his whip, the lashing tip breaking through the Force’s energy. It struck her ankle and yanked her off her feet. She gave an angry grunt and scrambled back to her feet, working to defend herself with one of her swords. Morgoth spun and kicked her, sending her flying backwards to skid almost fifty feet in the dirt. Lara felt for the smallest moment that she’d had the wind knocked out of her, and she rolled to her side quickly and looked back at her troops. The clones all realized as one - Lara was heavily outmatched. With the cold grip of terror in their hearts, they wondered how she could possibly win this battle? The men suddenly knew paralyzing fear - they could very well be watching the death of their beloved leader, right before their eyes, and of the child within her.

Lara got back up, crouched low and watching the monster above her as it was momentarily distracted by Baiulus’ furious attack. The dragon bit and clawed at Morgoth, ripping large tears in the once beautiful god’s body. The blood that poured down his skin burned like molten fire, and he got in one good swipe at Baiulus, flinging the dragon away from him. Lara had taken that moment to rush Morgoth, trying to get in below his gaze, but he turned back and suddenly rammed his great sword into her gut, a gleaming smile of evil on his dark face. Their eyes met for a long moment, and he laughed into hers, speaking in the ancient language of the Aïnur, that she and her Father Iluvatar might hear: “See this, my Father. I have killed your daughter. I will have the Silmarils, the power of their light shall be darkened for eternity.” He laughed aloud now and suddenly turned his blade, widening the insertion site for maximal damage, then yanked it from her body as she collapsed to her knees, blood flowing from her freely.

It seemed time stood still for a moment. Rex saw Lara turn her eyes to meet his, then Lara looked to Echo, and moved finally to meet Primer’s gaze. She held Primer’s stare for a moment, and internally she screamed to him, “Primer GO! Get everyone off Floston. Baiulus will open the portal for you. I have to destroy this planet to destroy him. There will be nothing left. GO!” Rex watched her in dawning horror. The look on her face - she was about to do something awful. Something permanent and terrible.

Primer screamed an order for all the ships to take off; Rex only vaguely heard the words inside his head because he was staring at Lara so intently. The freighters and LAATs took off, and Primer, Volte and Boost ran to the Marauder, climbing aboard and hauling Rex into the ship’s interior. Primer turned towards the cockpit. “Tech, get this ship off the ground, NOW!” Tech did as told, quickly, hauling back on the collective and gunning the Marauder off the ground. Rex scrambled to the rear gunner’s mount to see Lara’s shrinking form as they pulled away; he saw the massive shape of Baiulus streak past them, heading for higher altitude. The dragon quickly passed the ships and opened a massive portal before them; the Empire’s blockade would not be able to stop them leaving. Rex, Echo, Primer, and Volte sandwiched themselves into the gunner’s mount in time to see Lara turn to look at them one last time.

I can’t win this, Lara thought wearily. But maybe, just maybe I can take him with me. Lara felt her life flash before her eyes with the decision made. She saw the beautiful face of her Elenna, laughing in the sunlight as they streaked along, galloping their horses across the green fields of Rohan, the wind lifting their hair. Battles she’d fought and won, screaming in triumph with her warriors. The moment she’d met Rex, the sight of his warm brown eyes gazing back at her. Laughing with Echo at her desk on Coruscant. Making love to Fives, the feel of his hands on her body. The look on Wrecker’s face in the hallway of Admiral Trench’s ship after she destroyed the droid sentry. Waking up on Nidhogg and seeing Primer’s face above hers. The feel of her child within her; her hand went to her belly for a moment when she realized - she was no longer alone in this life. She was giving up so much, to save the men she loved. Her motley family. It was worth it, all of it.

Lara looked back at the retreating form of the Marauder, tears shining in her eyes. She reversed her great sword in her right hand and brought it to her chest over her heart, bowing her head in farewell. In her heart, through her bond of blood, Lara spoke to her men. “I love you all. Take care of each other. I’ll always be with you, a part of you, and I’ll see you again on the shores of Valinor.”

Rex heard her message within his heart, and registered the shocked looks on Echo and Primer’s faces. They both looked horrified, stunned into a silence that felt like someone had grabbed their hearts and squeezed them into stillness. Rex started to yell back “NOOO! Lara NOOO!!” He started to beg, and plead, and claw at the glass of the ship canopy. He wanted off the ship, he wanted to get back to her. He didn’t care if that meant he fell 20,000 feet to get to her.

Lara watched as the ship continued to climb, seeing that the Imperial ships were also climbing back to space, evacuating the planet. With a weary sigh, Lara took her great sword, and called all of her power to her, all the power within the planet itself, all of the Force - even the power of Vader and Palpatine. She drew it within herself, as if settling a heavy cloak about her body, and Vader watched from a far distance out the windscreen of his ship, feeling his power draining away from within him, as the light surrounding Lara grew into the pure light of a white star, the winds surrounding her so strong that the very air grew alive with static electricity and lighting split the sky, striking around her nearly every second. For the briefest second, the small part of Anakin within Vader welcomed the feeling of his power draining away, hoping there was some chance for the goddess he’d once called a friend.

Lara looked up at Morgoth and took a deep breath to steady herself. She felt a sudden surge of rage and frustration, bitter loss rising up to choke her and she felt the need to scream at the beast before her. She had a flash back to her time spent with the Vikings, the memory of their berserkers and Valkyries giving strength to her fury. Still she pulled power to her, even as she started to speak.

“Lo, there do I see my Father.” She turned away from the retreating form of the Marauder to face the black horror of Morgoth. “Lo, there do I see my Mother and my Sisters and my Brothers!” Lara concentrated, drawing more and more power of the Force to herself. “Lo, there do I see the LINE OF MY PEOPLE, BACK TO THE BEGINNING!” She took two long strides toward the cursed form of her ancient enemy, the enemy of her people and of all creation. “Lo, they do call to me! They bid me take my place among them, in the halls of VALINOR, WHERE THE BRAVE MAY LIVE FOREVER!!!“ A briefly quirky idea crossed her mind like an inappropriately timed giggle - they won’t mind that I adapted the prayer a little, she thought. She raised her eyes to the nightmare of darkness standing before her, his cruel smile taunting her.

Lara swung her great sword in an arc over her head and then brought it down with her short sword, stabbing them with both hands into the earth before her and connecting suddenly to the power of the Force she had gathered as she let out a scream of fury, like a Valkyrie in battle. The light of that power expanded out from her like an exploding nebula, a nuclear blast strong enough to destroy all in its radius. Almost in slow motion the men on the Marauder could see the ground around her, the surface of the planet, and the body of Morgoth in front of her fracture into pieces, his flames and her light mingling then roiling forward in a great parabola of light as the pressure wave of power pulsed forward. Tech saw the shockwave of the blast coming behind them and out of the corner of his eye he registered the massive form of Baiulus swoop over them, opening a portal. He gunned the ship through to save them all, leaving the sight of Lara’s destruction behind in a growing asteroid field where once there was a beautiful planet of paradise. He heard Rex screaming behind him in the back of the ship, saw Omega’s face pale and streaked with tears, and Tech himself started to feel tears spill down his cheeks, his breath struggling to come out in something short of a sob.

“GO BACK!!!” Rex was beside himself screaming. “We have to go back, we have to get her!” He was so desperate he was about to tear the ship apart, and he suddenly moved to the door to open the hatch. He could pressurize his helmet; he could skydive back to her. He wasn’t leaving Lara there. Wrecker watched Rex’s frantic movements through blinding tears; he finally grabbed Rex to stop him from hitting the button to open the Marauder’s hatch. He held Rex in a great bear hug to restrain him, while Rex fought him like a mad man. Primer looked over at Volte with a heartbroken expression and nodded once. Volte pulled a syringe from a case in his pocket and quickly stabbed Rex in the deltoid to sedate him. Rex crumpled in a limp heap on the floor, a look of betrayal on his face aimed at the two Dragons. Volte reached down to check on him quickly, then stood and looked around the room at the faces of the clones. The men were all silent with despair, all crying, trying to grapple with the loss of their beloved General. Primer looked up at Echo, seeing the man’s face was wet with tears; Echo suddenly brought his hand to his face and turned to sit on the floor where he’d been standing, sobbing softly into his glove.

#worksbyclonemedickix #the clone wars fanart #the clone wars fanfiction #starwars fandom #captain rex #OC General Lara Lin #OC Captain Primer #OC CMO Volte #the bad batch #the clone wars #starwars the clone wars #the clone wars fan #starwars fanart #star wars #the clones #myloveforthesemenisnotnormal

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jedi-princess-kestis · 1 month

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Pairing: Clone Medic Kix / F! OC

Summery: After a long and tremendous battle, the 501st and the 212 have a moment to sit down and have a relaxing moment together. Kix and Brit make sure that they know their Brothers in arms know just how much they love them.... And the couple reminds each other how much they love one another.

Warnings: swearing, talk of war and blood, drinking, smut (minors be gone!), fluff.

Word Count: 3K +

Tired.

Ha! That was an understatement.

More like dead inside.

That's how the 501st and the 212th felt after a week long battle. One that never seem to end. Clone medic Kix was tried from treating all the wounds and injuries among the men and the Jedi. He worked endlessly alongside his Partner and girlfriend Brit Jetmarr. She was a beautiful woman with a big heart. Her shoulder blade length blonde hair was piled up into a bun on top of her head. She had green eyes, green like the forests of Naboo. Her sunkissed skin seemed to glow in the soft sunlight of the early morning light. Dried blood was on her hands and arms, same as Kix's. They had spent most of the night patching up a badly wound clone trooper. It seemed like the blood and death and pain was never going to end In this campaign. Kix watched as Brit rolled her shoulders and hung her head trying to relieve some of the tension in them.

When he first met Brit it was a few short months after he became the head medic of the 501st. She was bright eyed and eager to learn. Only 21 when they met, having grown up learning to be a doctor her whole life. She was from Naboo, and was close friends with the Senator, having gone on mission with her as a healer till she become more intuned with surgeries and other things to turn her into a medic of war. Now her eyes seemed a bit duller, her skin a bit less smooth, her hair shorter and thicker. Her once pretty nails where now clipped close and dull. On Naboo she wore makeup, now she worn none. But to Kix she was still the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. He hated how the war was taking a toll on her, aging her faster then she deserved. Draining the life from her tired soul.

