#Tales From the Coruscant Guard | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

s-brant · 10 months

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Anything

Now that the council has been made aware of rumors regarding Anakin and his apprentice’s relationship, they’re put under the microscope of a careful investigation and must avoid rousing suspicion at any cost (or part three to teacher’s pet)

9k (18+)

Warnings: smut, p in v, somnophilia, dub-con due to the circumstance but they’re both very into it, choking, dom anakin, inappropriate relationships, unhealthy attachment issues, and strong language.

The ceremony itself was a quick, intimate affair.

How they pulled it off, neither of them knows, but they set their sights on a planet far away. Where nobody knew them personally or could know they were Jedi without their lightsabers visible. It wasn't a wedding most would've been satisfied with, but they were. It didn't matter that everyone they cared for couldn't know about it, nor did it matter to her that they couldn't exchange rings. What mattered was the fact that it was happening.

Dantooine ended up being the best option for them. On Naboo, he could be recognized by those who met him years ago when he was ordered to guard Padme's life, Coruscant was out of the realm of possibility for obvious reasons, and as easy as it would've been for them to go undetected in Tatooine, Anakin made it clear he had no fondness for his home planet and suggested Dantooine instead.

Using clothes they had from a mission in which they had to pretend not to be Jedi a year or so ago, they concealed their identities and traveled as quickly as they could. And though she tried to refuse given the fact that they didn't have credits of their own, a lovely older woman working for the man who married them insisted Y/N wear the wedding gown that was passed through her family for generations. In the short time they spent with these people, they learned that her daughter passed away long ago, and though the old woman had no living children, she hung onto the dress since it was the one she wore at her wedding.

When asked about their lives, it was surprising how quickly the lies spilled out of them. It was mostly her speaking while Anakin stood beside her, delighting in the way he could touch her and stand near to her without having to fear being caught there. She spun a tale of forbidden love, of her father promising her to another man and her running off with Anakin for the sake of true love, so it wasn't too far from the truth.

"Are you listening?"

The sound of Anakin's voice snaps her out of her memory-induced daze.

They are tucked away in a corner of the library where no one can see or hear them, leaning against the shelves and standing face to face. He asked her to meet him here before he was needed in an emergency council meeting that Obi-Wan warned him of ahead of time. It was supposed to be a surprise. It was supposed to catch Anakin off guard, but his old master couldn't help himself. There would always be a part of him that looked out for Anakin the way an older brother would. The reason for the meeting, he said, had to do with a troubling slew of rumors regarding him and his padawan.

"I'm sorry, I"—she shakes her head as though it'll do anything to clear her thoughts—"I don't understand. Rumors?"

Anakin's eyes move to look past her shoulder, scanning the room both manually and with the Force to ensure nobody has approached the area before focusing back on her. He steps in closer and says what comes next quietly.

"Obi-Wan didn't tell me what the rumors were specifically, but his meaning was clear. Someone knows about it...about us."

Much like it does whenever Anakin takes her out flying with him at the helm of the ship, her stomach drops at this. Before she can even think of what to say, she's already shaking her head in disbelief.

She mutters, "That can't be true. Nobody has even suspected us, let alone caught us."

He has to fight the urge to reach out to comfort her. His hand flexes at his side as he forces himself not to cup her face in it the way he knows soothes her when they're alone together. It's too risky, especially now after Obi-Wan's warning. All he can do is meet her gaze and offer her a phantom touch through the Force. She feels the presence of an invisible hand brushing her cheek and breathes more evenly in response to it.

"You're right, nobody has caught us. We've made sure of that. But someone does suspect us. I don't know how or why, but they do, and with a claim like that, the council has to take it seriously regardless of where it came from or a lack of evidence," Anakin explains. His expression hardens the more he continues to talk about it. "This is a very big deal, Y/N. If they discover the truth—"

She is quick to interrupt him.

"They won't."

There's a long pause after this, and she takes it as her chance to breech the distance between them.

The feeling of the soft pads of her fingertips touching his arm makes him take a step back at first in retreat, but she doesn't allow him to stray far. With one last look over her shoulder, she moves in close to him and throws her arms around his broad shoulders in an embrace. A kiss would be too daring, but a hug doesn't necessarily prove anything. They've hugged before, albeit after near death experiences during the war, so it could be overlooked again. It isn't the smartest move, but it's necessary. Because as soon as their bodies meet, he lets out a heavy sigh.

As relieving as it is, she's quick to pull away after a moment has passed. Her arms remain locked around his shoulders to keep him close, and the arms wrapped around her waist squeeze tighter as though she'll disappear the second he loosens his hold on her.

Those pretty eyes, a more vibrant blue than the oceans on Scarif, darken the longer he looks down at her.

"I meant what I said before," he says softly, calmly. "Nothing will take you from me."

She remembers that day so clearly. He said it with such conviction despite it only being their second time indulging in intimacy together, and she knew he meant it. It was clear in the way he looked at her as he said it, but it's different now. Now, the implication behind it is laced with something predatory and possessive, not a soft-spoken promise in the aftermath of tender lovemaking but rather a threat and promise tied together with a steely-eyed stare.

Her fingertips play with the sandy brown curls at the back of his neck as she nods and murmurs, "I know."

Y/N isn't sure why she hadn't anticipated her presence being requested in the council meeting regarding the rumors of her and Anakin's relationship. Now that she sits in front of all the Jedi masters who make up the council, she can't believe she'd been naive enough to think they would only question her master on the subject and leave her be.

They left the library five minutes apart. First, it was Anakin who left and walked out with a book to make his sudden appearance in the area make sense, then it was her. She counted out the seconds until she was safe to leave. They typically didn't need to take such precautions to avoid rousing suspicion. They had the perfect excuse to spend time together, after all, with him being her master and she his padawan. But now that the nature of their relationship has been put loudly to question, they were better off being safe.

The sun is setting in the distance through the windows of the room, casting everyone in a warm, orange-red light, and she chooses to focus on the beauty of that sunset rather than the nerves that tie her stomach into knots. They've hardly begun, but what has been said is already damning in and of itself.

