#Oc: Cerra Kilian

[dystopicjumpsuit]

OC Sunday: Cerra Kilian, your friendly neighborhood traitor to the Empire

Whether you need to repair a hyperdrive, infiltrate an Imperial base, or get absolutely kriffed up in the entertainment district, Cerra is your girl. GAR supply officer, turned deserter, turned full-time rebel. With a seemingly endless array of unsavory contacts and absolutely no moral qualms about sourcing supplies via questionable means, Cerra can get whatever you need, from expired ration bars to decommissioned GAR medical equipment. All that, and the odds of her deciding to adopt you are only about 60%!

Look at me. I’m the captain big sister now. Art by me 🩵

More info below the cut! Content warning for non-descriptive violence and spoilers for Stars Beyond Number.

Overview

Name: Cerra Kilian

Birth year/age: born 48 BBY; 31-32 at time of Stars Beyond Number

Species: Human

Pronouns: she/her

Orientation: bi/pan

Home planet: Corellia

Current location: Coruscant

Occupation: military supply officer (deserted); full-time traitor

Affiliation: Corellian Military Defense Force; Grand Army of the Republic; Clone Underground

Alignment: Chaotic good

Family: CT-5555 “Fives” (husband; deceased); Admiral Shoan Kilian (uncle); Lorn and Vianne Kilian (parents, estranged)

Physical characteristics

Height: 5’10”/178 cm

Eyes: brown

Hair: black (shaved)

Skin: brown

Tattoos/piercings/identifying marks: full sleeve tattoo on left arm; multiple piercings in ears; large shrapnel scar on left thigh

Personal history 

Cerra was born on Corellia, the daughter of Lorn and Vianne Kilian. Vianne, her mother, had joined the Corellian Military Defense force as a mechanic, as it was one of the only avenues to escape the Corellian underworld slums where she was born. She eventually married Lorn, whose family had a longstanding tradition of service in the CMDF. 

Cerra joined the CMDF at the age of sixteen, serving as a supply officer for ten years before the outbreak of the Clone Wars. At that time, the CMDF was absorbed into the Grand Army of the Republic, and Cerra was assigned to the 501st Legion, serving under General Anakin Skywalker. While serving as supply officer on the Resolute, Cerra became friends with Captain Rex, Jesse, and Kix, along with many other clones in the 501st and beyond. 

It is also where she first met Fives, who visited the supply office weekly to submit requests for candy. Every single request was denied, and eventually, Cerra ordered a crate of sweets to be delivered with her personal supplies, then passed it on to Fives, who distributed it to the entire battalion. She never told Fives that she’d paid for it, but he figured it out (of course). After the Battle of Kamino, Fives stopped by the supply office one last time before he shipped out for ARC training. That was the first time Cerra kissed him.

When the Resolute was destroyed at the Battle of Sullust, Cerra was on the bridge. She helped as many wounded as she could into the escape pods, including Admiral Wullf Yularen as well as several clones. She was on her way to her own escape pod when she was caught in an explosion and hit in the leg by shrapnel. A shiny she’d helped into a different escape pod that was at maximum capacity jumped out and dragged her inside, then launched the pod, staying behind on the Resolute and sacrificing his life to save her. She never knew who he was, so she had a blank Phase 2 helmet added to the tattoo sleeve on her left arm when she’d recovered from her injuries.

After Sullust, Cerra was reassigned to a different unit, serving on the Ro-ti-Mundi until the Battle of Coruscant. She stayed in touch with her friends in the 501st, taking every opportunity to spend time with them whenever leave schedules permitted. In particular, she and Fives commed each other as frequently as possible, though his ARC duties prevented them from seeing each other again until just after his mission to Lola Sayu, where Echo was presumed dead. At that point, Fives and Cerra began a relationship.

The Battle of Umbara was the turning point for the pair. The treachery of Pong Krell shook Fives’s faith in the Jedi as well as the Republic, and he told Cerra that their lives were too short and too uncertain not to seize their chance at happiness while they could. He asked her to marry him, proposing with a ring he’d carved out of plastoid armor. Despite the ban on clone marriages, Cerra didn’t hesitate, and the two married in secret. When she met Tup after Umbara, she forged a close bond with him and quickly came to see him as a younger brother. He was the only witness to Fives and Cerra’s marriage, and the only person who ever knew about it.

And then came the Battle of Ringo Vinda. 

In the months following Fives and Tup’s deaths, Cerra threw herself into working with Kix to try to discover what had happened. They were close to a breakthrough when Kix disappeared. Utterly disillusioned, with her faith in the Republic and the GAR shattered, Cerra abandoned her post following the Battle of Coruscant.

Her family did not understand. Her parents felt that she had disgraced the family by deserting, and after a disastrous visit home to Corellia, Cerra returned to Coruscant and disappeared into the underworld.

Until one day, several weeks after the fall of the Republic, Rex knocked on her door.

Personality

Fiercely loyal, sarcastic, competent (with a healthy dose of imposter syndrome), protective to a fault. Once Cerra decides she likes someone, she adopts them. They’re hers now. She's keeping them. And she’ll make sure everybody else in the group is nice to them, too—or else. Despite being an only child, she has strong older sister energy, which occasionally causes her to clash with the people she cares about.

She is pathologically opposed to displaying negative emotions in a healthy way; if she’s feeling anger or grief, she’s likely to shut down or hide rather than talk about it. After Fives’s death, she became withdrawn and reticent, not even trusting her closest friends with all of her secrets. But underneath her durasteel-reinforced-with-beskar walls, the same fierce, loyal heart still beats.

---

You can read about Cerra’s adventures in my Tup x Reader short fic “Do It Again” (NSFW), and you can find out what happened after Rex knocked on her door in my complete longfic Stars Beyond Number (sequel in progress but will not be posted until it is fully written). You can read her GAR Datafile here.

---

Taglist:

@secondaryrealm @sev-on-kamino @523rdrebel @wings-and-beskar @merkitty49

@anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @arcsimper5 @starrylothcat @clio3kantarella

@cloneloverrrrr @goblininawig @ladytano420 @arctrooper69 @sunshinesdaydream

@littlemissmanga @stunkbiggu @starqueensthings @marierg @idontgetanysleep

@moonlightwarriorqueen @dudewhynotthis @sleepycreativewriter @tcwmatchmakingau @littlemissbshine

@multi-fan-dom-madness @heavenseed76 @wizardofrozz @bobaprint @sweetcream-coldfoam

@skellymom @pickleprickle @trixie2023 @mythical-illustrator @dickarchivist

@cw80831 @kimiheartblade @flyiingsly @lightwise @swcowgal

@reader6898 @cdblake1565 @epicy0n @starstofillmydream @msmeredithrose

@totallyunidentified @eclec-tech @euphoriacafe @hipwell @yve-barr

@dangraccoon @transactivecybermemory @etod @ivyyyyy @somewhere-on-kamino

@burningnerdchild @saneabandoned @heidnspeak @maniacalbooper

[nika6q]

I tried to create the image Kix takes in @dystopicjumpsuit 's awesome (but not for minors, sorry) fic series, referenced here and here.

[arcsimper5]

A tribute to Cerra and Gregor

Putting the art under the cut because it contains spoilers for the final chapter of @dystopicjumpsuit's incredible series 'Stars Beyond Number'.

DJ, you are an absoloute hero of mine. I love your fics, I love your friendship and I love you as a person.

Enjoy this art of mine of a scene from 'Leaning Together'.

Fifteen minutes later, she heard the sound of the freighter’s hatch sealing, and she turned around just in time for Gregor to pull her into a hungry kiss as he pressed her back against the durasteel bulkhead behind the cockpit. His mouth consumed her, warm and soft, as his tongue grazed between her lips and his hands roamed over her body, cupping her breast through her coveralls, pulling her tightly against him.

[dystopicjumpsuit]

Thanks for the tag @ladyzirkonia! Some of these are so accurate it actually hurts.

Mic:

If someone they knew committed a crime, Mic would cover for them. TRUE, this is not, in fact, a headcanon, but is fully canon. He would and he has. In fact, he actively aids and abets on multiple occasions.

Mic sleeps until noon. TRUE, but in fairness, he works the closing shift at 79's, and that's after pulling a full workday at his own bar, so no judgment from me.

Mic had an emo phase. TRUE, but to this day he insists that his and Draig's teenaged band, The Horny Devils, was punk, not emo.

Draig:

Draig listens to 80s music. TRUE! He's a New Wave enthusiast.

Draig has been to prison. To the surprise of absolutely nobody, TRUE!

Draig wears Hello Kitty socks. THAT WAS ONE TIME!

Cerra:

Cerra can't sit in a chair properly. TRUE; she is a chronic chair abuser.

Cerra would buy clothes from the soup store. FALSE! Cerra would steal clothes from the soup store. Also, Cerra would buy soup from the clothes store.

Cerra almost drank the lethal dosage of caffeine once. TRUE; Echo actively wonders how she is still alive.

NPTs: @clonethirstingisreal @nika6q @freesia-writes and anyone else who wants to play! This was super fun.

I found this site that generates you a random headcanon.... How about we do that: you enter the name of a character (or your OC!), post what you got, and then comment on how true do you think it is for them!

Not true. That was very easy.

Who's next!!! @judejazza @mcwentfandomtraveling @sh0jun @lorei-writes @groovylita @queengiuliettafirstlady @scummy-writes @ludivineikewolf @yarnnerdally @yanderepuck @vioisgoinginsane @venulus @fang-and-feather @leonscape @writingwhimsey @foreverxdaydreaming @keithsandwich @verynormaluser

[fandom-friday]

Thank you so much to everyone that submitted recommendations this week! This was one HECK of a week, and it couldn't have happened without all of the submissions I received! A comprehensive list of this week’s submissions can be found under the cut! Recommendations are organized by show/media, and any main pairings will be listed after the title.

✨ = 18+ content

Fics:

The Clone Wars: Vermillion (Clone OC Specter x f!Reader) by @dickarchivist New Members (Fives x OC Rasha Skohl, Echo x OC Ari Nierre) by @fives-lover ✨ The Den (Kix x OC Nihlus Brek) by @for-the-sake-of-color ✨ Dancing Lights (Wolf!Wolffe x f!Reader) by @the-bad-batch-baroness ✨ I Yearn, And So I Fear (Wolffe x OC Kazi Ennari) by @enigmaticexplorer ✨ Man on the Moon (Fox x Riyo Chuchi) by @emeraldvsociety ✨ In Command (Rex x OC Senna Aven) by @wild-karrde ✨ Eight Shades of Blue (and the Touch of Orange) (501st Legion x f!Reader, Cody x f!Reader) by the_rain_on_kamino (AO3) Crèche to Command by Boredom (AO3) The Commander Swap by @brainrotrants Dominoes by meridianpony (AO3) Fox Hates Red by @stormyblue90 Dead Dog by @corvod

The Bad Batch: ✨ Stars Beyond Number (Echo x Riyo Chuchi, Gregor x OC Cerra Kilian) by @dystopicjumpsuit Tooka Dad (Crosshair x OC Rayla) by @drafthorsemath Sunflowers & Blasters (Crosshair x OC Isabella Ramót) by @523rdrebel Low Battery (Crosshair x gn!Reader) by @523rdrebel ✨ Cleaning Up (Tech x f!Reader) by @reader6898 Secret Kingdoms (Knight!Hunter x f!Reader) by @jedipoodoo/@lizartgurl A Cosy Bed: A Stardust Conspiracy Fanfic by @just-here-with-my-thoughts

Call of Duty: ✨ If I Had a Heart (Ghost x Soap) by @cod-fishing

Legends of Chima: The Forgotten Legends of Chima by @olivescales3

Marvel/MCU: Black and Tan (Bucky x Sarah Wilson) by @btwxsixesandsevens

Crossovers: The Misadventures of Cosplay Man (Danny Phantom x DC Comics Crossover) by Shynnohwen (AO3)

Art:

The Clone Wars: How Dominoes Fall by @frostycatblr-fandom-files Temeura Morrison Study by @keldabekush Cody with Long Hair Art by @rochenn Commander Cody Art by @captora Blade to Blade by @rackcty Anakin and Ahsoka Art by @finpews

The Bad Batch: The Bad Batch Dark Souls AU: Character Introduction by @amorfista The Bad Batch Dark Souls AU: Introduction by @amorfista Hunter and Omega Art by @eggdrawsthings Tech Art by @talesfrommedinastation

Critical Role: Caleb Widogast Art by @middimidoris

Avatar: The Last Airbender: Zuko Artwork by @chiptrillino-art

Yonderland: Cake Bake Lady Edith Art by @bahoreal

[dystopicjumpsuit]

OC Sunday: Cerra would like to speak with the management of TBB

Fireball asked for NO PICKLES, Jennifer.

Commissioned from @amalthiaph, who did amazing work! TYSM, you absolutely nailed it 🫶🫶🫶

Taglist:

@secondaryrealm @sev-on-kamino spicy-clones @523rdrebel @wings-and-beskar @merkitty49

@anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @arcsimper5 @starrylothcat @clio3kantarella

@cloneloverrrrr @goblininawig @ladytano420 @arctrooper69 @sunshinesdaydream

@littlemissmanga @stunkbiggu @starqueensthings @marierg @idontgetanysleep

@moonlightwarriorqueen @dudewhynotthis @sleepycreativewriter @tcwmatchmakingau @littlemissbshine

@multi-fan-dom-madness @heavenseed76 @wizardofrozz @bobaprint @sweetcream-coldfoam

@skellymom @pickleprickle @trixie2023 @mythical-illustrator @dickarchivist

@cw80831 @kimiheartblade @flyiingsly @lightwise @swcowgal

@reader6898 @cdblake1565 @epicy0n @starstofillmydream @msmeredithrose

@totallyunidentified @eclec-tech @euphoriacafe @hipwell @yve-barr

@dangraccoon

[dystopicjumpsuit]

SCREAMING

OMFG, look how pretty they are! AAAAAAAHHHHH! I love them so much, I'm literally crying right now!!!

Cerra Killian. Maree the Archivist.

Meet OCs Cerra Killian and Maree, property of @dystopicjumpsuit

If you’d like to be tagged for new artwork, click here.

If you’d like to see the entire collection, click here.

@theogfulcrum22 @king-chaos-world @sunshinesdaydream @starrylothcat @anxiouspineapple99 @sev-on-kamino @mire-draws-things @the-bad-batch-baroness @cloneloverrrrr @mandos-mind-trick @padawancat97 @dukeoftheblackstar @wolffegirlsunite @isthereanechoinhere96 @jediknightjana @wackylurker @moonlightwarriorqueen @wizardofrozz @multi-fan-dom-madness @starqueensthings @dickarchivist @amorfista @villanousace @mythical-illustrator @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @523rdrebel @vimse @a-single-tulip @sinfulsalutations

Commissions OPEN, click here.

Dividers by @dystopicjumpsuit

[dystopicjumpsuit]

OC Sundays: Cerra Kilian GAR Datafile

Please click for better resolution bc Tumblr is Tumblr.

I've been waiting to share this until I had all posted all the chapters of Stars Beyond Number that could possibly be spoiled, but I'm finally ready to share Cerra's official GAR personnel file!