"Come Darling, let's get something to eat. Maybe we can find a moment to rest." Kix said softly as he took her hand and brushed his thumb over her knuckles. He watched as she smiled tired at him and nodded her head.

"Come on then." Said in a honey like voice as she tugged his hand. They walked hand in hand to the dining hall of the camp. Kix opened the door and let her walk inside first, running a tired hand over hai short hair. The couple walked over to where the food was being served and grabbed a plate of food. Kix carried her plate for her, letting her pick a table. Brit sat down next to Jesse, who was sitting with Rex, Cody, Hardcase, Fives and Dogma.

"Hey boys, Captain, Commander." Kix said to his brothers.

"Hello Vod. Hello Brit." Jesse said as he patted Brit on the shoulder. Brit smiled up at the Arc trooper and ran a hand over his hair, messing it up. She laughed as Jesse groaned and tried to fix his hair.

"Did you two hear the news?" Rex asked.

Brit and Kix looked at each other before shaking their tired heads.

"We have been in the med tent all night. What's going on?" Answered Brit as she took a forkful of food.

"We won the campaign. The fighting is over on this planet." Cody spoke up.

"Mar'e!" At last! Kix cheered as he high fived Hardcase. The boys all cheered and Brit let out a long sigh of relief. She slumped back into her chair and smiled.

"Thank the Maker."

"Let's celebrate! It's been a week of hell. So let's do a bonfire tonight and just relax before we move on to the next fight." Declared Fives as he slammed a hand onto the table. Cody and Rex looked at each other before smiling at the troopers and medics.

Rex finally said "I think we earned it."

The table cheered and Brit and Kix smiled at each other. They were happy to have a night filled with drinking and relaxing and just some quiet. After a week of literal hell filled with blood and death, they needed a little happy to pull themselves back together. The gang finished eating their food, talking about the bonfire later that night. Cody and Rex were going to tell the Generals and Commander Ahsoka while Jesse and the rest of the boys told the others. Kix and Brit were going to clean up and take a well deserved nap so they could function better later in the day.

After they all were done eating Kix took Brit's hand and walked with her to their shared tent. They walked slowly among the other troopers, tanks and guns that lined their camp. Once they got to their tent near the medical tent, Kix held the flap open for Brit. He gave her ass a playful slap as she walked past him and he couldn't help but laugh at the dirty glare she shot over her shoulder.

Kix followed her inside and started to unclip his armour, taking off the top part so he was only in his Blacks. He watched as Brit pulled off her chest plate, and shoulder plates. She didnt wear a full Armor, but made sure her torso and arms where covered to protect her. He watched as she let her blonde hair out of it bun. The waves of gold framed her face and he smiled softly to himself. Brit looked up to see him staring at her and she raised an eyebrow at him with a small half smile.

"What are you looking at Kix?" She asked softly. He reached forward and brushed some hair off her face. She leaned into his touched and sighed.

"The most beautiful women I've ever seen." He whispered before leaning down to place a soft kiss on her lips. He felt her sigh against his lips and loop her arms around his neck. He placed his hands on her hips and kissed her a bit deeper. Brit smiled against his lips and pushed her hands against his shoulders.

"We can do this later tonight. I need sleep handsome." She giggled as she ran a hand through his hair. "I miss your patterns.... and your tattoo." She smirked at him. Kix groaned at the mention of his tattoo.

"Not my proudest moment... getting that tattoo." He said rubbing the back of his neck. Brit chuckled before laying down on their sleeping mat. She held the blanket up so he could crawl under with her.

"Maybe not but its one of the reasons I fell for you. I thought you looked very badass for a medic with a head tattoo." She smirked up at him. Kix chuckled and nuzzled his face into her neck, leaving soft little kisses. He sighed and pulled her closer, letting their bodies mold into one.

"Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum." I love you. Kix whispered to her before they both drifted off to sleep.

Sometime later that day, Brit and Kix woke up to see the sun had crossed the sky. It was evening by the time they woke up, and a few of the clones had already started getting a bonfire going, as well as moving logs and mats out to sit around the fire. Cody and Rex got food from the supply ship, and Fives, Echo and Hardcass hunted some of the local game to cook fresh meat. Brit decided against wearing her armour and wore a pair of tan pants and a black off the lose shoulder shirt to be comfortable on their night of freedom. Kix had just his Blacks on down to the waist, his white and blue armour still on his legs and hips. Kix had grabbed his guitar and followed Brit out to the bonfire. Soon most of the troopers of the 501st and 212th were around the huge fire, a smaller one going a few few away to cook the game. Brit and Kix sat next to Echo, Fives, Hardcase, Rex, Cody and Jesse. Anakin, Ahsoka and Obi-wan sat a few spaces away, talking to Tup and Dogma.

"This is nice. After that week of hell, we needed this." Jesse said leaning back on his elbows letting the fire warm his feet. He sat next to Kix, eating some of the food that was available to the group. He looked over at Kix and Brit and gave them a light smile. "We have all done what we could."

"Its been alot. So many Vods dying. But their deaths are not in vain. We won this fight." He added to Jesse's statement. The others around him nodded their heads in agreement. Kix sighed and leaned against Brit, pulling her close.

"We did all we could. We saved who we could. Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la." Not gone, merely marching far away. Kix said as he stared at the fire.

The group grow quite as they remember the fallen, a peaceful hush with the roar of the blazing fire in front of them. Brit laid her head on Kix shoulder, feelings his arm pull her in tighter. The air was filled with the smell of smoke and the flowers in the trees around them. She looked around at the men that have become her family over the years. Fives and Echo picking on each other, Jesse and Hardcase talking about the latest blasters, Tup annoying Dogma, Anakin picking on Ahsoka and Obi-wan shaking his head trying not to laugh. These people have become her home, her life, her family.

Kix moved to grab his guitar, pulling it onto his lap. He leaned over and kissed Brit's cheek before he started strumming some cords. The clones around him, and the Jedi all turned to listen to him play the guitar, their eyes never leaving him.

"When we were young we were the ones

The kings and queens oh yeah, we ruled the world

We smoked cigarettes man no regrets

Wish I could relive every single word." His voice was soft and clear, reaching the ears of those sitting around the huge fire.

"We've taken different paths

And travelled different roads

I know we'll always end up on the same one when we're old

And when you're in the trenches

And you're under fire I will cover you." He glanced around at his brothers, meeting their eyes as he sang. He knew they knew this song was about them, about the fallen soldiers they did everything to save. He sang for the bond that couldn't be broken between them.

"I've got you brother-er-er-er

I've got you brother-er-er-er

I've got you brother-er-er-er."

Brit watched as her lover sang. His voice clear and pure as he poured his heart into the lyrics, his soul bared for them all to see.

"Oh brother, we'll go deeper than the ink

Beneath the skin of our tattoos

Though we do share the same blood

You're my brother and I love you that's the truth".

Fives sat up straighter as he listened to the music, his eyes never leaving his Vod. Jesse leaned against Hardcase who was sitting next to him. Echo had his arm resting on Fives' shoulder.

"We're living different lives

Heaven only knows

If we'll make it back With all our fingers and our toes

5 years, 20 years, come back

It will always be the same".

The emotion was raw in Kix's voice as he kept going, the lyrics pouring off his lips.

"If I was dying on my knees

You would be the one to rescue me

And if you were drowned at sea

I would give you my lungs so you could breathe

I've got you brother-er-er-er

I've got you brother-er-er-er"

Then Cody and Brit joined in, matching their tones to Kix's, singing along matching harmonies with him.

"And if we hit on troubled waters

I'd be the one to keep you warm and safe

And we'll be carrying each other

Until we say goodbye on our dying day

Because I've got you brother-er-er-er

I've got you brother-er-er-er

If I was dying on my knees

You would be the one to rescue me

And if you were drowned at sea

I would give you my lungs so you could breathe"

Their voices were clear and bright, blending together perfectly. They sang with their hearts, pouring their love for their family onto the song. Then it dropped back down to Kix, as he finished the song.

"Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh

Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh

I've got you brother-er-er-er

I've got you brother-er-er-er."

He strummed the last cord of the song, his heart filled with emotions. He glanced around at his Vods and his girlfriend, their eyes glassy with tears threatening to spill. They all began clapping, his brothers slapping his back and knees. The Generals and Commander Tano smiling at the group of clones around them. They knew what family meant to their men, how tight knit they are.

Kix felt Brit lean against him and he pulled her close, nuzzling his nose into her warm soft hair. He sighed deeply and closed his eyes as he let a tear slip down his face into her hair. He kissed her head and then looked around at his men. He would do anything to keep his brothers alive. For them to make it to the end of the war. For them to have a chance to live a life outside of the horror that followed them day and night.

"How about a game of Sabacc!?" Fives called out as he pulled out a deck of cards.

"Make it more interesting. Drinking Sabacc!" Hardcase grinned. He loved drinking games that laid to his brothers acting like idiots. Rex shock his head and Cody laughed. Soon bottles of liquor were being passed around as the game began. Shot being thrown back as losers had to take drinks. Kix and Birt watched Fives get his ass handed to him as they played, the couple choosing to watch instead of play. As the night went on and more and more soldiers got drunk, smiling and laughing for the first time in weeks. Kix placed his hand on Brit's thigh, giving it a squeeze. He saw her glance up at him through her eyelashes and he smiled softly before his lips found her neck behind her ear.

"Why dont we go back to our tent?" He whispered in her ear as he squeezed her thigh again. He felt her shiver against him, her head nodding yes. He smiled and grabbed her hand, pulling her along. A few of the men whistled at them as they walked away from the group, but they paid them no mind. They hadn't had a moment, a real moment of intimacy in weeks. All's he wanted was to feel close to his love again. He pulled her along back to their shared tent. He pushed open the flap of the tent and let her walk past before pulling the flap shut, trying it on the inside so no one could open it from the outside.

Her turned and looked at Brit, her cheek flushed, her breathing a bit faster them normal. He stepped closer to her and ran his thumb over her lips.