"This is ridiculous," Anakin says with a straight face, although he is unable to keep the annoyance from shining through in his tone. "Ask everyone we've worked with and they'll tell you that Y/N and I have always maintained a professional working relationship. I care about her as my apprentice the same way Obi-Wan cared for me as his."

Obi-Wan's eyes flutter shut, and a deep sigh escapes from him as he leans back in his chair before opening them again. When they open, it's Anakin they're looking at.

"You forget your place in this meeting. Allow Master Windu to finish speaking, young one."

The inherent condescension present in the choice of words makes Anakin's chest muscles tighten up involuntarily. There are few things that make him as angry as being treated like a child despite being a Jedi Knight with an apprentice and missions of his own. But, he knew deep down, that would always be how Obi-Wan saw him, and he resents him for it underneath it all. In a way, he would always be the reckless and tempestuous boy they discovered on Tatooine all those years ago.

Hidden behind the overflowing fabric of his robes, his hand clenches into a fist with enough force that his fingernails nearly break the skin of his palm.

He has no choice but to keep quiet.

Master Windu watches the interaction carefully, as do the rest of the council, and waits for him to break. He waits for there to be a crack in the facade, for him to look over at her and reveal it all, but he doesn't break.

"As I was saying," he starts, shifting a bit in his seat to look at where she's sat across the room from Anakin, "we got an anonymous report yesterday, but, to be candid, these rumors did not start yesterday. They've existed for a few weeks now, but none of us would've insulted either of you by entertaining them. Not until now."

Her throat is dry, a lump forming at the very back of it, when she asks, "What exactly were we accused of?"

The way she says it is soft and calm, as she always forces herself to be in the presence of her superiors, but Anakin knows her. He can sense the rage bubbling beneath the surface of her skin that begs to be let out, and he's sure the others can too, but they won't mistake it for anything other than anger at whoever accused them. Still, she is told by Master Yoda to calm herself down before they proceed, so she tries her best.

A second passes, then Obi-Wan says as tactfully as possible, "Allegedly, the person who reported this witnessed inappropriate behavior between the two of you outside of the temple recently. At night. We have footage to prove you were, in fact, where they said you were, but none to prove this accusation of inappropriate behavior."

The news settles like a heavy weight in her gut, dragging her down and down until she has no hope of climbing out of this hole they've dug themselves in. They were always careful when they left the temple. Anakin had a keen awareness of where the surveillance cameras were as well as their blind spots, so she knows straight away that the footage they have is nothing more than them walking beside one another.

As if on cue, the footage is projected in the middle of the room.

"None of us are saying we believe these accusations without proof, but the existence of them is concerning nonetheless," Windu says. "Why did you allow your padawan outside of the Temple so late?"

Anakin stammers a little at first, the only sign of his true feelings thus far, before pulling himself together. He holds his head high as he always does and doesn't balk from the intense eye contact with Master Windu.

"It was just a walk. I couldn't sleep, so I planned to go on a walk myself when I ran into her."

"So, you had no reason relating to your duty to be escorting your apprentice into the city at night?"

The retort is fired back at him so quickly, he hardly has the chance to take another breath before opening his mouth to defend himself again. His palm stings from how hard he digs his nails into his skin as he begins to lose his composure little by little.

"Well, not exactly—"

"So, you decided to go for a walk?"

Before Anakin has the chance to respond, Y/N cuts in.

"It was my fault," she says, diverting everyone's attention away from the growing storm behind Anakin's eyes. "He was already outside of the Temple when he spotted me, and when he told me to go back inside, I refused. He stayed with me because he knew I was going to go out by myself if he didn't and wanted to make sure I was safe."

And while it's a perfect defense in comparison to them admitting the truth, it makes Anakin cringe internally all the same because it makes him look weak. It makes him appear as though he has no control over his padawan. Just another reason to deny him the rank of master, he supposes. Another to add to the list of reasons why he's a problem to them.

This admission, still halfway true, causes everyone to pause for a second.

Then, Master Windu sets his attention solely on her, and she knows that what's coming next will not be worded as carefully as what Obi-Wan said. It's never been in Windu's nature to be anything other than honest and straightforward. He has always treated them with respect, but he doesn't harbor the same fondness for them that Obi-Wan does.

"I have to ask you directly, for the sake of addressing the severity of the situation, has Anakin ever acted inappropriately with you?"

She stumbles for a second, drawing out the time between when he asks and when she responds, but it's deliberate. If they're going to accuse her of it, she will make them say it and stew in the discomfort caused by it. Let them be tortured just as equally as she is by this.

":..Meaning?" she questions.

The bluntness with which he speaks next knocks the wind from her chest.

"Has Anakin ever tried to instigate a romantic relationship with you?" he asks it with a stony, unbreakable expression, abandoning any attempts at sugarcoating it. "The report itself said he was kissing you"—the discomfort of everyone else is palpable in the air—"and...touching you. They alleged that it happened in a dark area, so they didn't recognize you were Jedi until they came closer. As your master, if this rumor were true, it would be an abuse of his power. To take advantage of a padawan..." He trails off into silence for a second before taking a deep breath to steady himself. "He could never be trusted again."

She doesn't even dare to chance a glance over at where Anakin sits with his face hardened into a mask of neutrality, refusing to give them anything to use against him.

Obi-Wan, in a much gentler way, says, "I know you both well, so believe me when I say I don't believe this to be true, but we must take these accusations seriously. Not only would it be an abuse of power, but forming such attachments is not the Jedi way."

This time, she scans her eyes across the room as though she's looking for all of their reactions, but all she's truly looking for is him. And the small glimpse she gets of him makes her heart ache. He is completely shutting down. His eyes are fixed ahead of him at the middle of the floor, refusing to stray and meet hers. It's all he can do to keep himself under control.

Windu then says again, "Y/N, I need your honest answer. It needs to be shown on record that you both deny these claims."

Without missing a beat, she speaks.

"He has been nothing but respectful and supportive," she says. Instead of looking at it as a lie, she frames it as a performance. She imagines herself as a character on the stage of a theater and plays the part. "Yes, I messed up by sneaking out of the temple, but Anakin never touched me."