Transcript below the cut:

GRAND ARMY OF THE REPUBLIC

Personnel Datafile

Name: Kilian, Cerra Rank: Lieutenant, first class Identifying number: SO-3283627 Duty assignment: Supply officer, Ro-Ti-Mundi, Open Circle Fleet Status: AWOL

Service Record

Prior service: Corellian military defense force - 10 years [converted] Commendations: Senate medal of valor Qualifications: Close combat - armed; Close combat - unarmed; Marksmanship Medical record: Shrapnel - lateral and anterior thigh; Post-traumatic stress; Panic disorder Remarks: C.M.D.F. position converted following establishment of G.A.R. Assigned to 501st legion - V.C.S.D. Resolute. Awarded Senate medal of valor in recognition of heroic actions at Battle of Sullust. Transferred to V.C.S.D. Ro-Ti-Mundi following battle of Sullust. Reported absent without leave following battle of Coruscant. Current whereabouts unknown.

---

I used this picrew to make Cerra's ID holo. I didn't crop out the watermark, BTW; one of the transparent backgrounds they provide is watermark-free.

Ragu list:

@secondaryrealm @sev-on-kamino @spicy-clones @wings-and-beskar @523rdrebel @merkitty49 @anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @arcsimper5 @starrylothcat @clio3kantarella @cloneloverrrrr @goblininawig @ladytano420 @arctrooper69 @wolffegirlsunite @sunshinesdaydream @mandos-mind-trick @littlemissmanga @stunkbiggu @starqueensthings @clonemedickix @marierg @idontgetanysleep @moonlightwarriorqueen @dudewhynotthis @sleepycreativewriter @tcwmatchmakingau @littlemissbshine @multi-fan-dom-madness @heavenseed76 @wizardofrozz @bobaprint @sweetcream-coldfoam @banksys-rat @skellymom @pickleprickle @trixie2023 @mythical-illustrator @dickarchivist @cw80831 @kimiheartblade

[dystopicjumpsuit]

Stars Beyond Number - Chapter 22

The Desire

Rating: M - Minors DNI

Pairings: Echo x Riyo Chuchi; Gregor x OFC Cerra Kilian

Wordcount: 3.3k

Warnings and tags: negative self-talk; Gregor having none of it; SMUT; it's finally happening; oral sex; fingering; body worship; PIV sex; I literally screamed and cried and threw my hands in the air when I typed the last line; I love them so much I can't even

Suggested Listening (strongly recommended, actually; I couldn't believe how perfectly this song fit the chapter when I heard it the first time):

Summary: 😏

A/N: This story shares continuity with Martyrs and Kings, "Double, Double Boil and Trouble" (part 2 here) and "Do It Again," but all the fics can be read as stand-alones.

Start here | Previous chapter | Next chapter | Masterlist | Sign up for my tag list | Read on AO3

Between the desire and the spasm

… falls the Shadow

—T. S. Eliot, “The Hollow Men”

“Are you all right?” Gregor asked, his soft eyes trained on Cerra’s.

She nodded. “Sorry.”

“For what?”

“Karking it up like I do everything,” she said.

His eyebrows snapped together. “Why would you say that?”

“Because you deserve better,” she said. “You should be with someone who—”

“I know what I want,” he interrupted before she could talk herself out of it. “It’s you.”

Her breath stilled. “It is?”

“Since the moment I met you.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” she asked.

 He giggled quietly. “Are you serious?”

“No need to be rude,” she said, affronted.

“I’m not trying to be,” he replied. “It’s just the truth. You weren’t ready to move on, and you didn’t need someone pressuring you. You needed a friend, and if you decide that you’re never ready for more than that, then I’ll still be the luckiest man in the karking galaxy to be the one who’s there for you.”

Her eyes burned. She dropped her forehead to rest against his neck, and he wrapped his arms gently around her back, rubbing comforting circles between her shoulder blades.

“I don’t deserve you,” she whispered.

“True,” Gregor agreed cordially, pulling a reluctant chuckle from her as she smacked his shoulder. “Sorry, were you done floggin’ yourself, or did I interrupt? I could come back later…”

“Gods, you’re the worst,” she laughed.

“You can keep going if you want. Or…” he paused and kissed her shoulder softly. “We could…” He kissed her again, closer to her neck. “Try something else.” 

He licked along her skin until he reached the base of her throat. She tilted her head to the side, exposing her neck as she inhaled deeply.

“Gregor,” she sighed.

“Mmm,” he rumbled, working his way down her sternum. 

His bare hand slipped up her waist and beneath her bra to cup her breast. She took in a soft, deep breath as she arched her body into his touch. The rough fabric of his glove scraped lightly across her tender skin as he slid his other hand under the band of her bra. He pulled his mouth away from her long enough to tug the garment over her head, and then his lips closed around her nipple as his tongue swirled over her.

“You taste amazing,” he whispered against her skin.

He dropped his hands to her hips to dip beneath the compression suit and coax it down her legs. She shifted in the seat to ease its progress, and Gregor took shameless advantage of her momentary helplessness to drag her to the edge of the seat and spread her thighs wide over his broad pauldrons as his mouth worked its way down her body, kissing, licking, biting, sucking. 

He reached her pelvis at last, slowing his progress as he inched lower with aching deliberateness until at last his tongue dipped into her. Her reaction was electric. She convulsed with a cry, her body hypersensitive from years of denying her physical needs. Her thighs tightened around him as she practically levitated off the seat.  He gripped her hips and pressed her back down, his strong fingers digging into her flesh. He swirled his tongue around her clit and into her cunt.

“Fuck!” she sobbed as her fists tightened in his hair. “Fuck, fuck, Gre—”

He groaned against her and murmured something indecipherable. His hand brushed over her knee, then drifted leisurely up the inside of her thigh, taking his time despite her desperation. By the time he finally reached his target and eased two fingers into her, she was shaking and writhing beneath him, and that delicious stretch was all it took to push her beyond the limits of her control. 

In her deprived, overwrought state, her body took over and hurled her into an unexpected orgasm that shattered her vision and wrenched a broken scream from her throat. His thick, agile fingers dragged inside her, working to prolong her climax as he gazed up at her with an expression of utter bliss and adoration in his eyes.

He gentled his movements as she came down from her high. He kissed the soft skin of her abdomen, and she tugged ineffectually at his cuirass, trying vainly to pull him closer to her. He lifted her naked body off the chair and settled her on his lap. In his full armor, he wasn’t a particularly comfortable seat, but she snuggled her face against his neck through the soft black fabric of his undersuit as she shuddered and trembled in his embrace. 

They sprawled on the floor of the cockpit, bathed in the gentle, warm glow of the nebula. Gregor cradled her in his arms, circling his thumbs slowly across her bare skin as he rested his cheek against her head. He stroked his fingers lightly over her short, velvety hair.

“Your hair is so soft,” he whispered. “I’ve never seen it this long.”

“Didn’t exactly have a way to keep it shaved while I was rotting in the Venator brig,” she replied with a low laugh.

“I like it,” he replied, pressing his lips against her head, and then again behind her ear, and a third time, along the side of her neck.

”Yeah?”

”Mm-hmm,” he hummed, his voice vibrating gently on her sensitive skin. 

“Should I grow it back out?”

”Not unless you want to.” His warm breath sent a shiver through her as he whispered next to her ear. “You’re hot as fuck either way.”

She sighed happily and trailed her fingertips up his arm, looking for the small gaps between the plastoid where she could feel his body heat through the undersuit.

“You are wearing way too much armor,” she murmured.

He chuckled. “Have to admit the codpiece is feeling a little tight.”

She huffed quietly and unclipped his vambraces, tugging them off his forearms and setting them aside. She interlaced her fingers with his and slowly pulled off his remaining glove, allowing it to drop to the floor. Next, she fumbled with his rerebraces and grumbled under her breath.

“Why is this so karking hard to take off?” she asked as irritably as she could, considering that her brain was still flooded with a blissful post-orgasmic haze.

“Because the point is for it to stay on,” he said. 

She arched an impatient brow at him, and he shot her a smug grin.

“A little help?” she asked.

He brushed his fingers beneath her jaw and tilted her face up so he could kiss her, then leaned back and began to pull off his upper body armor, stacking it one piece at a time as he did. As he worked, Cerra began to trace her fingers across the bare skin of his neck and the base of his skull. His eyes flicked to hers, and he smirked, continuing his task. Undaunted, she leaned close and licked the shell of his ear softly. He shivered, and she heard his breath catch, but his concentration didn’t break. 

Once he was stripped down to his waist, though, he had his revenge. He wrapped his arms around her and flipped them over so she was lying on her back with his body between her thighs. The durasteel floor was hard and cold against her skin, and she was briefly, ridiculously relieved that she’d had the cleaning droid work over the freighter the day before she left for Daiyu. Gregor covered her body with kisses as he fumbled with his belt. 

She wrapped her legs around his waist with a soft giggle, and he nipped at her skin in retaliation, rocking his codpiece against her. Her breath caught, and she moaned at the pressure.

“Kriff, don’t make those noises,” he rasped. “I can barely fit in this codpiece as it is.”

“Bragging?” she teased.

“Stating a fact,” he replied, grazing his lips lightly over her bruised shoulder. “You taste like bacta.”

“I thought you said I tasted amazing,” she said.

“You do,” he replied. “But this part of you also tastes like bacta.”

She heard a clatter of duraplast, and Gregor grunted in relief, having successfully freed himself from the codpiece while he distracted her.

“Maybe you should kiss me somewhere else, then,” she suggested, cupping her hand under his chin to bring his face toward hers. “Hey, soldier. My lips are up here.”

He gazed at her mouth. “I don't want to hurt you again.”

Her heart lurched.

“Please,” she whispered. 

He swallowed. Raising his hand to her cheek, he caressed her with utmost tenderness, barely touching his thumb to her lower lip. He glanced uncertainly up at her eyes, and he leaned down slowly, pausing close to her face, but not quite making contact.

“Cerra…”

“I trust you,” she breathed.

The touch of his lips was so soft it was almost imperceptible. Her eyes fluttered closed as her lips parted, as though she could block out every distraction and only drift in the sensation of his kiss. She teased his lips with the tip of her tongue, encouraging him to kiss her more deeply, and he complied with incredible care, taking his cues from her, but pulling away far sooner than she would have preferred. Perhaps it was for the best; her judgment was not to be trusted when she wanted him to consume her.

He nuzzled her cheek gently. “Your lips taste like bacta, too. Worth it, though.”

She laughed quietly as he sat up. She smoothed her hands up his torso, slipping her fingertips into the magseal of his undersuit and easing it open. The suit gave way to reveal the broad expanse of his chest, and he shrugged out of the top of the suit. From her vantage point on the floor, Cerra stared up at him, admiring the way the soft golden light glazed his warm, smooth skin and reflected in his amber eyes. His chest rose and fell quickly, and she longed to touch him.

She traced her fingertips up his abdomen, then flattened her palms against him. Gods, it had been so long since she’d felt someone else’s skin against her own. She glided over his pectorals and up to his shoulders, then back down again to ease the undersuit further down his hips until his cock sprang free, fully erect. Closing her hand around him, she squeezed gently, and a glossy bead of precum appeared at the tip. She licked her lips at the sight and started to lean toward him.

“Don’t even think about it,” he said, pressing her back down to the floor.

She looked up at him, startled. “You don’t like—”

“Not until you’re healed,” he said firmly.

“Not even a taste?” she asked, giving him the softest tooka eyes she could muster.

“Absolutely not,” he replied. “Those big eyes don’t fool me. I know you, Cerra. You won’t stop until you get what you want, and we are not playing that game right now.”

“You’re no fun,” she pouted.

“Oh, I can think of plenty of other ways we can have fun,” he grinned.

“Do any of them start with moving to a bunk?” she asked. “This floor is ridiculously hard.”

“It’s not the only thing,” he laughed.

He stood, then pulled her to her feet. She seized the opportunity to wrap her fingers around his cock again, dragging her hand over it slowly. She brushed her thumb over the tip, and then raised it to her mouth, flicking her tongue out to taste the clear fluid as mischief danced in her eyes.

“Fuck,” Gregor groaned. “You are testing my limits.”

“Oh, no, anything but that,” she whispered.

“I should’ve known you’d be a brat,” he giggled, scooping her up and tossing her over his shoulder as she shrieked with delighted laughter. 

He carried her down the corridor to the crew quarters and selected one at random, depositing Cerra on the bed carefully. She sat up to watch him with open admiration as he removed his remaining armor and undersuit.

Holy kriff, he was built. She’d spent months trying not to look at him too closely, trying to avoid the inevitable reminders of Fives. As he stripped, though, she finally let herself take a good look. He did resemble Fives—that was inescapable—but there were differences as well. The scars were different; the tattoos were different. Gregor was older than her husband had ever had a chance to be, and she could see it in his body. Between that and the commando’s genetically enhanced muscle density, he was broader and bigger than Fives, and she was quietly relieved. She wasn’t sure she would have been able to sort through her confusion if his body had been truly identical to Fives.

“Enjoying the view?” he teased, and she raked her gaze slowly up his body until she met his eyes.

“Very much,” she said, her voice low and husky.

He crawled onto the bed, caging her between his arms and legs. She reached up to stroke the side of his neck as he kissed her, and she could feel the pulse of his racing heartbeat beneath her fingertips. He pressed her back slowly until she lay on the bed. She slid her hands up his thighs as he straddled her hips, shifting beneath him to try to press herself closer to his body, but he held himself back from her.

She made an indignant little noise of protest and tried to pull him down, but he didn’t budge. He just kept kissing her with utmost gentleness when she wanted him to ruin her. She could feel his cock brushing against her abdomen, rock-hard, hot, and already slick with need. 

She knew he wanted her just as badly as she wanted him. Reaching between their bodies, she wrapped her hands around his cock and stroked him languidly. He broke away from her mouth with a groan and rested his forehead against hers, eyes squeezed tightly shut.

“Fuck, I’m trying to be careful, but you’re not making it easy,” he rasped.

“I can take it, Gregor,” she whispered. “You don’t have to be careful.”

He pushed himself back, sinking down so his thighs rested on top of her hips, trapping her in place. He stared down at her, shaking his head slightly. He trailed his fingertips over her cheek.

“Kriff, you’re so beautiful,” he said. “All the times I imagined this, I never once thought it might actually happen.”

“You imagined it?” she asked.

He giggled. “All the time. That day that we went to the market, I almost came in the shower just from hearing the sounds you were making. Didn’t even have to touch myself.”

Her eyes widened. “You were so quiet! I thought you were mad at me.”

“I had the water as cold as it would go, and I was reciting all the components of a DC-17m in my head.”

She pondered for a moment. “Is that why you were so relaxed when you came out? Because you—”

“Took care of things,” he said with a shrug. “What else was I supposed to do? Walk around the garage with a raging hard on?”

She laughed and captured his wrist, pressing her lips into his palm, then kissing a trail up his forearm. “Maybe I would have gotten a clue sooner if you had.”

He smiled, but his eyes were troubled. “All the times I imagined it, I never thought it would be like this.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

He barely touched his hand to her injured shoulder, and she flinched involuntarily. 

“See?” he asked. “I can’t just… take you—as much as I want to. I’ve got to be careful with you. I’m still working out the best strategy.”

Her heart lurched. Of course. Even now, he was watching her back: protecting her, even from himself.

“It doesn’t have to be that complicated,” she whispered. “We can just… start. And if it feels good, we can keep going, and if it hurts, we can try something else.”

He moved his fingertips lower, skimming over her breasts and circling her nipples. “Is this all right? Does it feel good?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “So good.”

He made a pleased little hum and shifted, moving to sit behind her on the bed and drawing her back against his chest. He continued to play with her breasts as she leaned against him, feeling the rigid length of his cock press against her back. He kissed the side of her head, and then the shell of her ear, working his mouth slowly down her neck and onto her shoulder. Her eyes drifted closed, and she sighed softly. 

Encouraged by her reaction, his hand stole down her body and in between her thighs, his fingers brushing over her clit with feather-light pressure, again and again, before slipping into her. She was beyond ready, and he met no resistance as he sank into her slick warmth. She heard his breath stutter harshly.