"You are so beautiful." He whispered as he grabbed her belt lop, tagging her body sharply till it was flush with his. He grinned down at her as a small gasp left her lips. He crashed his lips to hers, nipping at her bottom lip. Soon their tongues were fighting for dominance, hands roaming each others bodies. He grabbed the hem of her shirt and tugged it up and over her head, their lips breaking apart of a split second before connecting again. His hands ran over the smooth skin of her back and sides, pulling her as close to his body as he could. He felt her hands start to pull at the straps of his armour around his hips and thighs and he pulled away to quickly aid in the removal of the heavy armour as it clattered to the ground. He smiled as she tugged at the zipper of his blacks, pulling it down till his chest was exposed. Brit pushed the skin tight material off his shoulders revealing his chiseled tanned chest and torso.

"I could see you a Thousand times without clothes and ever time you'll take my breath away." She whispered to him. Kix smiled and pulled her close once more, placing a soft and warm kiss on her lips.

"I want to make soft, sweet love to you. I want to savor the feel of your body and touch." He growled into her ear as he kissed down her jaw to her neck. He felt her shiver and sigh as his hands made their way down to her hips, pulling the belt around her pants free. He popped open the button and let her pants fall to the floor around her ankles. Brit shivered in the cooler night air that danced around her. Kid's hot breath fanned over her smooth skin at her collarbone and she let out a soft moan. He smiled against her skin before nipping at the soft columnof her neck, leaving a mark on her collarbone, marking what was his. His hands squeezed her hips, rubbing soft circles with his thumbs.

Brit tugged at the pants of his Blacks, trying to push them down his hips. She felt his cock spring free, standing solid like a rod of beskar. She ran her fingers up and down the shaft, feeling his body tremble under her touch. His fingers slipped under the band of her panties, running through her slick folds.

"Maker, Kix.... I need you." She panted as his tongue and teeth danced over the skin of her neck. She pushed is blacks all the way down his legs, his hands pulling her chest wrap off, he panties soon following. He pushed her down onto their sleep mat and crawled on top of her. His eyes were soft yet hungry, and it made her body shiver. Kix smirked up at her before slowing kissing down her body, to the soft curves of her breast. Taking a tight pink bud into his lips he sucked and swirled her nipple around. Her soft moans filled the air around them. Soon his hand joined, taking the other rounded bud, pinching and rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger. He felt her nails rake through his hair, tugging it lightly.

"By Force!" Brit moaned as she arched her back. A light sheen of sweat clinged to her skin. Kix smiled against her skin, his lips slowly moving south leaving open mouthed kissed down the valley of her breast to her stomach. His tongue danced across her skin. He used his hands to push her hips down, holding her still as his hot breath fanned over her throbbing core.

His tongue darted out, licking a strip up her dripped core. Brit jumped, arched her hips into his face, trying to find the friction she was desperately craving.

"Marker. Plus don't tease me!" She cried out. Kix chuckled against her throbbing clit, sending a shiver through her body before his lips latched onto her, his tongue swirling and sucking making her head spin. He slipped a finger her her soaking wet pussy, moaning at the feeling of her tight walls pulling at him.

"Fuck you are so tight." He growled as he added another finger, pumping them in and out of her at a pounding pace. He went back to work with his tongue and lips on her clit, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. She tugged and pulled at his hair, bucking her hips against his face. He felt her body tremble, her legs tightened around his head. He back arched as a straggled cry left her lips as her high ripped through her body. Kix kept pumping his fingers and sucking on her clit, letting her ride out her blissful high. Once she started calming down he lapped up her juices, licking her clean before slowly crawling up her body. He kissed her lips, letting her taste herself on his lips. She moaned as he panted into the kiss, wrapping her legs around his hips.

"I want you." She panted as she pulled his body closer. He smirked and with a snap of his hips, drove himself deep into her still throbbing pussy. Her cry of pleasure filled his ears as he stalled for a second to let her adjust to his size. Once she nodded her head he began slowly thrusting into her, pulling almost all the way out before thrusting back in, bottoming out each time. Their bodies danced in a rythm of pushing and pulling, the sound of skin on skin and panting filled the tent. The air around them was hot and heavy, their bodies covered in sweat.

"I'm close darling. Come for me. Come on darling." He growled in her ear snapping his hips harshly against hers, trying to hold off till she stared chasing her high.

"Maker you are so wet and tight. So tight for me. So perfect." He praised her as he snapped his hips into her fast. Brit wrapped her legs around him tighter, her nails running down his back leaving long dark red lines in their wake. He growled as her nails dug into his skin as her high began to build.

"Let go baby." He moaned as his thrusts began to get harsher and faster. His words where all she needed for her high to crash over her body like the waves of Kamino. Kix captured her lips with his, her screams of pleasure melting into the kiss. The feeling of her walls tight and hot around his throbbing cock undid him as he spilled his seed deep into her pussy. Their bodies continued to rock together as they rode their highs together, pulling at each others to milk their highs as long as they could. Their breathing was fast and ridged as their broke their kiss, their highs starting to slowing slip away. Kix slipped out of her cunt, their cum mixing together as it spilled from her. He laid beside her, pulling her body to him as he nuzzled his nose into the skin of her neck.

"I'm so thankful for you. I dont think I could have gotten this far in the war without you Brit." He whispered into her ear as he ran his hand up and down her side. She turned her head to look at him, her eyes shining with love and desire.

"You will always have me beside you. Now and forever My Love." She said to him as she placed her hand on his cheek. He smiled before kissing her lips softly. He pulled her close till their bodies molded together as one, holding each other, drawing out the world outside and the horrors of the war. Right here, right now it was just them, together as close as two people could be. Right now it was just love that filled the air inside of the sounds of war.

#clone medic kix #clone trooper kix #tcw kix #kix #the clone wars fic #the clone wars #the clone wars fanfiction #the clone army #star wars imagine #star wars oc #star wars smut #star wars fanfiction #star wars #arc trooper fives #arc trooper echo #captain rex #commander cody #clone trooper jesse #clone trooper hardcase

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batshieroglyphics · 1 year

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[FIC] To Be Free Once More (That's Worth Fighting For) ~ Star Wars: Prequels ~ Fox/Obi-Wan ~ Mature ~ Ch 12/15

Title: To Be Free Once More (That's Worth Fighting For) Fandom: Star Wars Prequel Era Author: Batsutousai Rating: Mature Warnings: Alternate Universe, Qui-Gon survives, Jedi Shadow!Obi-Wan, Jedi culture positive, Coruscant Guard deserve better, clone trooper dehumanisation, institutional abuse, discrimination, learning to trust, Jedi and clone trooper relationships, strangers to friends to lovers, idiots in love, trans/nonbinary/agender clone troopers, trans/nonbinary/agender Jedi, character deaths (Palpatine, some Corries, offscreen Jedi OCs; more detail in notes of relevant chapters) Summary: As a Jedi Shadow, Obi-Wan hadn't expected to have much to do with the clone troopers. Until, suddenly, he does.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Stone's eyes shot over to him, and Obi-Wan could see him casting an assessing look, cataloguing the Force alone knew what little tells about Obi-Wan's appearance, and then tapped in dadita, 'Surgery?'

"Yes," Obi-Wan agreed quietly, swallowed, and explained, "Your chip was activated."

Stone stared at him for a moment, clearly confused, before he tapped, 'How? Why?'

Obi-Wan took a careful breath, still didn't know the best way to break this gently, even with almost two hours to try and sort it out. "You comm'd the chancellor," he explained, "we assume to let him know that the mission was a success. Palpatine...is the Sith."

Disbelief flared in the Force first, followed quickly by a sort of grim recognition tinged with horror, like he was making the same leaps of logic that Obi-Wan and Fox had done, all those months ago.

Stone swallowed, and rasped, "Dooku?"

"Alive," Obi-Wan replied. "We don't...wholly know what order you were given, but–" He cleared his throat, hesitated for a moment, then made himself say, "There's two likely orders on the chips: One is to kill any witnesses, the other is for an entire squad to suicide."

Stone's dawning horror filled the room, nearly choking Obi-Wan, and he had to bring his shields up higher than he'd had to do in a while, away from a battlefield. 'Who?' Stone tapped. 'Who dead? Who killed?'

"B.J., Mack, Klinger, Spearchucker, Rizzo, Senator Kharrus, and Representative Binks," Obi-Wan listed quietly.

Stone went stiff, staring at Obi-Wan with a blankness that freaked him out a little.

And then, all at once, he lurched upwards, too fast for Obi-Wan to stop him, and stumbled out of the bed.

He didn't make it far before he stumbled, and probably would have fallen and knocked his head against the floor plating and done himself some serious harm, but Obi-Wan caught him with the Force, kneeling next to him as he eased the commander to the floor.

"Stone–"

"I killed vode," Stone rasped, something hollow about his voice.

"No," Obi-Wan denied. "Palpatine killed them. He turned you into a weapon to do his dirty work. Just like he's been doing to Fox and Thorn. You are not at fault."

Stone's laugh was a wretched, ruined thing, and Obi-Wan suspected that could only partially be attributed to the damage to his throat.

Read it on Archive of Our Own!

Support Stone by reblogging this post

#foxwan #foxywan #pairing:Fox x Obi-Wan Kenobi #fandom:star wars #fic:To Be Free Once More (That's Worth Fighting For)

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jedi-hawkins · 3 months

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Bryn-Ayla Del Caro

Meet My Jedi OC! This is a living post with some info about her and her life! Feel free to send me an ask if you want to draw her or find out more about her character! More info and fun facts about her below the cut!

Pronouns: she/her

afab!

Born 56 BBY | Age 35 at the start of the war

Species: Human

Home planet: Takodana

Her family descended from a branch of House Vizla, but her ancestors left Mandalore at the end of the Mandalorian-Jedi war (738 BBY) and relocated to Takodana.

Headcannons:

OC Sunday: Shoes, Setting, First Impressions

OC Sunday: Voice, Home Planet, Weapon of Choice

OC Sunday: Favorite Book, My Favorite Trait, Weakness

OC Sunday: Most important thing, Hobbies, Starbucks

OC Sunday: Core Wound, Party Plans, Color Palette

OC Sunday: TV show, Plant, Body Type

OC Sunday: Song, Changes, Wardrobe

Shipping Questions: Bryn x Sergeant Hunter

Shipping Questions: Bryn x Obi-wan Kenobi

Physical description:

Height: 5'8"

Tanned skin

Dark brown hair, worn in a braid that falls to her waist

Dark brown eyes; sometimes they're black as night to the point you can't differentiate her pupils from her irises, other times they're warmer, with flecks of honey amber that shine in the sunlight.