In the back of her mind, she sees flashes of their memories together one after the next. His lips smeared against hers, his prosthetic hand clamped around her throat, and his flesh hand slipping beneath the waistband of her pants to feel how wet she got for him. But she fights to keep it under control, to keep the others out of her head as he taught her to.

"So, to answer your question, directly, honestly, and on the record, no. He didn't do anything he was accused of."

For the first time since they've been dragged in here, the members of the council have nothing to throw at them. Without their confession, they have nothing, and she would sooner leave the order than give him up.

Almost in response to this, Anakin looks up from the floor to find her glancing at him. It lasts a mere second, but it strengthens his resolve all the same it reminds him what's at stake.

"Anakin?"

The sound of Master Windu's voice brings his attention away from her. A few seconds pass before he realizes what they're waiting for.

"No. I've never done anything of which I've been accused."

The silence that follows is tense.

Neither of them knows what to do with themselves in the next few moments or so as the council discusses their alleged transgressions as though they aren't in the room with them, but they know not to look at each other. They already got one glimpse already, anything more would be reckless and greedy. After a long back and forth between Obi-Wan and Windu, they seem to come to an agreement.

Master Windu says, "It's settled, then. Y/N, you'll be temporarily removed as Anakin's padawan until we're done talking to witnesses and investigating. In the mean time, Obi-Wan will be your master."

It was a disgrace, an outrage.

Anakin's thoughts became poisonous as he was forced to walk out of the council meeting without sparing a glance at her, watching as Obi-Wan whisked her away to speak to her privately as her new master. Maker, even thinking those words made him grimace. There was something inherently wrong with the notion of her belonging to anyone but him. She was his first, he thought, much like a spoiled child having to share his favorite toy. After all, she was his apprentice, his best friend, his wife. How dare they try to keep them apart?

He could hardly process what Master Yoda was saying to him as they walked a little ways behind Obi-Wan and Y/N. It was something about letting the process of justice unfold without harboring any anger for the situation. It was clear in the way it was said that neither Yoda nor the others fully believed the rumors. They all entertained the possibility of them being true, but no one, except maybe Windu, seemed too suspicious of them.

Unfortunately for him, Master Yoda stuck by his side for longer than he anticipated, so he had no choice but to leave her in the hallway with Obi-Wan. If he lingered to speak with her, it would only fuel the rumors about them. He opted for going back to his room to meditate instead, but every time he closed his eyes, his mind became flooded with thoughts of her. Of the meeting, of the night they snuck out, and who possibly could have recognized them.

She, however, was too preoccupied with Master Kenobi.

He walked alongside her at a leisurely pace, speaking freely with her, "I know how upset this whole thing has made you both, but believe me when I say I tried to tell them it wasn't true."

Whether it be willful ignorance or outright denial, she didn't know, but he was being truthful. Of all the council members, he was the least convinced that these rumors could be true, and that was by their design. They've always been extremely cautious in his presence due to his close relationship with Anakin. Her husband taught her how to control her thoughts, to keep from projecting them and allowing the other Jedi into her head, and she practiced it every time they worked with Obi-Wan.

Y/N refrained from picking at the skin around her nails as she often did when nervous and nodded along to what he said.

"If it had to be anyone but Anakin, I'm glad it was you they chose."

"I actually requested it," he says. Upon seeing the confused look on her face, he adds on, "I know Anakin cares for you. I thought that it may ease his mind to know I'm the one stepping in as your teacher."

She can't help but offer up a slight smile in response to this. It was sweet. How Obi-Wan always looked after him, even when Anakin thought everyone was against him or didn't care about his feelings. His old master would always care about him. Later, if she has the chance to see him, she'll tell him about how Obi-Wan defended them to the rest of the council and made sure she was placed under his command.

"I appreciate that greatly," Y/N says. "And I think Anakin would too. He'd probably benefit from a talk with a friend right about now if you're able."

"I'll talk to him as soon as I can, but they'll be questioning me about the allegations in a few moments, so I can't yet. You have my word, though. I will speak to him."

The thought of Anakin being provided with some form of relief is comforting enough to let her contracted neck and shoulder muscles relax.

"Thank you, master."

He simply bows his head to her and offers his goodbyes before turning back toward the council room. In the distance, she sees Master Yoda waiting for him, and all she can do to stop herself from losing what little composure she has left is breathe deeply as she walks the other way in pursuit of the kitchens. Perhaps a light meal will soothe her nervous stomach.

It's an hour past the curfew set for apprentices to return to their rooms.

She relies on the light of the lamp beside her bed to read the book Anakin gave to her a few years ago. Annotated in the margins by Yoda, Dooku, Qui Gon, Obi-Wan, and Anakin, she finds it helpful to read a page or so before bed each night to settle her mind after the events of the day and bring her focus back onto what's most important. Her duty.

Every time she comes across Anakin's sloping, cursive penmanship, her face lights up with a giddy little smile. The page is worn beneath the fingertip she runs over the spot where he signed his name, as though this book has been carefully handled and passed down from generation to generation. Her night clothes are little more than a thin, plain shift that falls down to her calves, so she doesn't feel too warm with the sheet pulled up over her body as she flips through the pages to read all of Anakin's annotations.

However, the joy she derived from reading his thoughts along the margins is quickly washed away by worry. Worry as she begins to wonder where he is and what he's doing. Have they continued to interrogate him? Hopefully he's been allowed a break from their incessant badgering at some point. Perhaps Obi-Wan has found the time to speak to him privately already.

She's so lost in her thoughts, she doesn't even sense his approaching presence until the door to her room opens without a sound.

Already, she's flipping the sheet off of her body and tossing the book onto the side table to meet him as he crosses through the threshold to her private dorm. But what he sees when he shuts the door behind him isn't a happy, smiling face, it's an angry one, and he's already being chastised before he has the chance to greet her.

"Please, tell me you weren't seen coming here? What if they find you with me? Then everything we did today would be for nothing—"

The last word dies on her mouth with a surprised "hmmpf" sound when he reaches forward to cup the back of her neck and pull her into a fervent kiss.