“Holy kriff,” he groaned. “You are so wet, my gods.”

He worked her open gently, and she couldn’t hold back her tiny, breathless sounds of pleasure.

“Kark, you drive me wild when you make those noises,” he whispered, grinding his cock against her lower back. 

She squirmed against him, desperate to feel more. “Please, please—”

“What is it, love?”

“I need more,” she said. “I need you.”

He pressed his lips against her neck, just below her ear. “You can have me, then.”

He withdrew his fingers from her body and guided her around until she sat in his lap, facing him as he aligned his cock with her cunt and sank gradually into her. She tilted her hips to accommodate him, breathing hard, as he stretched her in ways she hadn’t felt in years. Lovely, strong, warm hands massaged across her back and shoulders, pulling her close to him as he gazed up into her eyes.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asked.

She nodded, unable to speak. He kissed her again, so gently, so carefully, as he began to move. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding tightly as their bodies worked in perfect synchrony, their hips rolling together, their breath coalescing. He dropped his head to rest on her sternum, and she leaned her cheek against his hair as she slid her hands up the back of his head.

He shifted their angle slightly, his hands descending to grip her hips as he began to drive into her harder and faster, thrusting against a place deep inside her in a way that rapidly stoked the tension in her body until she felt as though every muscle and nerve had wound itself into an impossibly tight knot at the base of her spine. 

He reached between their bodies and pressed his fingers against her clit, working in tiny, frantic circles, until all her muscles seized, arching her back and clamping her legs around his waist as she shattered. She barely heard his hoarse grunt as he thrust into her one last time, burying himself as deeply as she could take him, emptying into her as she sobbed with pleasure. 

He whimpered quietly as his lips found hers, his tongue sweeping into her mouth as she rode out the last few moments, drawing out the pleasure until her muscles gave out and she collapsed against him. He held her close to him and leaned them back until they were lying on the bed. Her head rested against his chest, and she listened as the pounding of his heart began to slow and the deep, gasping breaths of his lungs gradually returned to normal.

Exhaustion pulled at her. Her entire body felt boneless and relaxed—safe for the first time in weeks. Gregor toyed aimlessly with the short hair at the nape of her neck, and her eyes drifted closed as she sank into oblivion. As she crossed the threshold into unconsciousness, she wasn’t sure whether she heard or imagined his quiet whisper.

”I love you, too.”

---

Next chapter

[dystopicjumpsuit]

Stars Beyond Number - Chapter 20

A Whimper

Rating: M - Minors DNI

Pairings: Echo x Riyo Chuchi; Gregor x OFC Cerra Kilian

Wordcount: 2.4k

Warnings and tags: the shit hits the fan; mentions of Plan 99 (spoilers for TBB season 2 finale); angst; suspense; canon-typical violence (bearing in mind that in canon Mando cuts a dude in half, soooo... adjust expectations accordingly); references to torture; choking; blood and injury; character death; language.

Suggested Listening:

Summary: Echo deals with the fallout of Plan 99; Cerra has a polite conversation with the Empire.

A/N: This story shares continuity with Martyrs and Kings, "Double, Double Boil and Trouble" (part 2 here) and "Do It Again," but all the fics can be read as stand-alones.

Start here | Previous chapter | Next chapter | Masterlist | Sign up for my tag list | Read on AO3

…Not with a bang but a whimper.

—T. S. Eliot, “The Hollow Men”

Echo sat motionless in the cockpit of the Marauder, staring blindly at the navigation controls. Tech was gone. They’d lost. And all of it had been for nothing. They had no way of locating Hemlock or his base—no way of finding Crosshair. Echo hadn’t just failed to bring one brother home; he’d lost another.

He mentally replayed those fateful moments in the railcar again and again. Could he have worked faster? Could he have done anything differently? Could he have changed the outcome? He didn’t know, and that uncertainty haunted him.

He turned to stare at the empty pilot’s seat. For an instant, Echo could almost see Tech there. He swallowed hard, pushing down the overwhelming grief that tightened in his throat, choking off his breath. His head hurt; his chest ached; his eyes burned with unshed tears.

Gonky shuffled into the cockpit and squawked so quietly that Echo didn’t hear him at first. The droid moved closer and honked a little louder, trying to get Echo’s attention.

Echo blinked and looked away from the vacant pilot’s seat. “What is it?”

Distantly, he heard a familiar rumble, and his heart began to race. He launched out of the co-pilot’s seat and sprinted out of the Marauder. He spotted the Venator hovering over Ord Mantell City and immediately commed Hunter. 

“Hunter, the Empire's here.” No answer came. “Hunter, do you copy? Wrecker?”

There was no reply; nothing but static on the comms.

Kark.

Cerra stumbled as the TK trooper shoved her into the corridor. She subtly tested the binders on her wrists, but they held fast. She fought down the tide of panic rising in her chest and tried to ignore the way her breath was beginning to spiral out of control. 

Exhale. One, two, three, four, five. Inhale. One, two, three, four, five. Oh, god, what if I never see Gregor again? Exhale. One, two, three, four, five. Don’t think about it. Inhale. One, two, three, four, five. 

She forced herself to focus on solving her immediate problems. First, she needed to get out of the binders. Impossible. Next, neutralize the trooper and take his blaster. He’ll blast me before I ever touch the deecee. Next, get to the hangar, steal a shuttle, and hit up the first Starcups she could find.

Piece of uj cake, she thought. Kriff, I’m going to die.

Her sense of impending doom only intensified when she reached the torture chamber—or rather, “enhanced interrogation room.” A stocky man in an officer’s uniform waited next to a table fitted with numerous restraints and an array of control panels and sinister-looking instruments. A tray of surgical tools and hypo-syringes sat next to it, neatly arranged. 

At least he’s organized. I’d hate to be tortured to death by someone who was sloppy.

“Agent Daivik, I presume?” she asked.

“Ah, Miss Kilian. So good of you to join me,” Daivik said smoothly. He turned to the TK trooper. “Take off her binders and get out.”

“Can’t wait to get me alone?” she quipped as the trooper unlocked the manacles.

“Hardly,” Daivik sniffed. “You are only useful because of the information you possess. Please lie down.”

“Aren’t you going to buy me a drink first?” she asked, rubbing her wrists to get the blood flowing to her hands again.

Daivik smirked, then his fist slammed into her shoulder and sent her careening backwards, the backs of her legs colliding with the interrogation table. He grabbed her by the throat and shoved her down onto the table. She kicked her feet desperately, but he pinned down her thighs with one of his legs as he forced her to lie flat on her back. She scratched and grappled with his hand that clamped around her throat in a vise-like grip.

“Ju—Ch—” she sputtered as her airway closed.

“Ready to talk so soon?” he snarled. “I’m just getting started.”

Nevertheless, he loosened his grip enough that she could speak.

“Choke me harder, Daddy,” she rasped.

He snatched his hand away with a revolted curse, and she saw her opening. She headbutted him with all the force she could muster, and his nose made a sickening crunch as her forehead smashed into his face. He staggered backward, and she seized a scalpel off the surgical tray and plunged it into his neck. Blood sprayed out of him instantaneously, spattering thickly over her hand, arm, and face, and she lost her grip on the scalpel as the hot, slippery fluid coated her fingers. 

Daivik’s pale blue eyes opened wide with shock, but he staggered toward her, his hands outstretched toward her neck. She clenched her hand into a fist and pounded the scalpel deeper into his throat, then curled her legs up and kicked him away with both feet. He lurched backward and fell, landing with a heavy thud. He went abruptly still as his head collided with the durasteel floor.

She leaned forward on the edge of the table, bracing her hands on her knees as she gasped for air. Her vision blurred, and with her clean hand, she wiped Daivik’s blood out of her eyes. The door hissed open, and the TK trooper rushed into the room. Cerra lunged for another scalpel, but before she could strike, she saw a flash of blue, and the trooper collapsed to the floor. A clone in gray and white armor stood behind him, blaster still raised. Cerra crouched in a defensive position, scalpel clutched in her fist. The clone smacked the control panel to close the door behind him, then lowered his blaster.

“You know, if you wanted to see me, all you had to do is comm,” he said as he removed his helmet to reveal a familiar scarred face and mismatched eyes: one brown, and one a cybernetic silver.

“Wolffe?” she gaped, her voice hoarse and ragged from Daivik’s bruising grip on her throat. “What are you doing here?”

“Saw you on the security holofeeds and thought you might need help.” He spared a glance at Daivik’s corpse. “Looks like I was right.”

“I had it under control,” she lied, her breath coming in short, sharp bursts.

“You were about to bring a scalpel to a blaster fight,” Wolffe said pointedly.

“Kriff you,” she replied without heat.

“Kriff me yourself, coward,” he grinned.

“Holocams?” she asked.

“Surveillance feeds are off for this room and the corridor outside. You all right?”

“Is that a rhetorical question?” she asked, pulling off her jacket and using it to wipe the blood off herself as much as possible.

“You don’t look so bad,” Wolffe said as he quickly began to strip off the TK trooper’s armor. 

She moved to help. “Been better, been worse.”

“What’s your plan for getting out of here?” he asked.

“Steal a shuttle,” she said.

“I like it. Simple, straightforward.”

“Want to come with me?” she asked.

He shook his head as they wrestled the TK trooper out of his compression suit. “I’ll stay here and cover for you from the command deck.”

“You sure?” she asked doubtfully. “They’re going to suspect I had help.”

“I’ll stay,” he repeated. “I have… other duties to fulfill.”

He turned his back to give her privacy as she changed into the black body glove, then handed her the armor one piece at a time as she suited up. 

“It’s a hell of a coincidence, you being on the exact ship they brought me to,” Cerra observed.

“Sure is,” he said, not meeting her eyes.

“Almost like someone knew I got captured and sent you in after me,” she said.

“That’d be quite the twist, wouldn’t it?” he agreed noncommittally. “Good thing neither of us knows anyone who would do that.”

“Good thing,” she agreed as she settled the helmet onto her head. “How do I look?”

“Not bad,” Wolffe replied. “You might want to take this, though.”

He drew one of his blasters and offered it to her. 

“I’ve got his deecee,” she said, gesturing toward the unconscious TK trooper. “I’m good.”

“Trust me, you want this one,” Wolffe said.

She glanced down at the blaster in his hand, and her breath caught as she recognized Jesse’s modifications.

“I could only find the one,” he said. “But I knew you’d want it back.”

Her throat tightened, and she swallowed hard before she managed to reply, “Thanks.”

He nodded, his eyes sympathetic. “Ready?”

“Any time. It was good seeing you, buddy.”

“You, too, kid,” Wolffe said, sliding his helmet firmly into place. “I’ll see you around.”

“That a promise?” she asked.

“Clone’s honor.”

They stepped into the corridor, and Wolffe closed and locked the door behind them. With any luck, nobody would discover Daivik’s body and the TK trooper until Cerra was safely off the Venator. With one final nod at each other, they parted, Wolffe heading to the bridge while Cerra made her way to the flight deck. 

She forced herself to walk at a normal pace to avoid drawing attention, though her instincts screamed at her to run. Her heart pounded, and she was grateful for the helmet that hid her face from the Imperials she passed in the passageways; she didn’t think she would be able to disguise her anxiety without it.

The hangar was nearly deserted when she arrived—no doubt thanks to Wolffe. Nobody noticed an extra TK trooper in the shuttle bay. Cerra selected a shuttle, then quickly located and disabled its transponder beacon. Once she powered up the shuttle, the Imperials would know something was wrong. She would have an incredibly narrow window to get out of range of the tractor beam. There would be no time to program the hyperdrive navicomputer; she’d have to use the last inputted coordinates and hope for the best. She took a deep breath and boarded the shuttle.

Settling into the pilot’s seat, Cerra began running as many of the pre-flight protocols as she could before engaging the sublight engine. This is it, then, she thought, beginning the power-up sequence and maneuvering the shuttle out of the bay.

The comms crackled almost immediately. “Nu-class shuttle, you are not cleared for takeoff. Return to the—”

She muted the transmission, then punched the thrusters to top speed, blasting out of the hangar and into space. The Venator opened fire, but as soon as she was clear of the ship, Cerra jumped to hyperspace. Safely away, she yanked off her helmet and leaned back in her seat, gasping for air.

“I can’t believe that worked,” she said aloud with a short, incredulous laugh.

Riyo stared at the flickering hologram of Echo’s face, feeling as though all the oxygen had been forcefully ripped from her lungs.

“How?” she whispered. “What happened?”

“The Trandoshan sold us out,” Echo replied, his face grim and twisted by grief and anger. “We barely made it out alive.”

“Why would the Empire take Omega? What do they want with her?”

“I don’t know. That Imperial—Hemlock—he said something about Nala Se. He said she’s still alive.”

Riyo frowned. “Could she have escaped the destruction of Tipoca City? Halle Burtoni told me there were a few Kaminoans scattered throughout the galaxy, but she didn’t mention Nala Se.”

“If Nala Se is working for the Empire, that can only spell trouble for us clones,” Echo said.

“I agree. We should discuss this with Rex. When will you be back to Coruscant?” Riyo asked.

Echo glanced away, refusing to meet her eyes.

Her heart began to pound. “Echo?”

He took a deep breath before he replied. “I’m not coming back to Coruscant.”

She blinked. “... What?”

“I’m staying with Hunter and Wrecker,” he said quietly. “Omega is still out there somewhere, in Imperial hands. We have to find her.”

“Cerra is still out there, too!” Riyo protested. “We need you here! We need you—”

“Riyo,” Echo said gently. “Rex and the others are doing everything they can to find her. I trust them, and I trust that she can take care of herself until they find her. Besides, if I know Cerra, she’s already making whoever took her wish they were never born. But Omega is only a child. We can’t abandon her.”

He was right, of course. She knew he was right. But knowing he was right didn’t make the crushing weight in her chest feel any lighter. She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She bit back the selfish words that sprang to her lips, knowing that speaking them aloud would only make things worse. Nevertheless, they reverberated in her mind.

I need you. I love you. Come back to me.

Echo reached for her through the holocomm, and she closed her eyes for a moment, imagining that she could feel the warmth of his touch.

“We will see each other again,” he said. “I swear it, Riyo. This isn’t the end for us.”

Without her comlink, Cerra had no choice but to use the shuttle’s communicator to contact Rex. Not only were the shuttle’s comms not secure, it was possible that the Empire was actively monitoring them. She keyed in the details for one of the team’s burner comm channels.

“Code kilo-three-two-seven. Scrapper to Monarch, come in,” she said. The minutes ticked by in agonizing slowness as she awaited a reply. When none came, she tried again. “Monarch, this is Scrapper. Please respond.”

The comm was silent. Fighting down her rising panic, Cerra ran a diagnostic to make sure it was functional. All systems were normal. She was just about to try a third time when the voice she loved most in the entire galaxy crackled through the speaker.

“Scrapper, this is Watchman. Good to hear your voice.”

Gregor. Oh, thank kriff. Tears of relief stung her eyes, and she hurriedly blinked them away as she responded.

“Back at you, Watchman.” Her voice cracked, and she swallowed. “Really good.”

“What’s your status?”

“I’m all right, but I could use a ride. Any chance you’re free for a pickup?” she asked.

“Affirmative. Head to delta-one-alpha-eight-two. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Copy that, Watchman. Fly casual.”

“You, too, Scrapper.”

Gregor ended the transmission, and Cerra let out a shaky breath. It was over. She was going home.

---

Next chapter

[dystopicjumpsuit]

Ooh, myyy! This looks FUN!