Fit, muscular figure that can carry more weight than it appears to be able to handle.

Jedi Facts:

She was gathered by the Jedi Order when she was 4.

She and Obi-wan Kenobi were trained together at the Temple on Coruscant.

Became a padawan to Jedi Master Plo Koon at age 13.

Was also mentored by Qui-gon Jinn, and assisted him and his padawan, Obi-wan Kenobi on many missions.

She was present when Qui-Gon and Obi-wan rescued Queen Amidala from Naboo and found Anakin Skywalker.

Became a Knight at age 24.

Became a Master at age 31.

Gains a seat on the Jedi High Council at age 34 at the same time as Obi-wan Kenobi.

Her tunics are usually the basic tan, but her tabard is a dark maroon, and her cloak is a dark brown.

She was primarily a Form IV user (very Force-demanding and acrobatic), but after she built her second lightsaber, she became very skilled in Form V (switches quickly between offense/defense and incorporates dual-bladed combat).

After the construction of her second blade, she will switch between holding them in a traditional and reverse grip.

She had a padawan, a Twi'lek names Silais. He began training with Bryn when he was 13, was a very skilled prodigy and passed his trials and became a knight when he was 20.

She mentored Anakin in the same way that Qui-gon mentored her, and accompanied him, Obi-wan, and Ashoka on missions when needed.

She is close friends with Padme Amidala and serves as an unofficial liaison between the Jedi Council and the Galactic Senate.

Lightsabers:

She built her first Lightsaber when she was 12, and the crystal that chose her emitted a blue blade.

Her second saber, she built when she was 22 and emits a green blade.

Clone Wars Armor:

Rather than use standard-issue Jedi Armor made for the Clone wars, Bryn actually uses pieces from a set of beskar armor that was passed through her family from the old days of Mandalore. Originally, it was plain metal with no designs, but for the Clone War, she paints it Maroon like her troopers. After the battle of Jabiim, her Senior Commander Steeler paints a set of jiag eyes on her chest plate.

She wears a headset similar to real-world bone-conducting headphones to tap into clone comm channels hands-free rather than use a comlink.

Fun Facts:

She's fluent in Mando'a

She can communicate in some droidspeak, as well as some Huttese and Twi'leki, but does need communicators for complex conversation.

She identifies as polysexual; she is attracted to multiple genders, but is only attracted to humanoid species (though if there is a connection, she won't say no)

She has had a few intimate interactions and relationships, but she holds her duty as a Jedi above all else. She has no clouded judgement or shift in priorities from her affections.

Primarily, she and Obi-wan held an on-off relationship throughout their lives, but it was fully understood duty came first. When Cody comes along, Bryn is completely understanding and even encourages the relationship between Obi-wan and Cody and they become a throuple. Later on, after Bryn chooses to become the commander of Clone Force 99, Hunter eventually joins the polycule (no clonecest). Same as Bryn did for them, both Obi-wan and Cody encouraged her bond with Hunter.

At the start of the Clone War, she was assigned the 43rd Attack Legion, designation, Khaos.

A lot of the 43rd Legion's command structure/call signs/command officer names were heavily influenced by Grecoian (Greek) Mythology, because she gifted the command batch a book of myths.

Her call sign with the 43rd Legion was 'Nyx'

Her father had started training her in with bladed weapons when she was 3 and gave her a Mandalorian dagger when she was collected by the Jedi Order.

For a Jedi, she is skilled with 'civvy weapons,' especially daggers/vibroblades and rifles. She trained with them periodically for undercover assignments, and trained with them more vigorously at the start of the Clone War.

She drinks caf (like any other self-respecting overworked individual), but Obi-wan got her hooked on having a cup of tea in the afternoon (damn you Scottish man).

She survives Order 66 thanks to the Bad Batch.

After Order 66, she scrubs the maroon paint off her beskar armor and paints a new set of jiag eyes on her helmet with forest green paint. She then keeps her helmet on at all times and poses as a Child of the Watch, fighting with DC-17 blasters and vibroblades.

She has PTSD in relation to sleep and will often slip into patterns of insomnia or have night terrors.

She's a trained Medic.

When she was in the Jedi Academy, she knew Pong Krell and threw a pastry at him (nailing him in the face) after he said something bigoted in the Temple dining hall. They never really got along.

#star wars #the bad batch #tbb #the clone wars #star wars the clone wars #star wars clone wars #star wars prequels #star wars: the clone wars #star wars oc #jedi oc #jedi #oc character #my ocs #swtcw #sw tcw

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ailani-reillata · 7 months

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🍛 CURRY AND RICE — what does your oc's typical dinner look like? do they usually eat dinner?

🖤 BLACK HEART — has your oc killed or seriously wounded anyone before?

(ask game)

🍛 CURRY AND RICE — what does your oc's typical dinner look like? do they usually eat dinner?

This really depends on the time period of Ailani’s life. She’s not huge on eating at scheduled meal times, but she is often forced into routine.

When she’s a Jedi, Ailani eats whatever is being served in the dining hall. She usually eats in her room, but sometimes she manages meals in the main hall.

When she’s a handmaiden, meals are ordered up to the royal suites and she eats with the rest of the staff. Though sometimes they have fancy dinner parties. Which Ailani secretly loves.

When she’s in the Mandalorian clan, meals are usually rations, or things they’ve hunted and forged themselves.

Rebellion era Ailani is not allowed to skip meals because her boyfriend is always on her case. Meals are mostly rations, but she prefers to eat off of Wolffe’s plate, even if they have the exact same things.

🖤BLACK HEART — has your oc killed or seriously wounded anyone before?

Yes.

Durning the beginning of the Clone War, Ailani only kills battle droids, but as the fights worsen, morals get blurrier and blurrier on the battlefield. And she has to make hard choices.

Some losses are direct, and some kills are indirect.

Ailani considers her first kill a Clone Trooper on Khorm. But of course, that’s spoilers for another time.

By the time she joins the Rebellion, Ailani can’t remember a time before she was stained with red.

#ailani réillata #psyche #lore #thank you Cyndi for asking !#ily #asks

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book-of-baba-fett · 1 year

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Before Dawn on Life Day

An Illicit Affairs Extra

Captain Rex x OC (Talia Riva)

Description: Years after the war is over, Rex and Talia take a few moments to themselves on Life Day. A/N: Related to my fic Illicit Affairs, but this is NOT canon. In any shape way or form (sorry lol). This is pure gingerbread cookie fluff. Idk much about Life Day so this is basically Christmas in all but name. Wishing everyone a Happy Holidays 💙🥰.

Warnings: Fluff, for once no angst unless you think about how this isn't the life that canon Rex and Talia will have. References to kids, and pregnancy.

"I think that part goes over there-"

"I need to screw this in first."

"But that's supposed to overlap-"

"It's for younglings- why is this so kriffing complicated."

"Shh; you'll wake them!"

'Twas the early hours before dawn would rise on Life Day morning; the kids had fought sleep for as long as they could before they fell asleep in different corners of Rex and Talia's living room. They had loaded up on as many sweets as their little stomachs could fit at the Amidala-Skywalker party that evening, so they had to play out their energy once they got home. Once they finally tuckered out, and had to be carried to their bed by their parents; Rex and Talia could finally get started on setting up the presents under the brightly lit Life Day Tree. Something usually easier, but this year involved the assembly of a playhouse that would move outside their house once the Naboo winter warmed.

Talia was wrapping up the last of the toys, decorating them with sparkly bows and long strings of ribbon, as Rex tried to read the convoluted instructions for the house. It would be worth it once he saw the little ones' faces, but right now he had to hold in the torrent of swears running through his head. Finally, he sighed and sat back, reaching for one of the cookies the kids had decorated themselves to leave out; he smiled a little thinking of how excited they would be to see only crums remaining on the plate, and and the empty glass of chocolate milk that Talia was drinking from. She was sitting crossed legged on the couch, one hand on her glass, the other resting on Rex's shoulder, massaging tiny circles with her thumb as he sat on the ground in front of her. Rex grabbed the hand with his own, tilting his head to the side so he could plant a kiss on her palm. They were exhausted from the night out and setting up for the morning, but this was a quiet moment alone that they got so often these days. Still, they wouldn't trade it for anything.

Before the chaos of the next day would begin, Rex decided to stand up and head over to the fireplace, it's flames starting to fade out, and reached behind the photo from their wedding day on the mantle, where he pulled out a small, neatly wrapped present. He slowly walked back over to the couch, sitting beside Talia and putting his arm behind her back as he handed the little gift. Rex smiled to himself as her eyes sparkled as much as the kids' probably would tomorrow. She reached for it then paused; holding up a finger to signal for Rex to wait a moment as she leaned over the edge of the couch, grabbing a package and placed it in Rex's lap.

"You know every year we say no gifts," Rex chuckled as he began to rip open his gift, a thin but wide package.

"What can I say, I like treating you," Talia smirked, elbowing Rex, still holding her parcel in her hand as she watched Rex open his present. He tore all the paper off, unveiling a glass frame, holding various medals and ribbons, all awarded to him during the war, surrounding a picture from Rex and Talia's first campaign victory together. The two of the were at the front of the photo, with Anakin, Ahsoka, and Storm all in front of the a squad of clone troopers. Rex couldn't help but smile at how small Ahsoka was in the photo, or how awkwardly posed the group was; the war photographers always seemed to catch them off guard. BUt he had never seen the photo before, so it was nice to see all the familiar faces in the background, like Fives and Echo still shiny.

"Your medals have been sitting in a box in our closet for too long, and I found that picture again recently," Talia explained. "I can't get over how young we all look."

"Don't need to rub it in," Rex sarcastically grumbled, rubbing his hand over his head, where some white hairs had started to mingle in with the blond,

"I've told you; I think it's sexy," Talia grinned and leaned in to peck his cheek, but Rex turned closer to kiss her lips. His hand reached around her back, holding her there for a moment before he leaned back.

"Thank you, cyare," Rex said, noting the slight tint of pink on her cheeks; after all these years he felt good that Talia would still get flustered by him. He tapped the present still in her hands. "Your turn now."

Talia peeled open the paper, revealing a small, velvet box. Her mouth already opening in a soft 'O'. She opened the box and gasped, eyes rounding as she saw the small, pale blue pearl earrings resting in the box.