Her hands shoot out to grasp his arms reflexively as he traps her in his strong embrace, one arm around her waist and his other raised to hold her to him by the back of her neck, and kisses her the way a dying man gasps for air. As soon as their mouths meet, she knows where he's been. The taste lingering on his lips is that of his preferred form of alcohol, and she grimaces at how strong it is for a second before pushing at his arms to break the kiss.

You'd think she struck him. His brows furrow and eyes widen at the rejection.

"Why won't you kiss me?" he asks with a tired exhale, leaning forward and angling his head as though he's going to steal another from her in retribution.

"Because it tastes like you drank the whole bottle," she says with a chuckle and keeps him at bay for now. "Where did you go?"

He lets out a sigh, overdramatic as ever, and allows her to slip out of his grasp now that he knows he won't get any kisses until he answers her. The walk over to the bed is short for him with his long legs. All it takes is a few strides and he's collapsing onto the mattress with huff. The glove is already being ripped off of his cybernetic hand before he conjures a suitable response for her.

"Out."

A scoff escapes her.

"I gathered that."

"I went to a bar."

Her brows furrow at him.

His hands come up to allow him to rub his eyes as he says, "Not that bar, I went to a normal one."

The casual reference to that bar brings a searing heat to her face. "That bar" meaning the one they snuck out to go to the first night they were together, with the secret back rooms he led her into and had his way with her in front of a few of the sex workers lounging there. He felt it necessary to clarify that he would never go to such a place without her present for obvious reasons. The thought alone of her thinking he would do something like that, putting himself into a situation no married man should ever be in, made his heart ache a little.

She allows herself to smile at him just a little, even though he can't see it, and walk over to where he's laying with his legs hanging off the foot of the bed. Feeling the mattress dip beside him with her shifting weight, he drops his hands back down and looks at her. And even when he's drunk, angry, and worried, he still finds it in himself to look at her like that. Like she's more important than the Force itself.

In return, she gives him the same look. It isn't too hard to summon. It comes so naturally when he looks the way he does right now; effortlessly beautiful with his overgrown hair framing his face and looking up at her through his lashes with a pink-flushed face.

"What did they say to you?" she asks softly.

Her fingertips are feathery-light where they touch his hair, brushing it away from his face in a way she knows soothes him. It causes his eyes to shut in appreciation of it, then, once he's fully taken in the moment, he answers.

"Not much." His body starts to shift to allow him to roll onto his stomach, and he wraps his arms around her hips. In this position, he gets to rest his face on her thighs, placing tender kisses along the soft skin. "They repeated the all same questions just worded differently each time. When they finally told me I was free to go, they were bringing in others we worked in close quarters with."

"Did Obi-Wan happen to talk to you?" she asks. This piques his interest straight away. His head pops up from her lap, his arms unwrapping from her waist to help him sit up to face her. "He told me he wanted to speak with you. To let you know that he requested to be my master in your absence because he knows how much you care for me."

In lieu of a response, Anakin starts to lean forward to nudge her face with his. Their noses brush as he captures her lips in a wet kiss, humming in satisfaction at how she instantaneously kisses back without thinking. Call him what you want for it, but he knows the effect he has on her and how to use to for his own gain. Right now, he's using it to redirect her back to what he wants. Which is, of course, to hold and kiss his wife. He doesn't think he's asking for too much.

She murmurs against his mouth, "Why won't you answer my question?"

His breath is hot against her skin when he pulls away to dip his face down into the curve where her shoulder meets her neck. All she feels is a soft pair of lips caressing her skin followed by the sharp hip of his teeth. He finds a way to shake his head through it all, not faltering for a second throughout the process of kissing her neck and nudging her slowly onto her back.

"I don't want to talk about Obi-Wan right now," he whispers.

With his body now laid flush atop hers, hips nudged between her parted thighs, he brushes his lips against hers softly. It's a sweet, gentle kiss. One she hadn't been expecting with how eagerly he was crawling on top of her seconds ago, but no amount of sweetness can make her forget that he's not in his right mind at the moment. So, she lets him kiss her for a few more seconds, giving him the chance to revel in what he so clearly wanted all night while he was out drinking, before looping her fingers through the soft hair on the back of his head to pull his face away from hers.

He winces at the slight pain caused by having his hair pulled, but they both know it's something he enjoys. His lips curve down into a slight frown as he realizes what's happening.

"Why are we stopping?"

She chuckles a little and cards her fingers through the hair she just pulled to soothe his mortally wounded ego.

"Because you're very drunk, and I'm also quite tired so I won't let you do it until you've sobered up."

His brows furrow.

"You won't let me?"

Her head shakes, a coy smile teasing at her mouth, and this causes him to stop as though in consideration for a second before groaning and rolling off of her. He ends up flopping onto his back on the mattress beside her, causing her to laugh a little at his dramatics before scooting closer to him and cuddling up next to his body. Her arm wraps around his slim waist and pulls tight as though she fears he won't remain here if she doesn't.

Sensing this, Anakin turns his head to look at her. His eyes soften the moment they land on her, and he reaches out with his flesh hand to brush his thumb over her lips.

"Sleep," he says quietly. A command, not a request. "I'll be with you. Always."

It takes a lot less time than it usually does for her to fall asleep once she burrowed beneath the sheet and rested her head on his pillow, right beside where his was laid. Part of it is due to him. Not only because his presence is soothing but because he breaks into her mind. She's so used to having him in there that she doesn't notice or care when he encourages her to sleep. For her body to relax far quicker than it usually would due to the soothing presence of his force signature.

For the first hour or so after she goes unconscious, he stays to ensure she doesn't wake. But, then, the boredom gets to him. Not to mention, he reeks of liquor and sweat, so he doesn't see any issue with temporarily leaving her for the sake of freshening up in the bathroom. The spray of the water hitting the floor hardly makes enough noise to reach the door, let alone beyond it into her bedroom, and he keeps checking, using the force to sense if she's still sleeping. By the time he is toweling himself off in front of the bathroom mirror, he no longer feels as impaired as he was when he first arrived.