❤️OC x Canon Ship HCs🤍

Ship a canon character with one of my OCs, and I’ll give you 5 HCs about their relationship.

[dystopicjumpsuit]

Stars Beyond Number - Chapter 18

The Way the World Ends, Part 2

Rating: T (rating varies by chapter; mature content will be tagged; regardless of rating, minors DNI)

Pairings: Echo x Riyo Chuchi; Gregor x OFC Cerra Kilian

Wordcount: 2.8k

Warnings and tags: angst; suspense; canon-typical violence; discussion of a corpse and cause of death; language.

Suggested Listening:

Summary: The strike team returns from Balmorra; Echo makes a graceful exit; Gregor and Riyo make an unexpected trip.

A/N: This story shares continuity with Martyrs and Kings and "Do It Again," but all three fics can be read as stand-alones.

Start here | Previous chapter | Next chapter | Masterlist | Sign up for my tag list | Read on AO3

…This is the way the world ends…

—T. S. Eliot, “The Hollow Men”

If Echo was concerned that Gregor would be off his game after his argument with Cerra, he soon found that was not the case. If anything, the commando was more focused than usual, barely engaging in any of his usual banter the first day of the mission. It was kriffing weird, and Echo didn’t like it. Luckily, his humor improved steadily, and by the time several days later that Rex signaled that the mission was a go, the commando was nearly vibrating with adrenaline.

The extraction was a near-total success. The team worked together flawlessly. They recovered Howzer and his men, and the team didn’t even sustain any injuries. The only downside was the data transfer. Echo wasn’t sure how much he’d been able to retrieve after the imps tried to erase all the records, and though he spent the entire hyperspace jump back to Coruscant working on it, he wasn’t able to crack the encryption on his own.

He needed help. He needed Tech. 

The data couldn’t be transmitted until it was decrypted, which meant Echo had no choice but to deliver the data spike in person. He couldn’t deny that he was looking forward to seeing the Batch again; he’d tried to comm them when he could over the past weeks, but galactic time zones and his own unpredictable schedule often meant he was only able to leave or receive a brief holomessage. Given everything he’d discovered about Fives, though, he very much wanted to see his family and have an opportunity to discuss it with them.

Echo harbored no doubts about the righteousness of Rex’s mission, but when he thought about all of the secrets that had begun to be revealed—and those that still remained hidden—he felt a deep foreboding that some time, possibly very soon, there would be a reckoning. When that happened, it seemed inevitable that Echo would have to choose between staying the course with Rex’s group and rejoining the Batch. Before he could make that choice, he needed to have an honest conversation with Riyo about exactly where they stood.

As they approached Coruscant, Echo grew antsy at the thought of seeing her again. He would need to leave almost immediately after dropping off the rest of the team, but he hoped he could at least find a moment to see her in person before he departed.

He was surprised to see the senator herself waiting with her guards when they landed on the garage platform. The Pantoran guards helped Howzer and his men get settled in and fed. Gregor’s eyes quickly scanned the garage, his eyebrows drawing together as he noted the absence of the freighter. Riyo explained that Cerra had departed on a mission the previous day.

“Where?” Gregor asked shortly.

“I don’t know,” Riyo replied. “Rex asked me to send someone to guard the garage until one of the away teams returned.”

“I’m glad you decided to join them,” Echo said. “I was hoping I’d see you before I had to go again.”

“You’re leaving?” she asked, surprised.

Howzer joined them, and Echo didn’t have a chance to explain further. He introduced the captain to Riyo, and they immediately began to discuss the conditions on Balmorra, while Gregor went to help the others settle in. The longer Howzer spoke, the more determined Riyo’s face became. 

“We must find out where that ship was headed,” she said.

“I recovered a portion of the data logs,” Echo said. “It's heavily encrypted, but I know someone who can crack it.”

He hesitated. There was so much more he wanted to say, but it was too private, too personal to say in front of Howzer. Riyo met his gaze with understanding in her eyes.

“Go,” she said firmly. “I'll take care of things here and see what else I can find out.” 

“Thank you, Senator,” he said, hoping that she knew how much he meant those words.

She looked up at him with a gentle smile as she laid her hand softly on his shoulder. “Be careful, Echo.”

He nodded, then turned to leave, wishing that he could kiss her goodbye. He was only likely to be gone a few days, but something tugged at him, leaving him unsettled. As he boarded the Remora, he couldn’t help sneaking one last glance back at Riyo, only to meet her eyes as he discovered that she had never looked away.

True to her word, Riyo remained at the garage with Gregor, Howzer, and the others. Her stomach churned with anxiety when she thought too hard about Echo’s mission, but she was determined to keep her promise to take care of the fledgling resistance group in the repair shop until Rex, Echo, or Cerra returned to relieve her. She knew she would have to return to the Senate before long; otherwise, she would risk drawing unwanted attention to her movements—not to mention being guilty of gross negligence of her duties to the people of Pantora.

Her advocacy for the clones had already put her under an Imperial microscope. The smallest misstep could prove fatal not only for herself, but for Echo, Rex, and the others—even for her guards. They had willingly volunteered to assist Riyo in her efforts, but she could not deny that without her influence, they would have been highly unlikely to have gotten involved in an endeavor that was by its very nature an act of treason.

Riyo had vowed to serve a Republic that no longer existed. Every day, the last vestiges of that Republic were being smothered by the inexorable momentum of the Empire. She refused to sit in complacency and allow that to happen. She would fight to her last breath in the Senate, the only way she knew how.

But for now, she stayed in the garage, making sure Howzer and his men received the medical care they needed after their experience with the Empire’s particular brand of hospitality, disbursing funds for supplies, and hoping to every god in the galaxy that she didn’t kriff anything up. It wasn’t as though Gregor, Nemec, and Fireball particularly needed her. They were all perfectly capable of taking care of things on their own, and more than once, Riyo questioned why exactly it was she felt so very determined to stick close to the group who clearly did not require a babysitter. Still, none of them indicated that she was unwelcome, and she supposed that if an emergency arose, she could respond faster if she didn’t have to make the long trek from the Federal district through Coruscant’s endless traffic.

Gregor, in particular, bonded quickly with Howzer and his men. With his laid-back and genial personality, the commando had a way of making friends easily, and Riyo sometimes thought he’d have made an excellent politician, if it hadn’t been for his total lack of filter and his occasionally ribald sense of humor. He helped the newcomers settle in, and if his efforts on the rescue mission hadn’t already secured their enduring loyalty, his cooking would have done so.

Things went surprisingly smoothly, right up until they didn’t.

Two days after Echo’s departure, Gregor received a comm from Rex. He took the call in the main hangar bay, but when he saw the somber expression on Rex’s face, the commando glanced at Riyo and jerked his head to motion her toward Rex’s tiny office. He closed the door behind them and asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Cerra’s in trouble,” Rex replied without preamble.

Gregor’s relaxed posture didn’t change, but his eyes sharpened, and there was an edge to his voice as he asked, “What kind of trouble?”

Riyo’s gaze darted between Gregor and the flickering blue hologram of Rex’s face. There was a tense undercurrent between the two clones. She didn’t fully comprehend its complexities, but she hadn’t become a senator without learning how to read people, and her instincts warned her to tread carefully in this conversation.

“She went to Daiyu to extract a clone named Nax,” Rex said. “I don’t know exactly what happened, but…”

He trailed off, and Gregor leaned forward impatiently. “What the kriff aren’t you telling me?”

“She commed me,” Rex replied. “There was no sign of Nax, and the contact she was supposed to meet was dead.”

“Empire?” Gregor asked.

“Unsure, but seems likely,” Rex replied.

“Any word from your mysterious person on the inside?” Gregor asked.

Rex hesitated. “I’m still waiting to hear.”

“So Cerra needs backup to find this Nax,” Gregor mused. “I can go. Take Nemec with me. Maybe Fireball. We’ll take that rusty piece of kark shuttle. Tell Cerra to lie low until we get there; that shuttle’s hyperdrive is powered by snail—”

“Cerra was shot,” Rex interrupted bluntly.

Riyo gasped, her eyes wide with shock. Gregor froze, staring at the hologram. He didn’t speak, but his face took on an expression of such fury that Riyo took an instinctive step backward.

“I need you to meet me on Daiyu,” Rex said. “Riyo, is there a chance you can get a ship that can get there fast and without being tracked?”

Riyo swallowed. “Yes. My diplomatic shuttle. I’ll need to go with you to avoid suspicion, though. There are security protocols in—”

“Set it up,” Gregor cut in. “We’re leaving now.”

Despite Gregor’s urgency, it took some time to depart Coruscant. Riyo had to return to the Pantoran embassy to retrieve the shuttle, and the rest of the group in the garage needed to be briefed. Gregor explained the situation quickly as he suited up in his armor, then sent Riyo a set of coordinates a short hyperspace jump away where he would rendezvous with her diplomatic shuttle to avoid anyone asking questions about why she was boarding an official vessel in the company of a fugitive clone commando.

She signaled her shuttle to be ready to depart as soon as she returned to the embassy. Adrenaline coursed through her veins. How is it that I always seem to end up getting into trouble every time I talk to Rex? she mused. She hoped nobody would be shooting at her this time, but she doubted her luck was that good.

The shuttle was waiting when she arrived, and within minutes, they made the jump to hyperspace. Unsurprisingly, they arrived at the rendezvous point before Gregor, but his antiquated shuttle wasn’t too far behind. They docked, he transferred to her ship, and by the time she and Gregor joined the pilot in the cockpit, the two ships had already separated and they’d made the jump to hyperspace. The entire exchange had taken less than a minute, and Riyo wondered exactly how many times the commando had performed that exact maneuver.

“Nemec will take our shuttle back to the garage,” Gregor said. “Assuming the freighter is intact, I’ll fly it home from Daiyu. Shouldn’t need to jump through that hoop again.”

“How exactly are you planning to find the freighter?” Riyo asked. “Daiyu is a big place.”

“Tracking beacon,” he replied. “Cerra puts encrypted trackers in all of our ships and speeders. She likes to keep track of things. Supply officer, you know.” He giggled. “I’d be surprised if she hasn’t tagged your speeder with one. Might want to have your guards have a look over it.”

“I’m surprised you’re able to make a joke at a time like this,” Riyo said, slightly shocked at his apparent callousness.

Gregor raised an eyebrow. “Who says I’m joking?”

She blinked. “You laughed…”

“Don’t have much control over that,” he replied. “You try gettin’ blown up sometime. Let me know how it shakes out for you.”

Realization dawned, and with it came shame.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed,” she said.

Gregor shrugged. “Not the worst thing someone has said about me.”

They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence, until finally Riyo hesitantly asked, “Do you think Cerra is all right?”

Gregor stared out the viewport into the dizzying blue swirl of hyperspace. He didn’t respond.

Daiyu was a miserable place. The lurid neon glow of the city entirely failed to distract from its overwhelming atmosphere of desperation and suffering. In many ways, it reminded Riyo of the Coruscant underworld with its bright lights and dark secrets, but Daiyu also had the questionable distinction of being a major center of the spice trade. The system had been a thorn in the side of the galaxy for decades. The Republic had never succeeded in regulating Daiyu, and it seemed the Empire was meeting with similar obstacles—assuming regulation was indeed their goal.

They located the freighter quickly, thanks to Cerra’s tracking beacon. Rex was waiting for them when they docked in the tiny, out-of-the-way shipyard.

“Senator,” he greeted her, nodding quickly at Gregor. “You should remain with your ship. Better yet, you should take it back to Coruscant. This place isn’t safe for you.”

“Not a chance,” Riyo declared. “Cerra is my friend, too.”

“And she’ll shoot me herself if I let anything happen to you,” Rex replied tersely.

“Not to mention what Echo will do,” Gregor interjected.

“It’s not a negotiation,” Riyo said firmly. “I’m coming with you.”

“Not dressed like that, you’re not,” Gregor replied. “The minute you step onto the street, the entire planet will spot an easy mark.”

“Because a clone commando blends in so well,” she retorted.

“My armor might not blend, but at least it’s armor,” he pointed out.

Rex sighed. “Fine. You can come with us. Stick close, and put this on.”

He handed her a cloak of dubious cleanliness and extreme shabbiness.

“Do I want to know where you got this?” she asked.

“Probably not. If you have a blaster, I suggest you get ready to use it.”

Their search went both better and worse than expected. Riyo did not get stabbed, shot, or robbed, and nobody was more surprised than she. Unfortunately, that was where their good luck ended. They scouted the decrepit building where the rendezvous was supposed to happen, and they found nothing but the corpse of a Rodian who appeared to have been dead for some time.

“At least two days, maybe more, judging by the, er… rodent activity,” Gregor said. “Looks like he was executed. Blaster shot, point-blank.”

“Tortured?” Rex asked.

“Hard to say,” Gregor said. “Body’s not in great condition.”

Riyo felt sick. She looked away quickly, breathing carefully, trying not to think about it.

“Scan the building. Try to find anything that can tell us who took her,” Rex ordered.

They searched efficiently, but the detritus in the abandoned structure yielded no clues. Gregor kicked a pile of rubbish in disgust.

“This is pointless. It could have been anyone. Empire, spice deal gone wrong, even a syndicate hit,” he growled at Rex. “Tell me you asked your contact to look into it.”

“I asked my contact to look into it,” Rex replied, his voice brimming with frustration. “They’re looking into it.”

“Now what?” Riyo asked.

“Now we look for Nax,” Rex replied. “Cerra isn’t the only person we’re missing.”

They searched fruitlessly for hours. Daiyu City was massive and densely populated, and a single clone trooper could—apparently—disappear completely into its chaos. And that was assuming Nax had ever been on the planet to begin with; they still didn’t know exactly when or where the breach in their operational security had happened. For all they knew, the man himself might have been the one who betrayed them. Whatever the case, one thing was undeniable: Nax was in the wind. They could search for him for years and never find him.

 At last, Rex called off the search, and they headed back to the dockyard. Gregor had fallen silent, his helmet blocking any attempt Riyo made to get a read on him. Rex, in his civilian clothing, was easier. His jaw was clenched, his eyes hard, and he occasionally glanced at Gregor with a troubled expression. When they reached the spaceport, Rex escorted Riyo to her shuttle while Gregor went to the freighter without a word.

“What will you do?” she asked.

Rex was silent for a moment, weighing his response. “There’s not much we can do. With any luck, my contact in the Empire will be able to track Cerra down. But if it wasn’t the Empire…”

He trailed off, and Riyo knew without being told. They might never find Cerra.

Alone in the freighter, Gregor removed his helmet and set it on the co-pilot’s seat next to Cerra’s. Her caf mug was still tucked into the armrest of the pilot’s seat, cold and empty. He ignored it, powering up the freighter’s engines and setting a course out of Daiyu’s atmosphere. 

Once he cleared the planet’s gravity well and jumped to hyperspace, he slumped forward and dropped his head into his hands. His shoulders hitched, and he began to laugh. He clamped his hand over his mouth as tears streamed down his face. He couldn’t stop, and he couldn’t hold it in. When the laughter finally subsided, he snatched the travel mug and hurled it across the cockpit with a scream of rage and frustration.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

---

Next chapter

[dystopicjumpsuit]

Stars Beyond Number - Chapter 23

Eyes I Dare Not Meet

Rating: M - Minors DNI

Pairings: Echo x Riyo Chuchi; Gregor x OFC Cerra Kilian

Wordcount: 2.5k

Warnings and tags: SMUT; unprotected PIV; a character is consensually pinned down during sex; discussion of blood, injury, violence, and character death; mentions of Plan 99; brief angst; fluff.

Suggested Listening:

Summary: Cerra and Gregor return to Coruscant.