"Padmé was telling me about these, how they're only found on Naboo," Rex explained as Talia held them closer to look at.

"Rex, they're gorgeous," she exhaled, then looked back at him, her eyes watering a little bit. "You didn't need to spend this much on me."

"I had a little extra saved up on the side," Rex waved off. Talia was already taking out her current pair, to put the new ones in, and Rex felt a warmth in his chest as she put them on, her smile wide and just a beautiful as the day he first met her. "Besides; I like treating you."

Talia shook her head, but couldn't hide her smile, she leaned in to peck Rex's lips. "Happy Life Day."

"Happy Life Day." Rex murmured before kissing her again. The fire was still crackling in front of them, and it wasn't quite too late. He pulled back from her lips, wanting to take a little bit more advantage of this time alone "How about I open up that bottle of whiskey Obi Wan got us?"

Talia toyed with her bottom lip, smiling as she answered, "I can't drink right now."

Rex scrunched his brow, searching his memory of the night and realizing not once had she had a glass of wine or champagne, when his eyes rounded and he couldn't fight the smile overtaking his face, "Really? Again?"

Talia laughed, now putting a hand on her belly. "Yes, again."

Rex placed his hand over hers, still too early to show anything but he couldn't hide his excitement to add one more to their family. Talia curled into his chest as Rex leaned back against the couch; in a few hours their little ones would wake up and fill the house with their laughter and the noise of all their new toys. But for now they could sit in the quiet of the night, grateful for all that they had.

Taglist: @djarrex @justanothersadperson93 @paige6768 @saltywintersoldat @clonecyaree @dinner-djarin @whore4rex @raven--queen @swlover2187 @collectoroffics @pinkiemme @twistedstitcher27 @frietiemeloen @a-c-lee @ashotofspotchka @galacticgraffiti @itsagrimm @rexandechosandwich @immortalhdx @lady--kenobi @stankferrik @aquaamethyst96 @mavendeb @alwayssnivellus @rain-on-kamino @nyravioppri @staryskyforever @amyroswell @Sailingthehighseas @lucyysthings @manqoz @ilikemymendarkandfictional @punkpirate82 @paperplanes221 @saturnsokas

#star wars #the clone wars #star wars fanfic #clone wars fanifc #captain rex x oc #rex and talia #ia fanifc #illicit affairs fanfic

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the-stage-manager · 1 year

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Hey, @paperback-rascal I've got an OC who I think would do really well in the 347th! Tell me what you think:

His name is Wyrm. He was formerly a sniper who served in a yet-unnamed squad in the 212th battalion. He's obsessed with mandalas, he destresses by filling pages and pages of scrap paper with intricate mandalas. He's got them tattooed all up his arms and legs, with smaller designs on his chin and forehead.

He's an excellent pickpocket and an even better hustler, and he likes to spend his leave cheating at sabaac or space-poker or space-darts, and stealing candy from shops. He spends all his money on art supplies, not only because he goes through a lot of materials when drawing, but has a tendency to give out art supplies to younger clones who are stressed or traumatized after missions. He doesn't have much of a sweet tooth, so the stolen candy is either given to other troopers who could use a pick-me-up, or traded for armor paint.

His armor is covered in mandalas, and the patterns are constantly changing. Again, painting them helps him destress, so he has no problem scrapping off or painting over older sections. While his armor is mostly 212th Gold, if he's working with another battalion, he'll trade his contraband candy for paint, so he ends up with a leg plate covered in 501st blue and a vembrance in 104th maroon.

The war is going great for him. He gets promoted, he works hard (he wants to be an ARC trooper someday—who doesn't?) And then everything falls apart. He's captured by the separatists and spends months in a POW camp in horrific conditions. He keeps waiting to be rescued, but nobody comes. By sheer luck, he manages to escape with a handful of other clones, and they contact the Republic. When they're picked up, Wyrm's primary concern is contacting his squad to let them know that he's alive—only to find out that his squad was completely wiped out during the battle and he, himself, was listed as KIA, which is why nobody looked for him.

He spends the next couple of months in rehabilitation—he's severely underweight and riddled with internal parasites—but he never gets cleared for duty because his eyesight has suddenly started to rapidly deteriorate, seemingly without cause, and his hands shake uncontrollably, again, seemingly without cause. Tests reveal that the deterioration of his vision is being caused by an auto-immune disease, but his shaking hands are completely psychosomatic. Unable to shoot and unable to draw, he withdraws.

When I originally created this character, his story ended tragically, either by suicide, or after attempting to assassinate General Kenobi in revenge. But I've changed my mind. That isn't what I want for him anymore.

I've been reading this book called The Body Keeps The Score, and it's been enlightening. One of my favorite passages reads as follows:

"[Describing a test where traumatized children were shown pictures of benign scenes, as asked to tell a story describing what was happening in the picture.] The responses of the clinic children were alarming. The most innocent images stirred up intense feelings of danger, aggression, sexual arousal, and terror. These images were not selected because they had some hidden meaning that sensitive people could uncover; they were ordinary images of everyday life. We could only conclude that for abused children, the whole world is filled with triggers. As long as they can imagine only disastrous outcomes to relatively benign situations, anybody walking into a room, any stranger, any image, on a screen or a billboard might be perceived as a harbinger of catastrophe. In this light the bizarre behavior of the kids at the children's clinic made perfect sense.

Real-world studies are gathering more and more evidence of a definitive link between trauma, PTSD, and auto-immune disorders. The book also discusses the impact of the pharmacological revolution of victims of trauma. New studies are finding that SSRIs and other antidepressants are very rarely effective on people suffering from PTSD, because the source of the problem isn't chemical in nature.

"To my amazement, staff discussions on the unit rarely mentioned the horrific real-life experiences of the children and the impact of those traumas on their feelings, thinking, and self-regulation. Instead, their medical records were filled with diagnostic labels: "conduct disorder" or "oppositional defiant disorder" for the angry and rebellious kids; or "bipolar disorder". ADHD was a "comorbid" diagnosis for almost all. Was the underlaying trauma being obscured by this blizzard of diagnoses?"*

"Trauma victims cannot recover until they become familiar with and befriend the sensations in their bodies. Being frightened means that you live in a body that is always on guard. Angry people live in angry bodies. The bodies of child-abuse victims are tense and defensive until they find a way to relax and feel safe. In order to change, people need to become aware of their sensations and the way that their bodies interact with the world around them. Physical self-awareness is the first step in releasing the tyranny of the past.

In my practice I begin the process by helping my patients to first notice and then describe the feelings in their bodies—not emotions such as anger or anxiety or fear but the physical sensations beneath the emotions: pressure, heat, muscular tension, tingling, caving in, feeling hollow, and so on. I also work on identifying the sensations associated with relaxation or pleasure. I help them become aware of their breath, their gestures and movements.

All too often, however, drugs such as Abilify, Zyprexa, and Seroquel, are prescribed instead of teaching people the skills to deal with such distressing physical reactions. Of course, medications only blunt sensations and do nothing to resolve them or transform them from toxic agents into allies.

The mind needs to be reeducated to feel physical sensations, and the body needs to be helped to tolerate and enjoy the comforts of touch. Individuals who lack emotional awareness are able, with practice, to connect their physical sensations to psychological events. Then they can slowly reconnect with themselves."

That is not, of course, to say that medications shouldn't be used at all; they can help lessen the intensity of emotions, making the process of healing less traumatic. After all, it's easier to learn to walk again, if the prosthetic isn't actively causing you pain. However, medication alone is not effective in treating trauma.

I think Wyrm would make an excellent member of the 347th, who specializes in advocating for and treating traumatized soldiers. He specializes in soldiers with anger-management problems, dissociation, self-mutilation. With some training, he could be an excellent mind healer, and he could be invaluable when it comes to treating patients who suffer from psychosomatic illnesses.

Consider this Wyrm's application to join your battalion. I just like the world you've created and I'd like to be a part of it.

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imperialofficersticky · 1 year

Photo

@wanderinginksplot ‘s OC Limit is an absolute delight

I got it in my head that the Kaminoans originally intended him to be a commando since he’s bigger and taller than other clone troopers but pulled him out as defective for further testing once they became aware of his stutter. the modified armor is honestly just a bit of durasteel welded onto the commando chest-plate to give it a more passing resemblance to CT armor since the RC armor would be quicker to adjust than completely resizing a CT set from scratch.

#I've been in a creative rut for a hot minute so it was nice to get back into the swing of things with a little doodling #this is actually one of the first things i've drawn in almost a year lol #myart #my art #clone oc #star wars oc #star wars #star wars clone wars #327th Star Corps #limit #he seems like a teddy bear

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clonemedickix · 11 months

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So this was a commission done for me by a fellow artist on Twitter (I added the words at the bottom when I made this my IPhone Lock Screen) She brought my OC Lara to life for me. Absolutely in love with this artwork. Can give her reference if anybody wants it.

OC General Lara Lin (Telperion Laurelin) and ARC Trooper Fives

Rating: Explicit/ Adult Content/ NSFW - over 18 only!

Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence,

Category: F/M

Fandoms: Star Wars: The Bad Batch (Cartoon)Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media TypesThe Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. TolkienGame of Thrones (TV)Star Wars - All Media Types

Relationship: CT-7567 | Rex/Original Female Character(s)

EXCERPT:

Fives and Echo were out in front of Rex and Anakin, leading the group with guns drawn. Fives was quick to notice the warrior was female; her armor was shaped to her body. She wore gleaming white enameled plate of some light metal, with pauldrons, and an ornate breastplate over a fine silver chain mail shirt that reached to her knees. Her biceps were covered by golden guards engraved in some runic language inscribed in silver. Her gauntlets were the same, with more runes detailing something they could not decider. Her breastplate was inlaid with fine jewels, the emblem of two graceful trees, one gold, one silver, with the face and head of a dragon above them, and three stars shining above all. She wore a pair of white breeches beneath the chain mail skirt, with brown patches at the inner thigh and just below the knees, and a pair of well worn brown knee high riding boots with small silver spurs. At her waist was a sword belt, holding the short sword and a stunning, ornate dagger. She had a shoulder scabbard for her great sword and over her left shoulder, a quiver of arrows, with a bow slung across her chest. The two clones stared in admiration of the beautiful armor and how the warrior was loaded for battle with weapons. Clearly she was deadly and prepared for just about anything thrown at her. Her face was half covered by a helmet that covered her temples and the sides of her face. Across her brow there were three white stones that shone like diamonds, glittering and sparkling in the light, but with a glow behind them that was ethereal, like star shine. There was a near opaque visor over her eyes, and they could make out the outline of them behind the glass. Her mouth was sensitive, with a slightly pouty lower lip that they could swear was ready for a laughing smile at any time. Neither clone needed to see anything more to know she was beautiful. Her head turned slightly to check the progress of her mount and a long, thick braid of brown hair shot through with gold and silver highlights fell over her shoulder. The highlights sparkled in the sun, much like the glitter of her armor, but it was the stones on her brow that really radiated power and light; Fives and Echo could not look directly at them without feeling blinded by their light.