The substance is still present in his system, yes, but he doesn't feel like everything is fuzzy around the edges anymore. Another hour has passed once he emerges from the bathroom with the towel wrapped low around his hips and his hair damp. What he sees when he lifts the sheet to slip into bed with her, tossing the towel to the floor on his side, halts him for a second.

She must have taken off her thin shift in the time he spent in the bathroom. It isn't uncommon for her to do this, rousing herself to a dazed state of partial consciousness to rip the bedclothes from her body due to the heat causing her to sweat in her sleep.

With the shades pulled shut over their windows to keep the city lights from invading the dark sanctuary of her bedroom, his eyes have adjusted to the darkness enough to see her beside him.

A quick glance at the time projected onto the ceiling in faint red light proves he has been awake far too long, and it's hard for him to not huff in frustration as he rolls onto his side. Facing her...

The curve of her hip juts out in an exaggeration of its usual shape from her laying on her stomach with one of her legs bent up near her side and the other lying flat against the mattress. With the sheet pulled up just enough to cover her ass, looking at her is cruel torment for him. How else is he supposed to react when his wife insists upon sleeping in the nude right beside him? He refuses to feel shame for how his cock stirs to life at the sight of her nearly every night.

Anakin's left hand slides up from his side to grasp the thin sheet between his fingers, gingerly pulling it down until it only covers the lower half of her legs.

At first, his only intention is to touch her. To caress her soft skin, hairless and smooth for the first time in ages now that they're back on Coruscant where she can groom herself, and relish in the fact that she's here with him. There's something so intoxicating about watching her sleep. It occurs to him that that thought, if spoke aloud, would probably creep her out, but it doesn't feel wrong to him. It's nice to see her without worry for once. So much of their time together is spent fearing that someone will catch them, but when she's asleep, she's at peace.

His hand ghosts over the back of her thigh, climbs up the curve of her hip, and keeps going up until he finds her neck. So delicate, so pristine in the way he only finds women can be. Men are so rash, harsh, and unsatisfying to look at to him. Himself included. She, however, is a work of art. Everything about her, from the way her hips sway just so when she walks to how her hair blows around her face in the breeze, is beautiful. He has always preferred them as a sex. After all, everyone he truly cares for, aside from Obi-Wan, has been a woman. His mother, Padme, and, of course, his beloved apprentice and secret wife.

He thinks to himself as he allows his hand to dip down to cup her breast, They make more sense. Everything about them was designed with careful thought. In a way, he envied them. In other ways, he didn't. As his hand grazes down her navel in search of the apex of her thighs, he can't help but stare at her in awe. His fingertips dip into the delicate folds of her cunt. So warm. Soft. Inviting. Begging him to delve further and give her what she desires.

She has done this to him a countless amount of times—woken him up with her mouth around him, sucking hard into the back of her tight throat—so he has no qualms with returning the favor.

It becomes clear to him very quickly that he won't be satisfied with merely touching her. While it is invigorating to see her subconscious response to his touch, her thighs pressing together and trapping his hand there as he rubs her clit, he knows what he truly wants right now.

He wants to take back his ownership of her.

What happened today was nothing short of traumatizing for him. He isn't stupid, he knows what they're trying to do. If he isn't careful, the council will try to take her from him, just like every other woman he's loved has been taken from him. When he was assigned to protect Padme just before the start of the Clone Wars, he lost his mother. Shortly after, he lost Padme too. She refused to be with him in the end, saying she couldn't lie to the senate and the council. He refuses to let the same thing happen with Y/N.

Soon, he begins to feel a wetness seeping out of her. His fingertips dip down to collect it from her hole and spread it over her throbbing bud, rubbing faster. A soft, muffled sound escapes her lips at this, and that's when he loses whatever scrap of patience remained in him.

Anakin slips his hand out from between her thighs to stroke himself a few times. Although he's already hard, he takes it as a chance to spread her slick arousal along his cock to make it easier when he inevitably fucks her. With the stimulation now withdrawn, she begins to fuss a little. It isn't anything like it would be were she awake and aware, but she does writhe ever so slightly in her spot upon the mattress as if instinctually searching for the pleasure that evaded her.

He's careful not to wake her just yet. Since she was so tired, he thinks she should rest for as long as she can before she's woken up by him. So, he's gentle in how he guides her into the easiest position to allow him access. She remains on her side, but he brings her legs up closer to her chest, forcing her back to arch and offer up her soaked pussy to him.

From there on, it's too tempting.

He guides the broad tip, messy with precome, of his cock into her first, waiting a moment to listen to her deep breathing to assess if she's waking before nudging further into her inch by inch. Being inside of her is serenity itself. It's like coming home, and he delights in how responsive her cunt is to him even while she sleeps. Her walls clamp down around the thick girth of him only to relax a second later to allow him in the rest of the way. His mouth drops open in a quiet gasp at how good it feels to bury himself inside of her, pushing and pushing until he bottoms out with his tip nestled close to her cervix.

The hand that isn't devoting it's time to rubbing her clit reaches to cup one of her breasts. It squeezes softly at first, but, as usual, it isn't enough. With the first thrust he makes back into her after he pulls almost all the way out of her, he grasps her breast harder and rolls the nipple between thumb and index finger. Having both of his hands on her—one on her chest and the other anchored between her thighs—gives him better leverage to fuck her how he wants to.

"Feel so good," he murmurs into her bare shoulder, not caring that she cannot hear him say it.

He loses control of himself quite fast. It's all too easy to allow the pace of his thrusts to speed up little by little, but, more importantly, he can't help himself from going harder. He enjoys going slow sometimes, but he never goes easy on her. If he ever did, she would scold him. Most often, she has the control between the two of them when it comes to intimacy, and that's the way he's always preferred it. But now...He finds that he likes having total control over her more than he thought he would.

His lips press gently against the curve of her shoulder to help suppress the load moan that threatens to leave him in response to her squeezing down around him.

The haze of sleep has a strong hold over her still when her eyes begin to flutter open.