A/N: This story shares continuity with Martyrs and Kings, "Double, Double Boil and Trouble" (part 2 here) and "Do It Again," but all the fics can be read as stand-alones.

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Eyes I dare not meet in dreams

In death’s dream kingdom

—T. S. Eliot, “The Hollow Men”

Cerra woke gradually, surrounded by Gregor’s familiar warmth and scent. For once, no layers of blankets and clothing separated their bodies. He curled around her, his warm skin pressed against hers, his front against her back, his legs tucked behind her thighs, his arm wrapped around her waist, his breath soft against her neck. 

She stretched luxuriously and arched her back, very intentionally rolling her ass against his hips. As she ground against him in leisurely, deliberate motions, she felt his cock harden rapidly. 

“Good morning,” she whispered. “Are we in hyperspace?”

“Mm-hmm,” he murmured, stroking his hand lower down her belly. “How’s your shoulder?”

She rolled it experimentally, then glanced down to see that the bruise had already faded significantly thanks to the bacta. “Better. How’s my face?”

”Beautiful,” he replied.

She laughed. “I meant is the bruising better?”

He traced his fingers along her jaw and tilted her head so he could see her face. His thumb brushed over her lips. “The swelling is gone. Bruises are a little lighter.” He kissed her softly. “Did that hurt?”

”Not even a little bit,” she said. “But you should probably try again, just to be sure.”

He smiled and leaned in again, and her breath caught as she gazed into his eyes. Gods, he was so gorgeous. He hesitated before he kissed her, observing her closely.

”What’s on your mind?” he asked. “I recognize that expression.”

”I was just wishing I hadn’t wasted so much time when I could have spent it with you,” she replied.

”You did spend it with me,” he said, gliding his fingertips across her shoulder and down her arm.

”You know what I mean,” she said.

”Mm-hmm,” he said, kissing her cheek. “I just don’t think it was wasted time.”

”Still,” she said, “it feels like we have a lot of catching up to do.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled subtly as he smiled. “Well, it’s a hundred and six parsecs to Coruscant. Let’s make the most of it.”

He slipped his hand between her thighs and slowly dragged his fingers in circles around her clit. She breathed out a soft, contented sigh, tilting her head as his lips began to kiss a meandering path down her neck and shoulder. He shifted, and she felt the head of his cock drag along her ass and press between her thighs until it nudged against her cunt. She pushed back against him, and he slid into her languorously, moving with unhurried thrusts until he was seated fully inside her.

She was still sore from the previous night, and her body felt wonderfully drowsy and relaxed. Gregor’s stamina was mind-blowing. He’d fucked her for hours before they finally fell asleep, and even now she was too exhausted to move, but he touched her with gentle deftness as he rocked into her. Her pleasure gradually built with each slow, blissful drag of his cock, drawing hushed moans and sighs from her.

“I love the way you feel,” he whispered, his warm breath against her ear sending tingles racing down her neck. “So soft, so pretty. Do you like this?”

“Mmm,” she nodded. “Don’t stop.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he chuckled.

He flattened his palm against her lower abdomen, pressing firmly to increase the stimulation of his cock, and she felt her orgasm building rapidly, her body tensing around him.

“Are you going to come for me, love? Will you give me one more?”

“Yes,” she gasped. “Yes, yes, fuck yes, oh gods, please—”

“Come on, then,” he coaxed. “Let me feel you.”

She yelped as her climax crashed into her, her muscles spasming uncontrollably, but Gregor didn’t slow his movements. His arms tightened around her, and he continued to thrust into her in a lazy, sensuous rhythm. He nuzzled his face against her short, velvety hair and kissed the soft skin just behind her ear. 

“Can I have another?” he whispered.

She shook her head a little frantically. “I can’t.”

“I think you can,” he murmured. “One more, beautiful girl, and then you can have my cum.”

She shuddered.

“Mmm, did you like that?” he asked. “Do you like thinking about me filling this perfect little cunt until it drips out of you?”

She whimpered, her brain refusing to form words.

”I think you did. I could feel you tighten around me when I said it.”

”God,” she gasped.

“I’ll give you everything I have, sweetheart. All you have to do is come for me one more time. Will you do that for me?”

“I’ll try,” she panted.

“What do you need?” he asked. “Use your words, angel, tell me how you want me.”

“Harder,” she said raggedly.

“You want it harder?” he asked, thrusting deeply into her. “You want to feel what what I can do?”

“Yes, fuck yes!”

”You want me to fuck you like I wouldn’t do last night?”

”Please, gods,” she begged.

Still buried deep inside her, he gripped her hips and rolled her onto her stomach, straddling her thighs. He thrust hard and rough, and the additional pressure of her legs as he held them together made his cock feel impossibly thick. He took her hand in his, interlacing his fingers with hers as he pressed her into the mattress. The weight of his body on top of her, caging her in his arms and legs, made her feel utterly safe and protected, even as he forced the breath from her lungs with every punishing thrust.

“Is this what you wanted?” he rasped.

“Ye—yes,” she groaned. “Harder!”

He laughed quietly. “You asked for it.”

He increased his speed, setting a brutal pace that had her wailing and sobbing into the sheets, her words garbling into an endless stream of curses and pleading, until there were no words at all, only primal, unrestrained cries as she shattered into blinding ecstasy. Gregor followed her with a hoarse grunt, driving himself deep inside her as he flooded her with a rush of liquid heat.

He collapsed onto her, his breath coming in gusts. She reveled in the weight of him, the feel of his cock still lodged in her cunt as it slowly softened. When at last he raised himself from her body, she nearly begged him not to go, but he quickly pulled her into his arms as he pressed his lips to her forehead. Wrapped securely in his strong arms, she slept once again.

Cerra didn’t stir until Gregor cautiously began to extricate himself from the bed. She grumbled and latched onto him, prompting him to laugh quietly.

“I’m coming back,” he said. “I just need to check on navigation.”

“I’ll come with you,” she said.

He brushed his fingers across her cheek. “You need to sleep, love. I’ll be back soon.”

She wanted to protest, but he was already gone. She must have dozed off immediately, because she felt like she had only blinked by the time he returned and crawled back beneath the blankets to hold her.

“Two more hours in hyperspace,” he said as she settled her head on his shoulder. “All the time in the galaxy.”

“We could just drop into realspace now,” she mumbled as she pressed her face against him. “Stay like this forever.”

”I think someone might come looking for us,” he observed.

”We could hang up a sign that says ‘nobody home.’”

“Mmm.” He stroked his hand across her shoulders. “Might get a little hungry.”

“Stop poking holes in my plan,” she said. “Besides, I have something you could eat.”

“You’re insatiable,” he laughed.

“I have two years of celibacy to make up for,” she pointed out. “Maybe not right now, though. I don’t know if I can even walk right now.”

“That’s certainly one way to keep you in my bed,” he said.

She sighed deeply. “I suppose we have to go back to real life eventually.”

He pressed his lips to the top of her head with a quiet, contented sigh. “Not yet, though.”

They lay quietly, Gregor massaging her shoulders gently as Cerra drew tiny patterns on the bare skin of his torso with her fingertips. As tempting as it was to fake her death, kidnap Gregor, and disappear forever into Wild Space to find some lovely, remote moon where nobody would ever find them, Cerra knew that neither of them would ever seriously consider abandoning Rex and the others.

A thought occurred to her suddenly, and she felt a stab of guilt for not asking sooner. “Did anyone ever find out what happened to Nax?”

Gregor shook his head. “We looked for him, but we couldn’t find a trace. Rex put out the word to his network, but we haven’t heard anything yet. We’ll keep looking.”

“Even Echo couldn’t find anything?” she asked.

Gregor started to speak, then stopped.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Echo is gone,” he said.

Cerra’s heart lurched to a halt. Her mouth went dry, and her throat constricted suddenly.

“Wh-what?” she stammered. “How? When? Why didn’t you say something before?”

“Not like that!” he exclaimed. “He went back to the Batch. Oh, gods, Cerra, breathe!”

Relief flooded her, and she slapped his shoulder irritably. “Don’t scare me like that! I thought you meant—I thought—”

“He’s all right, Cerra,” Gregor soothed. “Big breath in.”

She inhaled obediently, held it for a few seconds, and then exhaled.

”Are you all right?” he asked.

She nodded, inhaling and exhaling at a slow, deliberate pace. “How long was I gone?”

He hesitated.

“How long?” she demanded.

“Over two weeks,” he admitted. “It took time to find you. We didn’t even know who’d taken you. By the time Rex’s contact—”

“Wolffe,” she interrupted.

“Eh?” Gregor looked startled.

“Rex’s inside man is Commander Wolffe,” she said. “I’m lucky he was able to get to me before Yularen’s pet sadist finished what he started.”

Gregor’s expression darkened. “Are you sure he’s dead?”

”Pretty kriffin’ sure,” she replied.

”Too bad. I’d have liked to tear him apart myself.”

She laughed quietly. “So bloodthirsty.”

”When the occasion calls for it.”

“You would have approved of the way I handled it, then. So much blood.” She shuddered. “Gross. I hope he didn’t give me anything nasty.”

”We’ll run a scan when we get back to the garage,” he said. “Pretty sure the senator can get us just about any meds we need.”

“Must be nice to have unlimited funds.”

Gregor hummed noncommittally, a pensive expression on his face. “There’s something I need to tell you, Cerra.”

Icy fear skittered down her spine at his somber tone. “What is it?”

“Echo might not be coming back.”

“What do you mean?” she demanded. “Why not?”

“His mission went bad. His team lost—a lot. Tech and Omega…” he trailed off.

“The kid is dead?” she asked, horrified.

“The Empire took her,” he replied.

“My gods,” she whispered.

“They’re going to get her back,” Gregor said firmly. “They’re not giving up, and neither are we.”

“Rex?” Cerra asked.

“He’s doing everything he can. For now, though, Echo is staying with the Batch. We might not see him for some time.”

“Kriff. Poor Echo,” she said. “What can we do to help?”

“I don’t know yet,” Gregor said, “but we’ll figure it out.”

“How?” she asked, feeling a wave of helplessness wash over her at the magnitude of their fight.

“The same way we always do,” Gregor said. “Together.”

The hectic swirl of Coruscant’s traffic was not nearly as relaxing to watch when Cerra was stuck in it. The airspeeder headlights were blinding; the crowded lanes were barely controlled chaos. Her brain—still in a haze of sex and exhaustion and stress and adrenaline—struggled to make sense of it all, and she was glad Gregor had offered to pilot the freighter.

It seemed to take hours before they made it through the frenzied upper level congestion and descended through the underworld portal. Level 1313 had many advantages, particularly for a group that relied on secrecy, but it undeniably had disadvantages, and one of them was the long kriffing commute. 

“How am I supposed to rebel, resist, revolt under these conditions?” Cerra grumbled.

At last, the freighter docked on the landing platform, and Cerra hurried down the ramp. The garage seemed strangely full, though that might have been due to the way Fireball barrelled into her, pulling her into a crushing hug as Nemec and Rex crowded close, impatiently awaiting their turns. She buried her face against Fireball’s neck, and as she pulled away, she noticed a change.

“What’s this?” she asked, ruffling her fingers through his baby-pink hair that was noticeably longer than when she'd left.

“Nemec helped me dye it when we found out you were coming back,” Fireball grinned. “What do you think?”

“I think it suits you, just the way I said it would,” she laughed. “Pink is your color. Are you growing it out?”

He nodded. “Thought it might be a good idea to try to blend a little better.”

She laughed. “The pink will definitely help with that.”

“It’s temporary!” he exclaimed indignantly as he walked her to the bottom of the ramp, where Nemec clasped her forearm and gave her a quick hug, before she turned to Rex.

“Hey, Cap,” she said quietly.

He smiled as he pressed his forehead against hers, holding the back of her head gently. “You look like hell.”

“Should have seen her before the bacta,” Gregor said as he joined them. 

“Barely knew it was me, right, Gregor?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I’ll know you forever.”

Rex glanced at him sharply, but Gregor merely shrugged and wandered over to the kitchenette, where he started to brew a cup of caf. Rex introduced Cerra to Howzer and his men, and by the time she’d learned their names, Gregor rejoined the group, brushing his thumb lightly over Cerra’s fingers as he handed her the mug.

She took a sip and let out an audible groan of pleasure. “How do you always make the best caf?”

“Not tellin’,” he grinned.

“Suit yourself,” she said flippantly. “You’re just volunteering to be my caf dealer for the rest of my life.”

“If you insist,” he replied with a giggle.

Cerra yawned. “Gods, I can’t wait to take a shower and then sleep for about ten years.”

Gregor drew a breath to reply, but before he could speak, another voice called out from the garage entrance, “Might want to hold off on that.”

Cerra turned to see a clone strolling casually into the shop, and for a moment, she simply stared at him in confusion, until she spotted the distinctive scar on his jaw. Her blaster was in her hand and trained on the clone before she even registered the pain of hot caf as it sloshed from the mug and burned her hand. She didn’t flinch, though, and her eyes were hard and icy as she glared at him.

“What the kriff are you doing here?” she demanded.

---

A/N: The Mando'a phrase meaning “I love you” is Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum: literally “I hold you in my heart forever,” usually translated as “I will know you forever.”

Next chapter

[dystopicjumpsuit]

Stars Beyond Number - Chapter 11

Between the Motion and the Act

Rating: M - Minors DNI

Pairings: Echo x Riyo Chuchi; Gregor x OFC Cerra Kilian

Wordcount: 4.2k

Warnings and tags: fluff; a sneaky OT reference (literally wrote a whole scene just so I could make that joke); some angst; SMUT; oral sex; Echo x Riyo is GO!!!

Suggested Listening:

Summary: The team plans for Balmorra; Echo commences diplomatic negotiations with the senator from Pantora.

A/N: This story shares continuity with Martyrs and Kings and "Do It Again," but all three fics can be read as stand-alones.

Start here | Previous chapter | Next chapter | Masterlist | Sign up for my tag list | Read on AO3

Between the idea and the reality

Between the motion and the act

Falls the Shadow

—T. S. Eliot, “The Hollow Men”

cerulean-senator: Would you rather fight one rancor-sized tooka or ten tooka-sized rancors?

Echo grinned as he typed a response. 

ur-fav-cyborg:That’s easy. I’ve already encountered a rancor-sized rancor, so I know the secret to defeating them. They’re hierarchical by nature, so I would rather fight the ten tooka-sized rancors and set them against each other. When they established which one was the alpha, I would challenge it for supremacy. My turn: would you rather eat nothing but dessert for a week, or no dessert for a year?

There was a pause as he waited for Riyo to respond. Rex and Cerra were debating the technical specifications they needed in their ship for the Balmorra mission. Echo and Rex had determined that their best chance of success was to extract Howzer when he was being transported. Rex’s mysterious contact hadn’t known exactly when that would happen, but had said it was inevitable. They’d pored over blueprints of the Gozanti-class cruisers that were being used as prisoner transports as they’d formulated a battle plan.

“What about a leech vessel?” Cerra asked. “Two points of entry.”

“That… could work,” Echo said. “Dock with the main vessel as a diversion, and then breach the hull with the leech.”

“We’d have to divide our forces,” Rex said.

“The pilot would have to stay with the ship anyway,” Echo pointed out. “Gregor can keep their troops occupied at the docking port while the extraction team boards from the leech.”

“Flank ‘em and spank ‘em,” Cerra said, tapping her beer bottle against Rex’s.

“Always so eloquent,” Rex teased as he took a swig.

“I learned from the best, and he learned from you,” she said with a grin. “You’re like my tactical granddaddy.”

“I thought you said I was a youngling,” Rex said.