The warrior was standing in a ready pose with her great sword in her right hand. As the group of clones and General Skywalker approached, she moved her weight back to her rear foot and drew her short sword in a reverse grip, raising her great sword over her head in a stance Anakin wasn’t familiar with. The clones all raised their blasters, and Captain Rex said in a flat tone, “I’d put away your swords if I were you.”

Without a sound, above them, the dragon lowered its massive head and gave a deep menacing growl towards the clones. They had forgotten it while studying the woman, and with Rex’s threat the beast decided to remind them of its looming presence. The men all looked up into teeth, and a glowing red furnace of a throat. The woman smirked a bit and said, without changing her pose “I think perhaps YOU would do better to lower your guns.”

Skywalker looked at Rex and nodded, saying “Go ahead. Lower your blasters.”

The clones holstered their guns and stepped back the smallest fraction, giving her room. The woman stood up, relaxing her posture. She put her short sword back in its sheath, then sheathed the great sword as well. She raised her visor on her helmet and Fives and Rex both gasped internally. Her eyes were gray blue, but shone with a light from within that radiated like star light. The color reminded them of the sea and sky of Kamino, and both were drawn into them like deep pools of sparkling water. Her beauty gave even General Skywalker pause, and he hesitated for a brief second before introducing himself. She beat him to the first word, resting her arms across her chest and asking “You’re their superior, I presume?”

“I’m General Anakin Skywalker of the Jedi Order and the Grand Army of the Republic. This is Captain Rex, my first in command. The man to your immediate left is Lieutenant Fives and to your right, Corporal Echo. We appreciate your help with this battle today, but I’m not sure we’ve ever heard of someone like you before….”

“Well, since we are going with impressive titles, I am Telperion Laurelin, Guardian of the Balance and Guide of Souls. I heard a cry for help in this galaxy, and I have answered the call. It’s what I do.” She gestured to the giant beast standing watchfully behind and above her. “This is Baiulus the Black Dread. He is my dragon, a friend of many ages and my greatest ally in any fight. He is rather protective of me, and not above eating those who threaten my person.” She said this with a small apologetic smile, but looked at the clones significantly in warning. “I’d hate for our first meeting to go south over a misunderstanding of intentions.” She opened her hands to show she meant no harm. “I’m here to help you in this fight. There is no need for the worry about me or B.”

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kkrazy256 · 2 years

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26 and REMEDY

Oh man, Cal. You asked for this (like three months ago akjhfwlk im sorry it’s late). Please heed the content warnings.

26- “I never wanted this. I never wanted any of this.” - Remedy

Remedy and Pharma, an AU (not the canon outpost route)

Characters: Clone Medic Remedy, Clone Medic Pharma, Arc Trooper Drift (@calamity-aims 's oc)

CW: Graphic character death (injury descriptions, decapitation, forcing someone to kill you, medical drug use)

There are two brothers lying on the ground.

One is on his stomach, limbs twitching while his cybernetic spine lies sprawled next to him on the blood-smeared floors. The other is a few paces away, on his side in a growing pool of red from both his chest and missing hand.

And somehow, both their conditions are Remedy’s fault.

Because Pharma wouldn’t have cared to hurt Drift if Remedy hadn’t been here.

Because Remedy had shot Pharma.

None of them say anything. He can hear Drift’s shallow breaths, Pharma’s labored ones, and his own shaky attempts to remind himself that he still lives.

There’s no time to dwell on that. He needs to move.

He pushes himself up on his elbows with a wince, looking around. The metal slab of a table he had been tied down to is littered with tools and medical equipment. There has to be something.

The throbbing spreads from his knee to his hip with each small jostle. Just like when he had first attached the prosthetic over a year ago, Pharma hadn’t been gentle in its removal. He pushes through the growing burn until he finds what he’s looking for. He reads the label, and the familiar chemicals spark recognition. Something that would numb the pain, but not his mind.

Remedy presses the hypo against his thigh and hits the plunger without a single tremor in his hands. The relief is immediate, and he pilfers around for enough scrap metal to make a splint. He’d never been too familiar with prosthetics, and the last thing he wants right now is to puncture something and bleed out. Then they would all be in trouble.

He ties the pieces together with some tubing, pulling it tight and taut. As long as he can get off the table, it would do.

The breath is completely knocked out of him when he crashes to the floor with a grunt. That had seemed a lot easier in his brain. The blaster clatters onto the ground next to him, and he doesn’t like the way he flinches away from it.

There are two brothers lying on the ground.

Both bleeding out.

Because of him.

He pulls himself up using the table edge, grabbing as many medical supplies as he can carry before hobbling over.

“Ohhh doctor doctorrr, I think I’m hurt.” The words cling to him as he staggers closer. Pharma’s laugh is wet and dying, his words like a funeral tune. Remedy bites his lip and keeps moving. Each step becomes heavier, like hands clamped around his ankles to leave bloody prints.

“Kih’vod.”

He does stop then.

It’s said so simply. Not a hint of taunting, even though it must’ve been like pulling teeth to say. The accent is slightly off. Because he’d never liked using their language. Never liked talking to them. To any of them.

If Remedy dwells on it, if he really listens. He might even say, might even hope that there is a hint of sincerity in that single word Pharma spits out like bone dust on his tongue.

He stands between Pharma and Drift now. A shitty makeshift medkit in his hands. His leg trembles and he can hear the thigh plate of his armor clatter.

Pharma coughs again, wet and dying. Drift lets out a barely audible whine, the torn attachments on his back give a dull spark.

Remedy stands between Pharma and Drift.

He thinks, maybe in another world, maybe in another timeline, hell maybe even just one year ago,

He would’ve chosen Pharma.

Maybe that one word, no matter the circumstance, would’ve convinced his stupid stupid brain to turn his body around and sit himself down next to his ori’vod. It would’ve convinced him to pull out the medical supplies and save Pharma’s life. While Drift would’ve laid a few meters away and watched. And died.

Remedy sits himself down next to his kih’vod. He sets the medkit on the floor.

He works on saving Drift’s life.

“...Rem?” Drift murmurs, his cheek is pressed against the floor. It doesn’t look like he can move at all.

“I’m here, kid.” He whispers softly, “I’m here. Does it hurt?”

“I can’t feel anything.” His voice is steady, but Remedy can hear the fear in each syllable.

“So much for saving everyone.” Pharma sneers from where he lies, eyes blown wide with pain and his blood-painted lips curl up at some hidden joke.

Remedy clenches his jaw, surveying the damage. The cybernetics had been forcibly ripped off, skin and flesh angrily torn with the sole intention to hurt. Exposed wires spark and cracked prosthetic bits form sharp edges. The smell of blood iron mix with the burnt metal to form something truly noxious. By all logic, Drift shouldn’t have been able to stand, much less have the strength to swing the blade down on Pharma’s other arm.

“He doesn’t look so good.” Pharma coos, “maybe I could’ve helped. You know I can fix that, easily.”

Remedy spots the hypo-syringe next to Drift’s hand. The glowing purple remnants on the needle tip make his stomach turn. He spares Tarn’s corpse a glance. Fucking Nuke.

The frustration rolls deep in his core, and he works on stemming the blood flow while thoughts fly through his mind rapidly.

There’s not much information in any database on the effects and components of General Tarn’s special concoction of system boosters. The only note on file has always been: For Research Purposes Only. Do Not Use.

Powerful, addictive, and capable of utterly terrible things.

Such as making the user forget pain ever existed as an option, giving them an escape into a supercharged reality where anything is possible.

Such as giving an already powerful Force user the ability to tear through an entire battalion by himself, leaving not a single survivor.

Such as giving a dying man without a spine the boost he needed to stand and fight.

“Works wonders, doesn’t it?” Pharma is lying on his back now, staring at the ceiling, “the things that brute was able to do with it in his system. The research and data I was able to compile about it…they’re probably in the database here, right in that terminal.” He smiles again, “password protected though.”

But the composition of the drug is intense, often too much for most biological organs. They had theorized the General’s numerous cybernetic modifications help offset the worse symptoms, concentrating the Nuke there as fuel rather than poison.

Perhaps the boosters went straight to knitting Drift’s cybernetics back together instead of exploding his organs. That would be the optimistic route. Remedy doesn’t see any signs of organ failure so he will take any hint of good news at this point.

He’s more worried about Drift’s heart. The adrenaline and power of the Nuke had kept him alive, but the strain of it all is taking its toll. He keeps one hand over Drift’s pulse, frowning at the way it keeps skipping, slowing, then speeding up all in the same thirty seconds. They’d have to keep an eye on that if—when they get home.

He does what he can. He stops the bleeding, tapes off exposed wires, and solders some of the cracked metal back together so they wouldn’t stab accidentally. He doesn’t dare try to mess with the detached spine itself. Home. They have to get back to the medbay for backup.

“Okay…” He swipes the back of his hand across his forehead, smearing the gore and sweat, “you’re going to be okay.”

“I’m sorry, Remedy. I,” Drift chokes on his words, “I didn’t want to take it. Fuck, it felt good and awful at the same time. I hate how it always feels good. I didn’t want—”

“It’s okay. You’re okay.” He cuts in, reaching out to press his palm into Drift’s slack hand, squeezing, “we can fix this when we get home. You didn’t fuck up, it’ll be okay.”

Drift’s fingers twitch, which is all he could manage. It’s more than enough for Remedy.