At first, she's certain it's a dream. Trapped in the space between consciousness and unconsciousness, her mind has yet to realize that she's slowly but surely coming back to consciousness. Her dreams have always been incredibly vivid, especially when they concern Anakin, so no alarms are raised at the feeling in the pit of her abdomen. It isn't until she feels his teeth graze her skin that she realizes that it isn't happening inside her head.

The light beyond the shut curtains, the only source of light at this late hour, illuminates just enough of her face to allow him the pleasure of watching her react to what's happening. Her brows pinch together, a crease forming in the skin between them, and, then, her eyes open slowly.

Y/N wakes to the overwhelming pleasure of him touching her, kissing her, fucking her—essentially doing anything he can to feel closer to her—and the first thing she thinks to do is reach being her to grab onto him. Her hand lifts from where it laid on the mattress to reach back for him, sliding down the side of his bare, muscled abdomen until it reaches his hip. There, her nails dig into him.

She says, evidently confused, "Ani?"

The second after she says the nickname, a particularly harsh thrust causes her to whine in both pleasure and sensitivity, head tipping back while he finishes sucking a mark onto the back of her shoulder. Even through the fog in her mind, she's thankful that he's only leaving marks behind in places she'll be able to cover. It wouldn't be wise to meet with Obi-Wan tomorrow morning with a love bite visible on the side of her neck.

He pulls his face from her neck to press his cheek against hers, lips pressing a tender kiss to the corner of her mouth.

"I'm not intoxicated," he says as explanation for the euphoric wake-up call. "And when I came out of the shower, I noticed you ripped your clothes off in your sleep..."

This brings a sleepy grin to her face, and she can feel him grinning back at her with his cheek pressed to hers. The fingers toying with his clit continue at that perfect, toe-curling pace that increases the bliss she feels tenfold. That, when combined with how consistently he hits the sweet spot inside of her, is almost too much for her to handle so soon after coming back to consciousness.

"You're acting awfully brave. Aren't you worried I'll have to punish you for it sometime?"

Every word is punctuated with a panting breath as he drives into her harder and faster, her breasts bouncing with the force of it now. The palm he had molded over one of them slides up to grasp the very top of her neck, just beneath the jaw, in a possessive act of claiming.

He shakes his head, pushing hers a little further into the pillow it rests on.

"No," Anakin pants, "no, you won't be punishing me for taking what's mine. You forget that I'm your master."

Knowing how angry it will make him, she says, "Actually, Obi-Wan—"

The hand around her neck squeezes impossibly tight before she can dare to finish the sentence, and his pace becomes nearly brutal in a way it's only been a few times before. After a loss on the battlefield or a man leering at her in front of him. But this is...this is different. She can feel it—his anger, the possessiveness, the jealousy.

A second later, he releases his grip on her neck.

"Take that back," he mutters, seething, and pulls her hair taut from her scalp, eliciting a sound that's a strange mix of a moan and a wince. "Or I won't let you finish. You can do it yourself if you're so quick to betray me."

The mere thought is enough to make her brows pinch together in displeasure, and she starts to shake her head frantically. How cruel of him to wake her like this and threaten not to see it through to the end. Although, it does arouse her even more to think that he's simply using her for his own gratification now that she's "betrayed" him. The tension brewing within her, readying like an asp about to strike, seems to enjoy the notion of that.

And, worried that he'll stop, she cries out, voice breathy and soft, "You own me, master. Just you"—the next rut he makes into her is hard enough for her to gasp—"There's only you, Anakin."

"Yeah?" he asks, turning her face with the hand that choked her a moment ago to force her to meet his gaze.

The eye contact is so intense, she doesn't know what to do with herself when she's pinned beneath him like this. And, of course, everything is heightened by the vitriolic feelings roiling inside of him. He projects them at her without a second thought, letting her in to hear every thought that is practically shouted at her. She can't deny to herself that some of them are quite...disturbing. It's nothing too outrageous, but it's obvious to her that he perceived what happened today as a threat. A threat he will not take lightly.

She nods her head a few times, their noses brushing with the frenetic movement, and he can't help but smirk.

"Good girl," he mutters.

He keeps his lips as close to hers as possible without breaking eye contact with her. The urge to kiss her is heavily outweighed by the power he derives from looking into her eyes as he pounds into her. The whole day, he has felt helpless, mad, and scared, but it's all mended by her. By this moment. Not only due to the physical intimacy, but the emotional as well. He can feel how much she loves him. It's a feeling he wishes he could bottle and keep in his possession forever. He'd get drunk off of her if he could, but he can't, so this is the next best option.

When her eyes flutter shut in appreciation of her impending release, building inside of her like the swell of the sea, he says, "No, I want you to look at me."

Seeing that he holds the power regarding whether or not she'll come, she obeys his command immediately. When her eyes open to find his face so close to hers, the sight of him hits her like a punch to the gut, and that overwhelming feeling of love he felt emanating from her increases tenfold. She takes this time, the few, never-ending seconds before she's pushed over the edge into oblivion, to commit every detail of him to memory. The hair that falls in his face, the healing scar slicing through the outer edge of his eyebrow, and, most importantly to her, those sultry eyes of his.

Even outside of the bedroom, he has a way of looking at her that makes it obvious to anyone who looks too closely that he's undressing her with his eyes, but it's far worse when she's actually undressed and at his mercy. It makes her inevitable peak come on stronger and faster than either of them expected it to, her nails digging into his hip so hard that they break the surface of his skin.

She says breathlessly, looking up at him with wide, teary eyes, "Promise you won't let them keep us apart."

And though he's already reassured her countless times that they'll remain together no matter what, he surges forward through the small gap left between them and kisses her with a hunger that'll never be satisfied. It only lasts a second or so, but it's all she needs to reach her climax.

"I'll do anything," he whispers, kissing her deeply as she begins to tense around him. "Anything."

It's such a powerful, explosive surge of pleasure, she cannot do anything but tense in his arms and surrender herself to it.

The noises she makes are borderline pornographic, and if he weren't so in tune with her, he would probably think she's faking it. But there's no way of faking her body's natural response to him. As he guides his cock in and out of her at a brutal pace, the sound of their bodies colliding and how wet she is filling the room, he feels every spasm and twitch of her around him. There's no avoiding those guttural sounds, the slack-jawed expression on her face, or the tight cunt milking him with every unyielding wave of her climax.