“Granddaddy is a state of mind,” Cerra shrugged.

She slouched on the sofa with her boot-clad feet propped on the holotable, and Echo had the brief, tangential thought that Tech would have an aneurysm if he could witness it. 

His comm chirped, and he checked the message immediately. 

cerulean-senator: Wait, when did you fight a rancor? That sounds like a story worth hearing.

ur-fav-cyborg: I’ll tell you all about it next time I see you. Now quit stalling and answer the question, Riyo.

The reply was immediate and indignant. 

cerulean-senator: I wasn’t stalling! I was thinking. I do like dessert, but a week of nothing but sugar might put me in a coma. I’ll have to say I’d rather go a year without desserts. Would you rather kiss a Gungan or a Wookiee?

ur-fav-cyborg: That depends. Are we talking a mouth kiss, or just a quick peck on the cheek?

cerulean-senator: Full-on mouth kiss, with tongue.

ur-fav-cyborg: In that case, I’d rather kiss a Pantoran.

cerulean-senator: You’re not going to charm your way out of answering the question, trooper.

ur-fav-cyborg: Worth a shot. Fine. Assuming consent from all parties involved, and given the knowledge that Gungan tongues are nearly a meter in length—which would present a high probability of death by choking—and considering that I’ve met some very nice Wookiees who almost certainly wouldn’t rip off my one remaining arm, I would rather kiss a Wookiee. But only if the Pantoran is unavailable.

“Care to share the joke, Echo?” Rex asked.

“Sorry, sir,” Echo said, stashing his commlink away.

“You know, we’re not in the GAR any more,” Cerra said. “He’s allowed to check his comm in meetings.”

Echo glanced quickly at Cerra, surprised that she had defended him. Rex sighed, and Echo immediately felt guilty.

“You're right,” Rex admitted. “Old habits are hard to break, but what are we fighting for if not the right to live our lives as we choose?”

Echo wasn’t sure what to say. Freedom was a complex thing to navigate when he’d been trained his entire life to follow orders. It was different with the Batch; they had always had a more relaxed dynamic, and all the members were accustomed to speaking their minds freely, even if the ultimate command decision defaulted to Hunter. But this was Rex, who’d saved Echo’s life more times than he could count, who’d been his longest-standing commanding officer, who’d hand picked him to join the 501st, who’d recommended him for ARC training, who’d believed in him against all odds, who’d fought to bring him back from Skako Minor when everyone else had written him off. Every instinct Echo possessed screamed for him to obey the captain.

Suddenly, he recalled something he’d overheard Cerra tell Rex. “He trusts you so much that he’ll do whatever you order.” Gregor had said something similar when he confronted Rex after the disastrous mission to 79’s. There was something about Rex that inspired absolute loyalty in his soldiers. The problem was, they weren’t just soldiers any more. Perhaps Riyo was right, and they had always been more than that.

Cerra stood and stretched. “I don’t know about you boys, but I could use some food.”

“Good luck finding anything,” Rex said as she dug through the kitchen cabinets. “I cleared out the conservator last night.”

“We have ration bars,” Cerra said. “I can’t wait ‘til Gregor gets back so we can eat some decent food again. Want anything, Echo?”

“I could eat,” Echo admitted. “Are we finished here?”

“I’ve got what I need to start looking for a ship,” Cerra said. “Rex?”

“We’ve done as much as we can with our current intel,” Rex replied.

Cerra tossed them each a ration bar, and when Echo’s comm chirped again, he checked it, careful to maintain a neutral expression.

cerulean-senator: Solid reasoning all around, but now I have blackmail material in the form of written proof that you want to kiss a Wookiee. 

ur-fav-cyborg: Only under duress. Now it’s my turn: would you rather be too hot or too cold?

cerulean-senator: That’s easy! I would rather be too cold. You can do all sorts of fun things to warm up.

ur-fav-cyborg: Such as?

cerulean-senator: Drinking caf, wearing cozy sweaters, snuggling in front of a fireplace—and other things.

ur-fav-cyborg: What kinds of other things?

cerulean-senator: That’s for me to know and you to find out. My turn: would you rather have dinner with me or breakfast with me?”

ur-fav-cyborg: Both.

cerulean-senator: Great! When is a good day for you?

Echo choked on his ration bar and dropped his comlink. It skittered across the floor and came to rest against Rex’s boot. The captain arched one eyebrow and handed the comlink back to Echo without a word. Echo took it and sent a quick response.

ur-fav-cyborg: After the next mission?

cerulean-senator: Sounds perfect. I’ll meet you there and we’ll see where the night takes us.

Echo smiled and tucked his comlink away. Turning to Cerra, he asked, “Is your hand healed enough to spar?”

She nodded. “I’ve been wanting to practice those moves you showed me. Would you rather be my partner or my coach?”

“I’ll coach if Rex will partner with you,” Echo said. “Sparring is a little tricky with my prosthetics.”

“Rex?” Cerra asked.

“Only if you go easy on me,” Rex replied. “Remember, I’m a grandfather.”

Cerra snorted. “Sure, grandpa. When I fail to land a single hit on you, it’ll be because I’m going easy on an old man.”

Despite her self-deprecation, Echo found that Cerra was a decently competent fighter. It was true that she was far outmatched by Rex, but most opponents she was likely to face would not be genetically engineered supersoldiers with years of combat experience. She had good form and technique, and she took direction well. With a blaster and a few modifications to her armor, Echo suspected that she would be able to hold her own against a wide range of adversaries.

Just as Echo was contemplating the best armor mods to augment Cerra’s reach and upper body strength, Rex took her to the ground and pinned her. She tapped out immediately, contradicting Rex’s claim that she didn’t know how to back down from a fight. Rex stood and pulled her to her feet.

“Again,” Echo ordered. “And Cerra, remember what I showed you.”

She nodded and snapped into a fighting stance at once. Rex tested her defenses a few times, light punches to see how well she could block. He moved with rigid control, never taking it too far and risking hurting her. It was very different from the way Echo had been trained. ARC trooper training had been brutal and no-holds-barred. There was a very good reason that so few clones successfully passed, and that was that the training was extreme even by the Kaminoans’ standards. A nat-born wouldn’t just fail; they would very likely be killed or permanently debilitated.

“Attack, Cerra,” Echo ordered. “You can’t just dance around him all day.”

She hesitated, and Rex saw his opening. His fist darted past her block and tapped her jaw. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt, just to get her attention. She tightened her stance and returned the hit, albeit too slowly. Rex blocked her effortlessly.

“Like I showed you, Cerra,” Echo said. “Do it.”

“I don’t want to hurt him,” she panted.

Rex smirked. “You won’t.”

“That’s not Rex,” Echo snapped sternly. “That’s an enemy. Take him down, now. He’s going to hurt you. He’s going to hurt Tup.”

Cerra gasped and dropped her fists. Rex struck just as Cerra turned, his blow connecting much harder than he’d intended. Cerra staggered backward.

“Kark!” Rex exclaimed. “Are you all right?”

Cerra’s large, wounded eyes weren’t looking at Rex, though. She stared at Echo instead. A trickle of blood dripped from her lip, but she didn’t seem to notice.

“How do you know that name?” she asked, her voice shaken.

“You called Fireball Tup the other night,” Echo said, taken aback. “I thought it was a friend of yours.”

Cerra spun and stalked out of the sparring ring, not stopping until the barracks door slid closed behind her. Echo turned to Rex, whose mouth was set in a grim line.

“Tup was Fives’s best friend after Umbara,” Rex said quietly. “The three of them were more than close. They were inseparable. Cerra thought of Tup as her little brother, and he was the first she lost. And a few days later, she lost Fives, too.”

“Kriff,” Echo breathed. “I had no idea.”

“She keeps to herself,” Rex said. “Probably more than she should.”

“Why?” Echo asked bluntly.

Rex sighed. “Cerra is a soldier, but she’s not like us clones. We’ve always had each other, even when we didn’t have anyone else. But Cerra’s family turned on her when she needed them most. It’s not easy for her to trust.”

“I thought she told Gregor everything,” Echo said.

“She doesn’t even tell me everything,” Rex replied enigmatically.

Echo remembered now that even Gregor had not recognized Tup’s name the night that Cerra mistakenly called Fireball by it. 

“Kriff,” he said again. “I need to apologize.”

“Better give her some space,” Rex counseled. “If I know Cerra, she’d rather just pretend none of this happened. She’ll be all right.”

“That doesn’t seem like the healthiest way of dealing with it,” Echo said.

“Do you want to be the one who tells her that?” Rex asked.

“Fair point,” Echo acknowledged. “Maybe I’ll take the speeder bike and get some air.”

Echo strode out of the garage and hopped onto the speeder bike, riding without paying much attention to where he was going. He avoided the Federal District, and after a while, he piloted the bike to the top of a ramshackle skyscraper. Maybe sometime long ago it had been a beautiful and prestigious edifice like 500 Republica, but now it was crumbling. Still, it had an expansive view of the city and the setting sun, and he parked the speeder on the roof after a quick recon determined it to be abandoned.

He stared out across the city of trillions, hating how alone he felt. He couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to Fives’s death than Rex had told him. They were soldiers. Cerra was a soldier. They were accustomed to losing people—it hurt like hell, but they knew the risks. What had happened to carve that deep well of pain in Cerra’s eyes? What was Rex not telling him? On impulse, he holocommed Riyo.

“Hello, Echo,” she said with a smile. “This is a nice surprise.”

“Is this a good time?”

“Yes,” she said. “I’m done with work for the day, and I’ve just finished eating dinner. I’m all yours for as long as you want me. Is everything all right?”

Kriff, she was pretty. Her full lips curved in an alluring smile, and the sparkle in her golden eyes was visible even through the shaky hologram.

“Yes,” he said. “Everything is fine. I just wanted to see you.”

“I didn’t think you got many opportunities to be alone,” she said.

“I don’t, but I needed some air. Cerra and Rex are back at the garage.”

“And where are you?” she asked.

“I’m not sure,” he frowned. “On top of some abandoned building in a part of the city where I would never bring you.”

“Is that safe?” she asked, concerned.

“I’m not worried,” he said.

“I’m a little worried,” she said. “Why don’t you come to my flat?”

Echo was startled. “Are you sure?”

“There’s a private landing platform that accesses my suite at the Pantoran embassy. I’m sending the coordinates and access code now.”

“In that case, I’ll see you soon,” he said.

Riyo paced in her suite, unaccountably nervous. It was strange; she could easily give a speech to tens of thousands of senators and dignitaries, but as she checked and rechecked her reflection to make sure her hair wasn’t doing anything strange and she didn’t have anything stuck in her teeth, her body filled with jittery energy. She smoothed her hands over her blouse, trying to brush away some of the wrinkles it had accumulated after a long day of committee sessions and meetings with constituents.

The door chimed. Not the main door; the private entrance at the back of her suite. A quick glance at the security holocams revealed Echo, helmeted and in full armor. Riyo’s heart lodged in her throat as she hurried to admit him. The door slid open, and Echo removed his helmet. 

“Hello,” she said, feeling suddenly shy.

“Ma’am,” he said with a formal nod, and she realized this was just as awkward for him. Somehow, that eased her nerves.

“Please come in,” she said. 

He glanced quickly around the room as he entered, and she wondered if he was looking for threats. It must be practically instinctive for him by now. His eyes came to rest on her, and he gave her a small, gentle smile that sent warmth tingling through her.

“Thank you for the invitation,” he said.

“Of—of course!” she stammered. “You seemed like you might need to talk to a friend.”

“Is that what we are?” he asked. “Friends?”

“I hope so,” she said.

“I hope so, too,” he replied. “But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t hope we could also be more. Is that something you want?”

There was something refreshing about his directness, accustomed as she was to the doublespeak and prevarication of her fellow politicians. 

“I think you know the answer,” she said.

“I need to hear you say it,” he replied, taking a step closer to her. 

Oh, stars, he smells amazing.

“Yes,” she whispered.

He raised his hand to her face, trailing his fingers along her jaw, brushing his thumb over her lips. She swallowed thickly as her breath became shallow and fast. She closed the space between them, tilting her head back to meet his gaze.

“You have the most beautiful eyes,” she said softly.

He slid his hand to the back of her head, fingers threading into her hair, and then he kissed her. His lips were soft and warm, and Riyo let out a quiet, involuntary moan as his tongue brushed against hers. She felt as though she were drowning in him—his taste, his scent, his touch. When their lips parted, she gradually became aware that her arms had wrapped around him, seemingly of their own volition, as she had explored his armored body with her hands. He was holding her, too, his prosthetic arm wrapped firmly around her waist, and he traced a path down her throat with his thumb.

His gaze roamed over her, taking in the way her lips parted and her breasts rose and fell with each quick breath, the way her wide eyes gave away too many of her thoughts, and she felt vulnerable, exposed, as though he had laid bare her entire soul. Look away, her mind begged. Don’t let him see. It’s too soon for you to feel this way. What if he thinks you’re a pathetic little girl with a silly crush? He could destroy you, grind your heart beneath his heel and leave you a mangled, bloody mess.

But somehow, as she looked deeply into his eyes, she knew that he would never, ever do that. That he would carry her heart as carefully and securely as he did his own. And so, she traced her hands lightly down his chest plate until she reached the belt that held up his heavy kama and unbuckled it with a deft movement. Next, she slipped her fingers beneath the shoulder straps of his cuirass until she found the clips that held the two pieces together, and one by one, she teased them open. She removed the plates carefully, setting them aside, and then stroked her palms down his chest and abdomen, feeling the firm, wiry muscles beneath the dark red fabric of his jacket.

He watched her with undisguised hunger, and when she stood on her tiptoes to lick the bit of exposed skin at the top of his neck, he snapped, pulling her body tightly against his and crushing his lips to hers in a ravenous kiss. He walked her backward until she pressed against the wall, and when he rocked his hips against her, she could feel the rigid length of his cock through their clothing.

“Oh, stars,” she panted, breaking away from his lips. But he didn’t end the kiss; he worked his mouth across her jaw and down her throat, licking and biting and sucking gently on her skin, and the sounds she made would have embarrassed her if she hadn’t been so aroused. “Don’t stop, Echo, please don’t stop.”

She felt his hand cup her breast and dimly wondered when he’d unbuttoned and slipped her blouse off her arms, but it didn’t matter, because he was making his way down her chest with that incredible, talented mouth of his, and then he was kneeling in front of her, and when he sucked her nipple into his mouth, her legs nearly gave out. She tugged at his pauldrons until they clattered to the floor, and then she felt the waistband of her trousers loosen and the fabric slide down her hips, leaving her utterly exposed.

Echo paused long enough to bite down on the fingertip of his glove and yank it off, and then Riyo felt the smooth, glorious slide of his skin against hers as he grasped her inner thigh and glided his hand upwards. She cradled his head in her hands as he sucked on her breasts, and when his fingertips brushed over her sex and felt her slippery arousal, he groaned against her.

“Fuck, Riyo,” he said, sitting back on his heels to take in the sight of her. “Look how beautiful you are. So, so kriffing beautiful.”

He leaned forward until he was nearly pressed against her, but before he touched her, he raised his eyes to her face.

“Is this all right?” he asked, his honey-gold eyes wide and serious.

“Yes, please yes,” she said. “Please, Echo, I need you to—oohh—”

Her brain skidded to a halt and took her power of speech with it as Echo slid his tongue into her, latching his lips over her cunt.