“I’m going to find a working communicator and contact the Guard. Just sit tight, kid.” He tells Drift, who snorts and mumbles something that sounds a lot like, “ain’t going anywhere.”

Then, he realizes it’s been quiet.

Remedy turns towards Pharma. His chest aches with how fast his heart beats.

But Pharma isn’t there, lying still and dead with eyes open and staring at the ceiling like he had expected.

He’s crawling away, leaving two wet trails of blood behind him. There is a single-minded determination in him, silent and completely focused on a single goal.

His remaining mechanical hand is outstretched, metal fingers mere centimeters away from the fallen blaster.

Remedy scrambles, dragging his injured leg in his frantic crawl to beat Pharma to it.

His hand wraps around the barrel just as Pharma tries to turn it towards himself.

They fight over it in silence save for muted grunts and growls. Neither of them wish to lose focus with words.

Pharma’s foot finds purchase and he slams it against the splint. Remedy feels the broken metal dig into his exposed knee and the spurt of slippery blood that follows. The cry that leaves his lips is wretched, and his leg slides against the blood. His glasses slip off and he hears them crack under their combined weight.

“Remedy?” Drift’s voice rings out, alarmed.

“Yeah, Remedy.” Pharma spits, yanking harder on the blaster, “save the day. You’re just so good at that, aren’t you?”

Remedy tightens his grip, angling it towards the ground. Pharma’s hurt much worse, he just needs to hold out longer.

It pays off. He can feel the tremor in Pharma’s hand, the rasping wetness in his heaving breaths, the blood dripping down his chin.

Remedy wrenches the blaster free, sliding it all the way across the room.

The howl Pharma lets out goes beyond angry. The blurry mess before him moves quickly, and only the roar of blades gives him enough warning to lift his hands, grabbing at the wrist. The transformed arm is so close to his face that he thinks it’s sheared some locks of hair. He can’t tell, he can’t see osik.

The desperate strength behind the chainsaw is immense. The blood beneath them soaks warm through the crevices of his armor. The blades press down heavily and Remedy’s arms shake to hold Pharma’s wrist at bay. The strength feels like a final stand.

“Why?!” Pharma screams, voicing cracking in ways that Remedy’s never heard from him before. He’s glad he can’t see his face. “Why can’t you just let me have even this? Why can’t you ever let me win?”

“Win?” He wishes his voice could be louder than a whisper to match Pharma’s cries. But everything just feels numb. He can barely hear the weapon’s scream.

“Win?” He repeats, the far-away feeling enveloping him. His grip tightens and he can hear the bones in Pharma’s wrist creak through the nothingness.

“You think that’s what it’s been about for me?” He says, voice growing in volume with each surreal word he utters.

“I don’t want to win, I never wanted this.” His vision blurs further with the help of the angry hot tears welling up. He looks around the room at each fuzzy outline of a person. At the dozens upon dozens of dead vode, collapsed like puppets with their strings cut. At General Tarn, who had been long dead before they had shown up. At Drift, who’s doing his best to keep all the pained whimpers in, and Remedy’s chest hurts, “I never wanted any of this.”

“The medical exam rankings on Kamino, the titles, the positions, you could’ve had it all, Pharma. I didn’t fucking care. I never did.”

He pushes back harder, leaning until he finds Pharma’s frenzied eyes.

They lock gazes.

“I just wanted an ori’vod.” The sentence breaks in his mouth like glass and he swallows every piece, feeling every cut deep within him.

The blades continue to whir but Pharma is silent.

Then he’s leaning his entire weight forward, pushing the blades closer. He’s near enough for Remedy to see his face from behind the weapon.

He’s smiling, but different from before. The cruel lines run deep like grooves carved into rocks from the years of hate washing over them. That is something that will never smooth over. Yet right now, this is the closest he’s looked to serene.

And Remedy thinks there has to still be a chance. There has to be a single ray of sunlight behind that never-ending eroding storm.

There has to be a way for him to still choose Pharma.

“You will always be the one I hate most, little brother,” Pharma says warmly.

Then, Pharma lets go.

The pressure on the chainsaw disappears completely.

The momentum of Remedy’s continuous push against the arm suddenly meets no opposition and the blades swing up and back towards Pharma.

It clicks with resistance for only a second before tearing through flesh muscle and bone like flimsi.

The spray of blood hits Remedy’s face and he doesn’t close his eyes in time. It burns something terrible and all he can see is a blurry world tinted red when he opens them again.

The wrist still in his death grip goes slack with the entire weight of the body

Something falls onto his lap with a heavy thud.

It bleeds through the crevices of his armor and he can feel it in his bones.

His hand twitches once and there’s a click. A metal latch opens up on the mechanical wrist and a commlink falls out into the pool of red.

He lets go of the arm.

He doesn’t look down at his lap.

Blood drips off his nose, his chin, off every strand of his clumping hair.

Plop plop plop

He reaches for the commlink, feeling around the warm liquid to find it.

His fingers graze against a hypo-syringe and he sees the purple glow emanating from the barrel.

For Research Purposes Only. Do Not Use.

Powerful, addictive, and capable of utterly terrible things.

Such as making an unstoppable Force user even more sadistic and horrible.

Such as saving the life of a vod, even though it will throw him back into the nightmare he has wanted to escape for so long.

Such as making the user forget pain ever existed as an option. Making nothing matter at all. Because the burn of the chemicals will replace any and every emotion, even if just for an hour.

Just for an hour. Not even an hour. He just needs a minute—

“Remedy?”

Drift’s voice makes him gasp and he inhales sharply.

The syringe is in his hand, hovering over the crook of his arm. His fingers are over the plunger.

“I can’t see you…could you,” He hears Drift swallow roughly, “could you come and sit by me?”

Remedy doesn’t move his body or his hand. The weight on his lap is heavy, and he doesn’t think he can move to let it fall.

Plop plop plop

“No.”

His fingers twitch.

No, you can’t see me like thi—

“—please don’t leave me here all alone, Rem.” Drift’s voice is small, “please.”

I just wanted an ori’vod.

The syringe falls back into the blood with a splash, and Remedy presses his bloody hands against his bloody eyes with a sob.

“I won’t, kih’vod. I’m sorry.” He grits his teeth until his trembling jaw hurts, “I’m so sorry.”

“...I know. I know, ori’vod. I’m sorry too.”

Remedy pulls his hands away, feeling the mix of blood and salt stain his face. He doesn’t think any amount of washing will make him feel clean again.

He fishes the commlink out of the blood, inputting the frequency he knows by heart. He doesn’t trust his voice enough to speak so he types the details and sends them to Fox. He drops the device back into the puddle after seeing a confirmation. He doesn’t read another word from the reply.

“Drift?” He listens to the way his voice echoes hollowly through the room. The enveloping numbness from before hadn’t left.

“...hmm?” Drift answers, sounding equally exhausted.

Remedy reaches down, hesitating before letting his hand rest of the weight on his lap. He runs his fingers through the strands of red and white hair, blinking the blood from his eyes.

Plop plop plop.

Goodbye, Pharma.

He pushes the head off his legs.

“We’re going home, kid.”

Good fucking christ.

#clone medic remedy #clone medic pharma #arc trooper drift #sw mine #tcw #star wars

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ceapa-mica · 1 year

Text

The Choices We Make | Chapter 5: Stealth

{cross-posted on ao3} {masterlist}

<- previous chapter next chapter ->

Pairing: Imperial!Crosshair x Tholothian!OC

Warnings: angst

Word count: 2767

Summary: Zareena has a plan to search for information regarding Lyle's wherabouts.

a/n: Welcome back!

Sorry I didn't post this chapter sooner, but after that season finale I was too depressed to write for almost a week. I love writing a grumpy character falling in love, and I hope you have just as much fun reading this chapter as I had writing it, dear reader. Enjoy!

"What is this? Misfit central?"

That was the first of many comments Zaree paid no mind to as she approached the table Crosshair sat at with a sad expression on her face. She had looked sad last night, but now even more so, and Crosshair had a feeling something had happened. She didn't look like she fully acknowledged his presence as she sat down and shoved the mushy food over her plate with her spoon. That ray of sunshine of a woman was gone and that concerned Crosshair.

"You're bringing the mood down here." he said, keeping a neutral expression, staring at her while slowly eating the goo that was supposed to be breakfast. "Did one of those regs upset you again?" he asked with a lot of suppressed anger, eying the table the group of clones that were bothering them were sitting at.

"If that was only the case." she huffed. "My foreman paid me a visit this morning. He said someone new will take Lyle's position. They really want to replace him, I- I don't want to work with someone new. How can they do that?!" she hit her fist on the table, accidentally spilling her caf. "Shit…" With one hand she tried to dry the puddle of caf, the other wiped away the tears forming in her eyes.

Crosshair had never seen Zaree like this. At that moment he decided he hated seeing her so unhappy. Sure, her usually positive nature annoyed him at times, but seeing such a warm person so broken made him feel things, which, of course, he wouldn't show.

"The work needs to be done, and since your friend is gone…" he tried his best to find words of comfort, but comforting someone was really not one of his strengths.

"I know you're right… I just wish Lyle would be here. I'm sure you two would get along well. I made a new plan by the way."

Crosshair sighed exasperatedly. "What now?"

Zaree looked around and whispered "Come to the maintenance room at noon, that's when my shift ends. I can't tell you here."

He rubbed the bridge of his nose at the thought of another one of her "excellent" plans. "Fine, but don't waste my time."

The corners of Zaree's mouth twitched in an almost-smile and she stood up and left, her breakfast left halfway uneaten. Usually she was a good eater, but today she simply wasn't that cheerful Tholothian woman Crosshair had met. The cheeky glint in her eyes was gone, replaced by a weariness he hadn't seen before. After finishing his breakfast, Crosshair took a detour to the kitchen where he secretly stole some of the better rations for her to eat later. From what Zaree had told him about Lyle, he had always looked out and been there for her. Crosshair felt like this duty was now his for the time being… until Lyle returned, so he hoped. He wanted to help find her friend to see her happy again, he really did.

As Crosshair showed up at the maintenance room at noon he was surprised to find a stranger spinning on the chair - a young human man with tousled brown hair and dark shadows under his eyes who was listening to the newest jizz tunes on his headphones.

"Who are you?" Crosshair asked with obvious distrust in his voice.

"I could ask you the same question. What's a trooper doing down here?"