Anakin's mechno-hand squeezes around her neck with just the right amount of force to restrict her gasping breaths and provide himself the amount of control over her as he loses himself in it all. His thrusts turn sloppy the closer he comes to his end, and he buries himself in deep one last time before spilling into her.

His face falls into her neck with a whine, teeth biting down on her shoulder to stifle the sound. Her constant clenching and unclenching helps him ride out his orgasm, and he continues to fuck into her in small, dying thrusts until every spurt of his release is trapped within her.

Y/N goes limp on the mattress beside him.

Her head has fallen back into its original place on the pillow, and all she can hear is him breathing heavily into her neck. Behind her, his chest rises and falls at a rapid rate against her back. The hand that was around her neck has slid down to rest against her stomach, holding her close as he always does in the vulnerable moments following his orgasm. All the excitement and emotion turns him into a clingy, needy little thing.

They lay like this for so long, limbs entangled in the sheets and racing hearts beginning to fall back into a normal rhythm, that she can't tell if it's been five minutes or ten when he finally speaks up. Sometime in between him collapsing onto the bed with her and now, he pulled out of her and repositioned himself against her. Both of his arms are snug around her waist, and his face is no longer buried in her neck but rather right beside hers. His cheek presses against hers as it had when they were in the midst of fucking, savoring the closeness shared between the two of them.

"I love you," he says softly.

It isn't the first time he's said it, but she always gets the same fluttering sensation in her stomach as though it is. As quickly as the anger and jealousy took control of him, turning him into a demanding and domineering lover, he shifts back into his usual nature with her. It's as though his mind goes on autopilot after having sex with her, exposing the true motivators that drove the anger. Insecurity. Fear of abandonment. Worry.

Knowing this, she doesn't hesitate to say it back.

"I love you more."

The feeling of his chest moving against her back with a soft huff of laughter brings a smile to her face.

"Believe me, that's not possible."

She then starts to shift around in place, forcing him to loosen his hold on her for a second or two until she has flipped over to face him. Those strong arms are quick to wrap around her waist and pull her in again, their bodies flush against one another.

"And why is that?" she asks, a teasing lilt in her voice.

He answers it so quickly, so sure, she cannot take it as anything other than honesty.

"I was made for you," Anakin whispers, reaching up to brush her hair away from her face. "There's no purpose for me in this life without our love."

Her brows furrow in concern.

"That's not true. You have purpose regardless of whether or not I'm here."

He shakes his head, just once, and when she cups the side of his face in the palm of her hand, he leans into the touch. The tip of her thumb caresses the scar cutting through his brow, moving down until she brushes his bottom lip.

He says, "I don't want to know what it's like to not have you in my life. It was easier before. I didn't know what was waiting for me. But, it's different now. If I lost you, I'd lose myself."

Her other hand moves to hold the other side of his face, leaving him with no choice but to look into her eyes and hear every word, every thought, and every feeling that passes through her.

"You aren't going to lose me."

The soft look in his eyes transforms into determination at this, and he allows his forehead to rest against hers as he repeats what she said in his mind over and over again to reassure himself.

A/N: It's been a long time, but here's part three! I hope you all enjoyed it.

Tag List: @juniebugg and @riley12.

#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader #star wars fanfiction #fanfiction

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wanderinginksplot · 1 year

Text

Commander Fox + Mercenary!Reader

As a mercenary, you travel in and out of Coruscant a lot. You find it more than a little strange that Commander Fox himself always seems to be on the Coruscant Guard team investigating your transport when you come back planetside...

Commander Fox x gn!reader (platonic-ish, with a hint toward future feelings)

Thanks to @nowait-whathappened for the prompt!

Word Count: 3.4k words

Warnings: mentions of weapons, mentions of bodily injuries, implied lack of trust

Masterlist

---

“Transport 47816, prepare for boarding.”

The groans that echoed through the transport ship were instant and harsh. None of the familiar faces around you held an expression more pleasant than ‘irritation’, but you were well used to this by now.

“Why?” Kann bit out harshly. You tried not to roll your eyes, but it was a close thing. As the Lament’s near-constant pilot, Kann knew exactly why you were being boarded just outside of Coruscant’s airspace, but that didn’t mean he was going to make things easy.

“Transport 47816, you’re returning from a neutral star system. It’s protocol.”

Kann snarled. “Shove the protocol up your-”

“Shut up and let the troopers on the ship,” Skoh ordered. “I don’t have time for you to argue with the whole damn Guard.”

Despite his previous eagerness for a fight, Kann clenched his jaw and nodded. “Dropping shields now.”

Kann was one of the more reckless members of the Lament, but Nakte Skoh was a force to be reckoned with. When the tall Togruta spoke, every one of the mercenaries on the team listened. Disobeying him was a good way to get killed - sometimes by the enemy and sometimes by Skoh himself.

The troopers who boarded the transport were wearing the familiar Coruscant Guard colors. You even recognized a few of the patterns and greeted them with a slight nod. You wouldn’t have minded being a little more exuberant, but not among your coworkers. It would be unwise to show too much emotion surrounded by mercenaries.

“Everyone stand.” Grumbling. “Leave all weapons here. We will be interviewing each of you separately.” More grumbling, even as everyone started to reluctantly comply.

The trooper issuing instructions was none other than the commander of the Coruscant Guard, Commander Fox. You could recognize him by his visored helmet easily enough, but there was something in his voice. What exactly made his tone was hard to pinpoint, but if pressed, you thought you could pick it out of a crowd. Even if that crowd were made up of other clone troopers.

So you stood with the others, smoothly pulling your blasters and blades out from their usual places. The pile they made on your empty seat was respectable, the wear on the weapons a mark of your ability to use every one. With a last quick count to make sure none of the other mercenaries decided to take something that wasn’t theirs, you followed everyone to the link between your ship and the Guard’s.