“Fuck!” she gasped, her voice barely a breath. “Gods, fuck, I can’t—”

He dropped lower and leaned forward, stroking his scomplink up the inside of her calf and encouraging her to drape her leg over him. His height made it a little difficult for her to reach, but once Riyo rested her thigh on his shoulder, he moved in between her legs, his tongue diving deep inside her as his thumb traced firm circles around her clit, not pressing directly on the sensitive flesh, but finding the perfect rhythm to drive all the thoughts from her head. Quiet grunts of pleasure escaped him, as though he had never tasted anything so delicious in his life.

Riyo was less controlled than Echo. She tried to keep her voice down so as not to draw the attention of the guards outside the doors of her suite, but she couldn’t suppress her whimpers and gasps as Echo devoured her like a man starved. Her leg trembled as pleasure swirled tightly through her body. Echo flattened his palm against her belly and slid up her body to cup her breast, squeezing gently and rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He gazed worshipfully up at her from between her thighs, and she locked eyes with him as the pressure in her abdomen finally snapped and sent her hurtling into ecstasy.

Her body crumpled, but Echo caught her, clamping his hand firmly over her mouth to muffle her cries, even as he wrecked her over and over with his mouth. At last, when he had wrung every last shuddering drop of pleasure out of her body, he lowered her onto his lap and wrapped her comfortingly in his arms, stroking his hand gently across her skin.

“That’s it, love,” he whispered in her ear. “That’s my lovely girl. You look so beautiful like this. You make such pretty sounds when you come. I hated to stop you. I wanted to hear every little moan and gasp and scream. Next time, love.”

Riyo shook her head. “Bedroom,” she gasped. “Soundproof.”

Echo smiled. “Lead the way.”

Cerra didn’t look up when the barracks door opened. The mattress shifted as Rex sat next to her on the bunk. He leaned close to peer at the holo she held.

“Was that at 79’s?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said.

In the picture, Tup’s long hair tumbled around his shoulders as Cerra hugged him close. They were both laughing uproariously as Fives made a crude gesture at the holocam. She remembered the night with crystal clarity, even though they’d all just done a round of shots with Jesse and Kix when Kix snapped the holo. Jesse had been teasing Tup about his non-regulation hair and had threatened to shave it off next time Tup fell asleep.

“Never!” Cerra had exclaimed, shrieking with laughter as she wrapped her arms around Tup’s head. “I’ll protect you, Tup!”

“Kix took this about five minutes before we all got bounced for being too loud,” Cerra said. “I’m honestly surprised we didn’t end up in the Corrie drunk tank.”

Rex cupped Cerra’s chin in his hand and tilted her face toward him. “Do you need bacta?”

She shook her head. “I’ll be fine.”

He leaned in to confirm that she wasn’t seriously injured then stroked along her jaw. “You’re going to have a nice bruise. Gregor is going to kick my ass when he finds out how you got it.”

“I’ll tell him I had an argument with the speeder, and the speeder won,” she said. “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve dropped a vehicle on myself.”

“I’m sorry I hit you,” he said.

“No need to apologize, Rex. I know it was an accident.”

“Echo didn’t mean to hurt you, either,” Rex said in a low voice.

“I know,” she said. “It’s fine. I just wasn’t expecting it. I’ll talk to him in a bit.”

“He took the bike out for a spin,” he said. “It’s just us for now.”

“Just like the bad old days,” she said with the faintest flicker of humor. “Maker forbid.”

Rex had slept like the dead for more than half a day, but he still looked exhausted: the kind of bone-deep weariness that could never be cured by a mere few hours of extra rest. She wondered if she looked like that, too. His thigh felt reassuringly warm and solid as it pressed along her leg, and she shifted a little, seeking the comfort of his touch.

His breath ghosted softly across her skin, and she swayed unconsciously closer to him, close enough to see the individual hairs of the stubble on his jaw, close enough to smell the soap they all shared on his skin. His thumb traced back down her cheek, and when she raised her eyes, his gaze was riveted to her mouth.

“I’m not him, Cerra,” he whispered.

“I know,” she said quietly. “And I’m not her.”

At last, Rex dragged his eyes away from her mouth and shot her a rueful smile. “Quite a pair, aren’t we?”

She tried and failed to return his smile, then closed her eyes as he dropped his forehead to rest against hers.

“Rex?” she asked without opening her eyes.

“Hmm?”

“Do you ever think about giving up?”

“Every day,” he said. “You?”

“Every day.”

“Do you think you will?” he asked.

“Never.”

---

Next chapter

A/N: Want to read about the night from Cerra's hologram? It's from the first half of this one-shot: "Do It Again."

[wild-karrde]

Fandom Friday Weekly Summary:

Thank you so much to everyone that submitted recommendations this week! A comprehensive list of this week’s submissions can be found under the cut! Recommendations are organized by show/media, and any main pairings will be listed after the title.

⭐️ = 18+ content

Fics:

The Clone Wars: ⭐️ Tender Mercy (Kix x f!Reader) by @marierg Blind Date (Commander Cody x gn!Reader) by @vodika-vibes ⭐️ Sweet True Lies (Commander Fox x OC Keeda Ionza) by @sleepingsun501 ⭐️ Dancing with Wolves (Commander Wolffe x f!Reader x OC Sawbones) by @wizardofrozz ⭐️ I Need You (Commander Wolffe x OC Sadhbh M'Lir) by @ulchabhangorm ⭐️ Behave! (Fives x f!Reader) by @rain-on-kamino ⭐️ Tease (Captain Rex x gn!Reader) by @deewithani Eya - Ep. IX: Ca'vod by @galacticgraffiti ⭐️ One Step at a Time by @wild-karrde

The Bad Batch: ⭐️ Vagabonds (Hunter x OC Mad) by @skellymom ⭐️ Stars Beyond Number (Echo x Riyo Chuchi, Gregor x OC Cerra Kilian) by @dystopicjumpsuit ⭐️ New Toys (Wrecker x f!Reader) by @datacream Tech-ology: Vol. II - A Collection of Tech-Centric and Bad Batch Short Stories - Caught in the Crossfire by @apocalyp-tech-a Happy Hatch Day by @eclec-tech How Long Will it Take for You to Learn to Slow Down? by @saturn-sends-hugs

Rebels: ⭐️ One Last Chance (Rebels!Cody x f!Reader) by @wings-and-beskar ⭐️ Near Miss (Captain Rex x f!Reader) by @twistedstitcher27

The Book of Boba Fett: ⭐️ Midnight (Boba Fett x f!Reader) by @samspenandsword

Obi-Wan Kenobi: ⭐️ The Tai Saga (Clone Veteran Tai/Nax x f!Reader) by @imarvelatthestars

Star Wars Sequel Trilogy: Beneath the Stars (Poe Dameron x gn!Reader) by @princessxkenobi

Art:

The Clone Wars: Domino Twins Art by @hauntingacorpse Tup of the 501st by @brother-genitivi Last of the Pack by @frostycatblr-fandom-files ⭐️ Spicy Clones Week - Day 1: Fives by @pinkiemme

Star Wars Original Trilogy: Boba Fett Art by @baufraus

FANDOM FRIDAY IS BACK! START SENDING YOUR FAVORITE FANDOM CREATIONS FROM THIS WEEK IN FOR ME TO QUEUE UP FOR FRIDAY!

The goal of Fandom Friday: provide a place where people can shout-out their favorite creators from the week, whether it’s a piece of fan art that made you smile or a fanfic that moved you. Drop a link to your favorite creations this week into my ask box along with what you loved about it, and I will give them a shout! It doesn’t have to be Star Wars either! If it’s on another website (AO3, Twitter, etc.), please be sure to state that as well.

This happens each week, so don’t feel like you’ve got to get out everything in one week. Just keep track of them throughout the week or send me an ask whenever you find something, and I’ll drop them all on Fridays (or throughout the weekend if I get a lot). You may submit for this week until THURSDAY MORNING (I’m in the Pacific timezone). Anything received after that will roll to the next week. A summary of the weeks’ recs will get added onto this post on Saturday, so check back here for all of the awesome fics and art! And be sure to go give the creations on that list some love (and don’t just share the ask responses I put out).

This week’s submissions will start posting on Friday, September 15.

Rules and additional details under the cut! PLEASE make sure you read the rules before sending something in. If your submission violates any of the rules, I will delete it.

Rules:

Please send submissions to my ask box (sending them all to one place makes wrangling them easier each week). In your ask, please include the creator’s handle, a link to their work/post (if links aren’t working for the ask, please DM me them), and what you loved about it!

Please ensure the link is to the creator’s original post and not your own reblog or repost of their work (if they’re on another platform). The idea is to drive people to visit the creator’s page!

The creation does not have to have been posted this week! It can be something older. Also, don’t worry about whether or not a rec is a repeat from a prior week. Just looking to celebrate things that made an impression on you this week, whether you’ve seen it before or not!

NSFW is alright! Just make sure you note it in the ask so I can flag appropriately! Since I’m including 18+ material, minors may not participate. 18+ posts will be tagged with NSFT/lemon/lemony lemon (trying to cover all my bases).

NO incest, underage, cl*necest, master/padawan (or similar power dynamics), dub-con/non-con/rape. Also, no H*rry Potter. There are a few others that I also won’t share due to my discomfort with them (i.e., R*xsoka), so if you’re not sure, ask. Also, many of you submit multiple works at once, and that’s fine, but if one of those works contains something that violates the rules, I will delete the entire ask, so something to be extra careful about when submitting!

If your rec involves spoilers from a show that’s currently running, please include that info in the ask so I can tag it appropriately (I will normally tag a few different ways, but I always use #<show title> spoilers if you need to filter, for example: Andor spoilers will be tagged #Andor Spoilers). I will stop tagging spoilers two weeks after the show stops airing.

You can submit GIF sets or edits, but please ensure you are submitting from the blog that actually created them. Wanted to add that caution since there’s been a lot of people stealing/reposting GIFs and edits in particular recently. So just be cautious.

Try to avoid commentary in your ask that might make others feel bad (“the only person who knows how to write XXX correctly…”). It’s important to be able to appreciate creators without making others feel bad, so let’s try to keep the commentary complimentary without being off-putting for other creators.

Self recommendations are allowed and encouraged! Shout out your own hard work! You deserve the recognition!

*Rules subject to change so PLEASE make sure you read them before sending something in. If your submission violates any of the rules, I will delete it.

**If you have any questions about any of the rules, don’t hesitate to DM me!In addition to sending me asks, I highly encourage you to go either leave a comment on and/or reblog someone’s work (tag me or use the #Fandom Friday tag if you do!). Let’s get the interaction back up on this website and show the creators that work so hard on their stuff some love!

[dystopicjumpsuit]

Stars Beyond Number - Chapter 12

Prayers to Broken Stone

Rating: M - Minors DNI

Pairings: Echo x Riyo Chuchi; Gregor x OFC Cerra Kilian

Wordcount: 4k

Warnings and tags: lots of fluff; tiny bit of angst; borderline SMUT but mostly just suggestive; a gross situation involving rotten fish; two idiots refusing to acknowledge the truth

Suggested Listening:

Summary: Rex and Echo receive some intel from the Batch; the scouting team returns from Raada; Gregor and Cerra go on a supply run.

A/N: This story shares continuity with Martyrs and Kings and "Do It Again," but all three fics can be read as stand-alones.

Start here | Previous chapter | Next chapter | Masterlist | Sign up for my tag list | Read on AO3

Lips that would kiss form prayers to broken stone.

—T. S. Eliot, “The Hollow Men”

Rex sat alone on the sofa, staring at a datafile on the holoprojector as Echo entered the garage hours later. Cerra was nowhere to be found.

“You see this?” Rex asked.

Echo moved closer and peered at the hologram. “No. What is it?”

“Came in from Tech while you were away.”

Echo checked his comlink and saw that there was indeed a message from Tech. “What’s it about?”

“Seems they had a run-in with the same type of creature that attacked Coruscant early in the war. The empire is,” Rex hesitated before continuing. “... cloning them.”

“What?” Echo asked, incredulous. “What does the Empire want with that thing?”

“Hard to say. That’s why Tech sent it to us—to find out.”

Echo grunted quietly in acknowledgment, staring at the hologram. “Where do we even start?”

“With this file,” Rex said. “I think it’s best to keep this between us until we know more.”

Echo glanced at him in surprise. “You don’t want to tell the rest of the team?”

“Nothing to tell. Yet.”

Echo waited a moment, uncomfortable with the idea of withholding intel from the rest of the team. When Rex showed no sign of continuing, he asked, “And when we do have something to tell?”

“Then we’ll cross that bridge,” Rex replied with finality.

He and Echo reviewed the extensive data that Tech had been able to retrieve, but it was clear that it would take a significant amount of time to analyze it all. They poked at it for a few hours, until a soft sound emanated from inside the barracks. Rex closed the datafile abruptly as the barracks door slid open and Cerra emerged, looking groggy and disheveled, sheet marks crisscrossing her face.

She mumbled an incoherent greeting and headed straight to the refresher. Echo glanced between her and Rex, wondering exactly what the captain was playing at with this secrecy. It didn’t sit well with Echo; he’d grown accustomed to the more open dynamic of the Batch, where intel was freely shared, and every member had a say in the final decision. Still, he was sure Rex had his reasons—even if keeping intel from teammates did remind him uncomfortably of his time in the GAR, when he simply followed orders and hoped that those in command knew what they were doing.

It wasn’t the first time Rex had withheld information from the larger group, Echo mused, recalling their earlier conversation about the rumored secret intelligence network. Rex had mentioned Admiral Yularen, and based on Cerra’s reaction to the name, Echo knew there was a story there. He wondered if she would ever feel comfortable sharing it with him. 

“I don’t know what the Empire is even doing as far out as Raada, but it’s nothing good,” Fireball said.

“It’s remote even by Outer Rim standards,” Gregor added. “Sort of place where nobody goes unless they’re either hiding or out of other options. Hardly any population.” 

“Tell me what you found,” Rex said.

“There’s an Imperial base there, all right,” Gregor said. “Big. Secure. Bit of overkill, if you ask me.”

“I couldn’t even contact Nemec,” Fireball said. “Comms were jammed.”

“They’re still setting up the base,” Gregor said. “That’s our ticket in. Only saw half as many troops as I’d expect for a base of that size.”

“So what, we stow away on a transport ship?” Echo asked. “I don’t know about you, but my armor might stand out a bit.”

“Cerra can work around it,” Gregor said confidently. “She’ll find us some of that junk stormtrooper armor. All we have to do is sneak into the Imperial military headquarters and get onto one of those transports.”

“Is that all?” Fireball asked drily. “While we’re dreaming, can I get a large Blue Milkshake and legal personhood?”

Cerra’s eyes crinkled and she nudged Fireball, shooting him a tiny, amused smirk. He held up his fist, and she bumped hers against it as Rex looked on with a markedly unamused expression.

“It would be easier for just one person to infil HQ,” Echo said. “We could send a team with a ship to Raada to stand by, and our man on the inside will smuggle Nemec out of the base and rendezvous at predetermined coordinates.”

“I’ll go,” Fireball said immediately. “He’s my brother.”

Rex shook his head. “My intel says they’re scanning the identifying number of every clone trooper before they board the transports. Every one of us is either presumed dead or wanted by the Empire. We’d be executed on the spot. It will have to be a nat-born.”

“Agreed,” Cerra said. “Echo, do you think you could slice into the Imperial database and plant fake orders? Every base needs a supply officer.”

“You can’t be serious,” Gregor objected. “After what happened at 79’s?”

“Rex is right. It has to be a nat-born,” Cerra said.

“Then send Rafa!” Gregor said. “Or one of Chuchi’s guards.”

“Not a lot of Pantorans in the Imperial army,” Echo said.

“It needs to be someone familiar with military protocol,” Rex added. “Rafa would get arrested before she ever made it through HQ security.”