"I'm looking for Zareena."

"Aw the little lady got caught up repairing the valves on boiler S43. Had to postpone her lunch break."

As a sniper Crosshair had learned to be patient and leaned against the doorframe, waiting for fifteen minutes. He had to show up for yet another medical exam right after lunch break so he couldn't stay.

"Tell Zareena I was here."

"Sure thing, clone!"

Crosshair rolled his eyes at the way the young man talked. He didn't like him, especially not that he smelled like deathsticks. He took the rations he had stolen from the kitchen with him since he had a feeling that the boy would eat them himself instead of giving them to Zaree.

When Zaree didn't show up for dinner either, Crosshair became worried. Worry and uncertainty were feelings he hated more than anything and didn't exactly improve his mood. With a scowl on his face he went to bed that night, but couldn't fall asleep. Too many thoughts occupied his mind. He wondered what the Batch were up to. Why wasn't Zaree at dinner? What would his next mission be? Those were the questions that wouldn't let him catch any sleep. Around midnight, when he was about to doze off, there was a knock on the door of his quarters. He sat straight up, wondering who it could be. A new mission?

"Come in!" Crosshair looked in surprise as Zaree came into his quarters. "You have no authorization to be on that level. Please tell me you didn't steal another access card."

"Good evening to you too. And no, this time I came through the ventilation shafts. A great way to go places in this building that are protected by doors you need those cards for."

"How the fuck do you even know which room is mine? I never told you."

She grinned, the mirthful spark in her eyes had returned. "Lyle taught me some basic slicing. That's how I learned your CT number and then looked up your room. Easy."

How she stood in his room in a confident stance, hands on her hips made his mouth go dry. "You came here for a reason. What did you want to tell me?"

Zaree sighed and sat down cross-legged at the end of his bed. "First of all, I'm sorry I didn't show up during mealtimes when I said I would. I had to show that newbie around and explain everything three times because his only interest seems to be his kriffing music box. He works so sloppy and slow… I just hope that's only temporary but…probably not."

Crosshair cocked his head listening to her vent. "Some people just can't get the job done. That's what it feels like working with regs."

"Oh come on, not all regs are like this!"

He rolled his eyes in frustration at the mere thought of how the regs had treated him and his brothers when they were young and still as grown ups. "Now to the reason you visit me in the middle of the night. Y'know what this could look like to someone else. Young lady, visiting me at night…"

Zaree searched for the right words. "I- um oh I'm not here to- I don't want you to think…" Crosshair enjoyed watching her stammer, a smirk forming in the corner of his mouth. "I told you at breakfast that I have a new plan." She was suddenly interrupted by the growling of her stomach which was loud enough for Crosshair at the other end of his bed to hear. He grabbed the flimsi bag with the rations he had stolen from the kitchen and threw it on the bed in front of her.

"Wanted to give this to you since lunchtime. Didn't trust your new coworker enough to leave it there for you."

"Aww that's so thoughtful! Thank you!" Her wide smile made him feel things he tried hard to suppress. As he watched her bite a chunk off the first ration bar, he wondered how her lips would feel on his - a thought that scared him so much he blinked to focus back on what she was saying with her mouth full.

"This facility has a prison. The thing is, Lyle never taught me how to slice into the registry. I need access to the data terminals for that."

"Those are…well protected. They scan your face for verification and alert the security if you don't have the necessary rank."

Zaree nodded. "I know that much. I can overwrite this standard protocol, which includes the face scanning. I need someone to keep watch while I'm doing this and you're my only friend right now…"

Crosshair sighed in exasperation. "Those reckless plans of yours will one day cost you your life. When do you plan on doing this?"

"Tonight."

He blinked once in disbelief. "Pulling a stunt like this takes days if not weeks to plan."

"Days or weeks are something Lyle doesn't have! We need to find him as soon as possible."

She took a small holoprojector from her bag. A map appeared as she switched it on, showing a floor plan with serval red markings.

"See those? That are all the security cams three floors down. The data terminal is right here." She pointed at a yellow marking, then pointed at a certain hallway. "There's the ventilation shaft. It can't be seen on any of those cams, but to get to the data terminal there is one cam that needs to be taken care of. There's a panel hidden in the wall. I can slice into the security system from there and disable it, and show the security personnel some old recordings. I need you to have my back there too."

"And how do you want to disable the cam without anyone seeing you?"

"The cam shows what's going on in the hallway in front of it, not what's happening right below it. I will sneak along the wall and disable it, slice the data terminal, you have my back, and we'll be out of there before you know it."

Crosshair grabbed one of his toothpicks from the small box on the shelf next to his bed. "You said Lyle has never shown you how to slice the prison registry. What makes you think you can do it without his help?"

"I need to try!"

He rubbed his temples at her determination and stubbornness. "Fine. Just be quick." He hated the idea of having to crawl through the ventilation shafts with her, but said nothing. She wanted her friend back, and being one of her friends himself, he should support her, he figured.

Maybe I'm not so bad at this whole "making friends" thing after all…

The mere idea of crawling through the ventilation shafts with Zaree made Crosshair uncomfortable, but actually doing it? Zaree crawled in front of him, knowing which direction to go. He tried to distract himself from the view of her backside in front of him, thinking about that little mission they were pulling off.

"We have to climb down three levels." she notified him. In front of her the ventilation shaft went down and with their hands and feet on its walls they managed to climb down without making much noise. Being a sniper, Crosshair was excellent at stealth. Snipers were supposed to be invisible and deadly, and crawling down a ventilation shaft undetected was one of his strengths. It was even easier wearing only his blacks, the plastoid of his armor would have made crawling quietly somewhat harder

Three levels down they crawled with the airflow until they saw light that came through a grid. Zaree grabbed her screwdriver from her utility belt to open it.

She looked both sides down the hallways.

"Clear." She left the ventilation shaft and held out a hand for Crosshair to take, which he accepted. Afterwards she put the grid back into place, just in case.

"Let's get moving." he said in a hushed tone. Everything was going according to plan. They sneaked along the wall. Crosshair had a single blaster in his hand instead of his rifle he kept trained on the doors, ready to shot in a milisecond's notice. Meanwhile Zareena opened the panel and plugged in her datapad, slicing into the system.

"Oh man, no military funding goes into that security system, that's for sure." she chuckled. She typed on her datapad for several minutes in which Crosshair grew more and more impatient, yet he admired her skills. The way she was so focused on slicing reminded him of his brother, Tech.

They would probably get along well.

"That's it! We should remain undetected for a few minutes until they realize it's an old recording they see on their screens."

The data terminal was in a transparisteel compartment by the hallway. It was semi dark in there, in their case a clear advantage. Zareena frowned as she plugged in her datapad and worked her way to overwrite the terminal's protocols.

"And…I'm in. Great, now let's check those prisoner data." she mumbled, completely lost in her work.

Suddenly one of the doors hissed open and there were steps in the hallway. Crosshair reacted in the matter of a second, pulling Zaree into the dark corner of the compartment, putting his hand over her mouth to keep her from making any surprised noise. Her datapad was still hanging from the data terminal. If anyone looked any closer they were screwed.

Two white armored TK troopers walked past, thankfully none of them paid attention to the terminal or the trooper who kept a mechanic against his chest. They didn't dare breathe until the other door swished open and the troopers were gone. They both let out the breath they'd been holding, only to realize how close they were to each other. The look in Crosshair's eyes was more vulnerable than she had ever seen him. It trailed down to her lips, and so did hers to his own. They could feel each other's breath on their faces. Just a few centimeters closer and their lips would meet.

"We should… my datapad…" she whispered and let her hands sink from holding his waist.

"You better hurry." Crosshair's expression turned from vulnerable to sour in the matter of seconds. He wasn't mad at her, he was mad at himself.

How could I allow myself that? This is wrong. So, so wrong! You're a damn soldier, Cross! Act like it!

Zareena groaned as she opened the files. "Ugh! Fuck! There's no name to the prisoners, only numbers. But their species might be added in the data. Hang on… There it is… Umm…They have no Mon Calamari in custody? That… can't be. Lyle…" Tears were welling in her eyes as she unplugged her datapad from the terminal. "He's not in custody and there are no records that he ever was." Her shoulders sank and tears were now running down her cheeks.

Crosshair hesitated at first then put a hand on her cheek, wiping her tears with his thumb.

"We'll figure out what to do next. But first we need to get out of here."

Zaree nodded, wiping the remaining tears with the sleeve of her dark gray overall.

Back in the ventilation shaft they climbed the rest of the way down to the basement levels where the humid air greeted them. In front of the maintenance room with nobody else in sight, Zaree suddenly jumped to hug Crosshair's tall frame. He stiffened at the gesture, but eventually wrapped his arms around her waist as well.

"Thank you for helping me out tonight." she whispered into his ear and kissed his cheek as she let go of him.

She caused a warmth to spread in his chest that felt like a natural cure to the darkness that lingered there. He was afraid of that new feeling, but it felt too good to not welcome it into his heart.

"Get some sleep, I'll see you at breakfast." was all he could say.

"Funny, I just wanted to tell you the same." She yawned symbolically. "Sweet dreams, Crosshair." With a tired smile she went into the maintenance room where she crashed on the cot that for some reason smelled like deathsticks, but Zaree was too tired to care for her new co worker's bullshit.

Crosshair casually walked back to his quarters and as soon as he shut the door behind him, he hit his head back against it with a frustrated groan.

What is she doing to me? I can't allow myself to be vulnerable.

Just like her, he crashed on his bed and fell asleep almost instantly, the next morning would come soon enough. In that short night he dreamed of deep blue eyes and a smile so bright it was a contrast against her brown skin. That spark in Zareena's eyes followed him into his dreams, and Crosshair felt as light as a feather. This was no spice dream though, no, those feelings were real. He feared that they could become as addictive as spice nonetheless. His rational mind told him to be careful, while his heart yearned for more.

<- previous chapter next chapter ->

a/n: He's catching feelings, and of course he doesn't know how to handle it! This is kind of a fix it fic because I wanna give Crosshair what he deserves: Love (and some good pussy later in the story) …and maybe a much deserved break lol

#tbb crosshair #crosshair x oc #crosshair x reader #crosshair fanfiction #tbb #tbb fanfiction #the bad batch #the bad batch fanfiction

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