“It has to be me, Gregor,” Cerra said quietly.

“I don’t like it,” Gregor growled.

“You don’t have to like it,” Rex said. “It’s not your call to make.”

“It’s not yours, either,” Gregor retorted.

“It’s my call, and I’m doing it,” Cerra said firmly.

As it turned out, they had more than a week to plan the mission, which felt unfathomably luxurious. While Rex waited for his contact to confirm the schedule, he, Echo, and Fireball went to investigate a lead on a possible ship for the Balmorra mission. In the meantime, Cerra had a secret weapon to coax Gregor out of his sullen mood: a grocery run, his absolute favorite kind of mission.

Coruscant was a planet of many wonders. Home to trillions of beings, it was a vibrant hub of culture, and where there was culture, there was food. In the galactic capital, one could find any kind of food imaginable, and Gregor had a vivid imagination. Cerra would have been happy enough with whatever bland ration bars she could find in CoCo Town, but Gregor had eaten enough industrial food to last him for a lifetime, and now that he had the freedom to eat whatever he wanted, he refused to settle for rations unless it was an actual emergency—and even then, it was subject to debate.

To find the sorts of ingredients he required, he and Cerra had to venture to the upper levels, to one of Coruscant’s vast, sprawling open-air markets. There, vendors from across the galaxy offered up a dazzling array of wares: everything from fresh produce, meat, and fish, to baked goods and confectionery, to hand-made soaps and candles, to antiques and artwork, to an entire market district dedicated exclusively to cut flowers. 

During the war, Gregor had heard about the market but never been allowed inside. The first time he’d visited, he could hardly believe such a thing existed in the same galaxy as Abafar. The opulence and abundance of the market contrasted starkly with the impoverished, hardscrabble planet where he’d spent so many months with no memories or identity. He’d learned to cook from Borkus, and he once told Cerra that as far as he was concerned, that was the only good thing that had ever happened on that Maker-forsaken rock.

Now, as he wandered through the market with Cerra’s fingers laced between his own, he made no attempt to disguise his wonder and delight at the bustling, colorful surroundings. The heady scents of roasting peppers, fried food, pungent spices, and hot sugar permeated the air, making his stomach rumble.

“We should get a snack first,” he said.

“Yes, please!” Cerra agreed. “Otherwise, I’ll just buy everything in the market.”

They found a food stall that sold griddled ronto wrappers stuffed with traladon cheese and a variety of meat and vegetable fillings. The cheese was melty and stringy; and the flatbread was crispy and a little greasy; and on the whole, it was absolutely delicious. They ate as they walked, taking in all of the sights, smells, and sounds of the market. They passed a vendor piping rings of batter into a gigantic vat of hot oil, and Gregor made a note of the location.

“We’re getting some of those on our way home,” he said.

“To share with the boys?” Cerra asked

“Sure, we’ll go with that,” he replied with a wink.

She laughed, and he grinned at her, his earlier surliness forgotten as he draped his arm over her shoulders. They stopped at every stall that offered samples, tasting and testing. 

“Candilin oranges!” a vendor called out. “Get them while they’re fresh! These won’t last longer than a day, folks, so don’t miss out!”

Gregor tugged Cerra toward the stall.

“We can’t afford those, Gregor,” she whispered.

“The samples are free,” he whispered back.

He snagged a small piece of the fruit off of the vendor’s sample tray and sniffed it curiously. 

“Smell,” he told Cerra, holding it close to her face.

She leaned in and inhaled deeply, her eyes fluttering closed. It smelled fresh and bright and zesty, and it reminded her of the sun. “It smells delicious.”

He slid the fruit into her mouth, and she took a bite. Sweet, tangy juice exploded across her tongue, and she made a tiny sound of pleasure as an expression of utter bliss settled on her face. Gregor beamed at her as he popped the rest of the fruit into his own mouth. The vendor, a Nithorn, regarded them with shrewd little eyes.

“Ah, young love,” she squawked. “I’ll give you a special discount for being such an adorable couple.”

Cerra’s eyes snapped open, and she pulled slightly away from Gregor. “Oh, we’re n—”

“Not made of credits,” Gregor cut in hastily. “You know how it is when you’re just starting out.”

Cerra flicked an uncertain glance at him, but she didn’t resist when he pulled her a little closer and wrapped his arm around her waist. The Nithorn nodded sagely.

“Of course, of course,” she said. “But nothing is too good for your girl, am I right? Come on, I’ll cut you a deal.”

“How much?” Cerra asked.

“Fifty credits apiece,” the vendor replied.

Cerra choked. “I’m not saying it’s not worth it, but we don’t have that kind of money.”

“Twenty,” Gregor countered.

The vendor guffawed. “Sorry, kids, but I’m running a business, not a charity. Forty credits.”

“Come on, Gregor,” Cerra urged. “We can find something else.”

“Twenty-two,” Gregor said.

“Are you trying to destroy my livelihood?” the vendor asked. “Thirty, and not a decicred less.”

“Twenty-five,” Gregor replied.

“You are breaking my heart,” said the Nithorn. “Fine, twenty-five. Be sure to eat it today, or it will rot.”

As they walked away with their prize, Cerra said in a low voice, “We don’t have that kind of budget, Gregor. What were you thinking?”

“I’ll make it up somewhere else,” he shrugged. “It was worth it.”

They wandered through the produce stands, selecting an assortment of fruits and vegetables as they caught Gregor’s eye. He spotted a table heaped with round, russet-colored fruits.

“What are these?” he asked the vendor.

“Kavasa,” Cerra replied, recognizing the fruit immediately.

“That’s right,” the Twi’lek vendor said. “Fresh kavasa, straight from Corellia. Just got a huge shipment this morning. I’m selling it for half price, if you’re interested.”

“We’ll take a kilo,” Gregor said.

“Are you sure?” Cerra asked. “Don’t you want to taste it first?”

“Do you like it?” he asked.

“Yes, it was my favorite when I was little,” Cerra admitted. 

“Then we’ll take a kilo,” he repeated.

Gregor found a vendor who sold freeze-dried fruits and vegetables, and he insisted on buying several cartons for their off-world missions. “If we have to eat rations, at least we can buy some that resemble real food.”

Their last stop was the meat market. He’d been wanting to try his hand at cooking brualki brisket since he’d first tasted it at Dex’s Diner. 

“We’re all out of brualki,” the butcher said. He was a burly Devaronian with two broken horns, and his arms bulged with muscles developed over years of breaking down enormous primal cuts. “But I’m sure we can find something that will suit you. Ever tried joopa?”

Gregor was intrigued. “Never heard of it. What’s it like?”

The butcher launched into a detailed sales pitch about the merits of joopa rib roasts, and Gregor asked a number of pointed questions about preparation techniques and flavor profiles as Cerra let her attention wander.

“Our joopa is wild-caught, from a place called Seelos,” the butcher said. “Never been there, myself.”

Cerra didn’t understand a word of the conversation, but one thing she did understand was sticking to a Force-damned budget. “How much per kilo?” 

“Ten credits,” the butcher replied. “It’s about half the price of brualki right now, so you’ll save a decent chunk of creds.”

“I’ll take a five-kilo roast,” Gregor said. 

The bags of groceries were heavy as they headed to the freighter, but Gregor wrangled them with ease. They were nothing compared to the weight of the armor that he normally wore. The market had become even more crowded as the day advanced, and beings of every imaginable species jostled around them. They retraced their route back to the ship, and as they passed through the fishmongers’ market district, disaster struck.

A large, boisterous family of Gabdorins blocked most of the path as the parents haggled with a merchant. Gregor and Cerra squeezed by them single-file. Suddenly, two of the youngest children broke free of the larger group and began chasing each other. Gregor tried to back up, but it was too late. The children ran straight into him, taking him out at the knees. As he fell, he collided with Cerra and knocked her down beneath him. They landed with a splash in a reeking puddle of water and rotting fish. 

“Sorry, mister!” the children shrieked as they ran off to continue their game.

Cerra gagged at the stench, and Gregor quickly scrambled to his feet. By some miracle, he’d managed to keep the grocery bags out of the splash zone, but his clothes were saturated with the putrid liquid, and Cerra’s were even worse.

“What the kriff?” Cerra sputtered.

“Watch your language, lady,” one of the adult Gabdorins snapped.

“Are you serious?” Cerra demanded, incensed.

“Hey, easy,” Gregor intervened. “It was just an accident. Let’s get home so we can get out of these clothes.”

Cerra grumbled mutinously, but nevertheless she followed Gregor as they hurried back to the freighter. Fortunately—if anything about the situation could be considered fortunate—the miasma of rotting fish guts cleared a path through the crowded market, and they made it to the ship in record time.

“In, in, in, in, in,” Cerra chanted, her words blending into each other in her urgency. “Put the groceries in the conservator. I’ll get the ship powered up.”

Gregor hadn’t even finished stowing the perishables by the time they were airborne. Cerra breathed through her mouth, but she couldn’t escape the fetid stench. The flight back to the garage felt like the longest of her life, and from Gregor’s occasional retching sounds, he was suffering just as much as she was. She piloted them down the underworld portal, and as soon as the ship touched down on the landing platform, they stripped out of their garments and ran for the refreshers.

Luckily, nobody else had returned to the garage yet. Cerra got there first and tugged her bra and briefs off before making a beeline for the farthest shower stall. Gregor was right behind her, pulling off his boxers and leaving them in a pile with Cerra’s things, then claiming the second shower stall.

“Uuuuuuuugh, that is the most disgusting thing that has ever happened to me,” Cerra grunted. “Thank the stars I don’t have any hair; otherwise I’d have to shave my head all over again.”

“I’m not so lucky,” he said. “I hope I can get the smell out.”

The refresher began to fill with steam from both showers running at once. Cerra soaped her entire body from head to toe, and still the stench lingered. On the other side of the narrow tile barrier, she could hear vigorous splashing that indicated Gregor was scrubbing himself thoroughly. Cerra let out a low groan of pleasure as she stood under the hot spray. 

“At least it happened at the end of the trip instead of the beginning,” Cerra said.

“Mm-hmm,” Gregor said noncommittally.

“We might have to burn our clothes,” she observed. “I don’t know if the smell will ever go away no matter how many times we clean them.”

“Yeah.” Gregor’s voice was strained.

She shut her shower off and stepped out. Gregor was facing the wall of his shower stall, his back to her as he stood under the water. 

“Ah, kriff, I forgot a towel,” she said. “Do you need one?”

“No!” he said, keeping his back turned to her. “I mean, I’m not quite finished. I think I need to wash my hair again.”

“Okay,” she said, crossing to the bank of lockers where they kept a supply of towels and toiletries. “I’ll leave a clean one for you on the sink.”

“Thanks, Cerra,” he said. “You should go get something to eat. It’s been hours since we had those ronto wraps.”

His tone was brusque, and she hoped he wasn’t still angry about the Raada mission.

“Good idea,” she said. “I need to send the cleaning droid into the freighter anyway.”

She went to the barracks and dressed quickly, then powered up the cleaning droid and programmed it to decontaminate the ship. She lugged the groceries into the kitchenette and began to stow them away just as Gregor exited the refresher and headed for the barracks, wrapped in nothing but a towel. Droplets of water beaded across his broad shoulders and chest, and her gaze slid down his body, just for an instant, before she jerked her eyes away, focusing on finding space to fit the joopa roast in the conservator.

Nothing I haven’t seen before, she thought. Though if she were honest, Gregor was built differently from the other clones, even from the ARC troopers. He was thicker and denser, and she tried not to think about the way those shining droplets had slid down the planes of his—What the hell? This is Gregor! You know, your best friend and the one person you can count on in the galaxy? Stop thinking about his muscles, damn it!

She shoved the roast into the conservator and slammed the door, leaning against it to make sure it sealed. She swallowed. What was wrong with her? First sex dreams, and now this? She must be losing whatever tattered shreds of sanity she still possessed. 

This is all Echo’s fault, she thought irritably. I never even thought about Gregor that way until he put the idea in my head.

She sighed and dug through the bags of groceries until she unearthed the candilin orange and a kavasa fruit. She sliced them with unnecessary violence and arranged them on a plate as Gregor rejoined her.

He was dressed—thank the Maker for small mercies—and he looked far more relaxed than he had in a long while. Now that she thought about it, he had been tense ever since the night they’d gone to 79’s. A wave of guilt washed through her at the realization that she’d caused him that much distress.

“Want to catch up on the Bake Off?” he asked.

“I think we’ve earned it,” she replied. “Don’t tell Fireball we watched it without him, though.”

Gregor flopped down on the sofa and turned on the holotable, and Cerra curled up next to him. As the show’s opening jingle played, she passed him the plate of fruit. He tasted a slice of kavasa experimentally.

“That’s delicious!” he exclaimed. “No wonder it was your favorite.”

She swiped a slice and popped it into her mouth, enjoying the familiar burst of juicy sweetness across her tongue. It tasted like childhood. It tasted like home. She closed her eyes to blink away the tears that pricked behind her eyelids, and when she opened them, Gregor was watching her with a small, satisfied smile. He reached over and tugged her legs onto his lap and balanced the plate on top of her knees as he turned to watch the show.

The show hosts were droning on and on in some ridiculous opening skit about being turned into tookas. Cerra’s attention wandered, and her eyelids grew heavy. Gregor shifted her legs and stood to take the empty plate to the kitchenette, but before he could leave, she snagged his hand and tugged him back down onto the sofa with a sleepy grumble that sounded suspiciously like “No. My Gregor.” 

He laughed quietly and set the plate on the floor, then lay down next to her. It was a tight fit, and she wiggled up against the back of the couch to make room for him. He wrapped his arms around her and began to rub small circles on her back, and within minutes, the pair were asleep.

The room was dark as Cerra floated toward consciousness. She felt wonderfully warm and safe, held securely in a strong embrace, and she closed her eyes again, drifting on the border between slumber and lucidity. Soft, even breaths fanned across the skin of her chest, where a head rested heavily against her. Their legs tangled together, one strong thigh trapped between her own, and she realized two things at once: first, that thigh was pressed against her achingly aroused sex; and second, he was hard as a kriffing rock against her hip.

“Fives,” she breathed.

She tightened her arms around his shoulders, determined to savor every second of their time together, knowing that they would have to wake up and return to their duties all too soon. She flattened her palm against the hard muscles of his upper back, stroking him languidly. Where were they this time? Florrum? Cato Nemoidia? Did it even matter? She pressed her lips against his forehead, inhaling deeply. Something was different about his scent. New soap? She liked it. It smelled comforting, somehow—familiar. 

“Where are we?” she whispered, but his only answer was a soft snore.

She shifted, inadvertently dragging herself along his thigh and moaning quietly at the friction. Fives, responsive even in his sleep, rumbled deep in his chest and rolled his hips, grinding his cock against her. Gods, it had been too long. She’d forgotten how damned big he was. How long had it been this time? Weeks? Months? She couldn’t even remember. The campaigns blurred together, punctuated by those brief, rare occasions when they both had shore leave at the same time. Where are we?

 Kriff, she was tired. Tired of fighting, tired of being away from him. She missed him so much that it poisoned their time together: even now, with him lying safe in her arms, the knowledge that he would be gone again soon weighed heavily on her chest. How long do we have this time? 

Where are we?

Her breathing settled into a regular rhythm, and she drifted back into oblivion. She was deep asleep when the man in her embrace shifted with a quiet, drowsy grumble and then went abruptly rigid. In the darkened garage, illuminated only by the Are you still watching? message on the holoprojector, he carefully disentangled himself from her and pulled away. 

Hours later, Cerra awoke, disoriented and utterly alone.

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