“Hope they’ll be less stupid about their weapons checks this time,” Yarrex muttered to you. The Kiffar was impatient at the best of times, but she knew her stuff better than most. “Last time, they misaligned the power pack on my rifle. If I hadn’t checked, it would have taken all of us out.”

You nodded fervently, remember how close a call that had been. Yarrex’s rifle had been actively overheating by the time she returned to the transport ship and she had hissed loud curses the whole time she fixed it. You couldn’t blame her - the smell from the flesh of her fingertips burning had lingered in the ship for days.

There was a Coruscant Guard trooper just inside the larger ship, ushering you to your ultimate destination. “This way, down the hall-”

“-And to the right,” you finished. “I know, I know.”

“Been here a few times?” Yarrax asked over her shoulder.

You shrugged, glad there was no one else behind you. What you were about to say could easily turn into tales of bad luck, and eventually spiral into you not being hired onto as many jobs. “Every single time I come back to Coruscant.”

“That’s not fair,” one of the trooper protested.

You aimed a dry look in his direction. “We both know it is, Chase.”

“I didn’t know they had names,” Kann remarked as he was led to one of the interrogation rooms.

Yarrax hissed disapprovingly at his back. The trooper stammered, “I- I’m not Chase.”

“Save it,” Skoh advised with a nod in your direction. “That one can smell lies.”

Chase glanced at you, clearly nervous even through the protective cover of his helmet. You gave him a broad smile and went to sit down.

Chase and the trooper who had directed you to the interrogation area were watching the room. The unfamiliar one had a medic’s cross on one shoulder and you wondered idly whether the Guard was expecting trouble.

They shouldn’t, honestly. The standard Coruscant Guard procedure was to pull everyone into individual rooms to ask questions about the most recent mission. The Lament had some latitude in the way they conducted business, but everyone made a point of being as vague as possible in their answers. It was an entertaining game you all played when you came back to Coruscant.

Though, apparently, no one played it as often as you.

There were two interrogation rooms being used at the moment. The ship had at least a few more, but Lament missions were made up of ten mercenaries by rule - no more, no less. With Kann and another mercenary in the interrogation rooms, there apparently weren’t enough of you to warrant using more rooms.

Mercenaries weren’t the most lively and talkative bunch, especially not after a long mission. A few of them shut their eyes to catch a few moments of sleep. The lone Nautolan in the Lament, a female named Veng, worked on repairing a tear she had gotten in the shoulder of her shirt. The needle flashing in and out of the ripped halves was mesmerizing, but your attention was caught by Skoh.

Your leader was watching the room, gaze intent as he studied the mercenaries and the troopers watching you. There was no real tension in him, not even the kind disguised by the specific relaxation he took on when a negotiation was leading toward violence. But he was awake and alert, so you decided that you should be, too.

Not that there was any reason to, of course. Skoh and Yarrix were the next to disappear into interview rooms as the first two went back to the transport ship. You weren’t among the next two to be called, or the ones after that. When it was only you and Veng left on the Guard ship, the door opened for Khyr to step out. Commander Fox stood in the doorway, sternly announcing that you were next.

Veng didn’t glance up to see the amused look you gave her, but that was fine. It hadn’t really been for her, anyway. The commander stepped aside for you to enter the interrogation room, then closed the door before following you to the table.

“Commander Fox,” you greeted with a nod. “How are you? How’s the wife?”

The commander removed his helmet, all the better for you to see the confusion and exasperation mingling on his handsome face. “The wife.”

“Or husband,” you amended. “Or partner. Non-specific.”

“I don’t have any of those,” he told you. “Did you get hit on the head during this massacre?”

You rolled your eyes at him, the way you always did when he disparaged your line of work. “Not a massacre. Not this time, at least. We do things other than kill people, you know.”

“Yeah? What was the objective on this mission?”

It just so happened that the mission you were returning from had been far more violent than expected, so you stepped neatly around the question. “Anyway, the point is that I see you so often, I feel like I should get to know something about your life. With anyone else, I would know about their partner or children or pets or hobbies. I see you more often than my parents.”

“That so?” Fox asked, tilting his head to deliver his skeptical expression to best effect.

“Not in the slightest,” you admitted easily. “But it has come to my attention that not every Lament mission gets investigated by the Guard when they return to Coruscant.”

Fox stiffened slightly. “We do our best to stop every transport, but our team is spread thin…”

“I’m not doubting your work, Commander,” you assured, “just your selection methods. Why is it that my team is always the one to be stopped?”

“Coincidence.”

Now, it was your turn to be skeptical. “You’ll have to do better than that, Fox.”

His eyes widened briefly and you wondered if you had offended him by dropping his title, but he recovered in the next instant. “Are you suggesting that we should be suspicious of you?”

“No, but you are,” you countered. “Otherwise, why would you always be focused on my missions?”

“I told you: we aren’t.”

Despite the way Fox’s teeth were gritted, you pushed on. You had a trump card, and you intended to play it: “Then why are you here? You, specifically? The Head Commander of the Coruscant Guard, investigating a transport full of mercenaries? You have better things to be doing than this. It’s suspicious.”

“I’ve told you, it’s a coincidence.” Fox sounded overly stubborn, even for him.

You lifted your hands innocently in front of yourself and leaned backward in your chair. “Fine, fine. Total coincidence. Your complete lack of supporting evidence or further arguments has convinced me. Proceed with your interrogation, Commander.”

He scowled intensely at you, but sat in the chair across from yours and started with the typical round of questions. Name, address, interplanetary work-travel permit number, employer, job title.

When you had answered them all successfully, Fox set his datapad down on the table between you. “Now, tell me about the mission you completed just prior to coming back to Coruscant.”

“We were on Raydonia,” you answered easily. “We were hired to protect a village.”

Fox gestured for you to continue when you stopped. “And what were you protecting them from?”

“They were hit by two unknowns a few weeks ago.” The explanation was a little shaky, but it was the only one you had been given. It was still more than you usually got for a job and you were fine with that, but Fox seemed determined to think you were untrustworthy. “They took some of the most powerful warriors in the village. The village elders were worried some of the surrounding people might take the chance to attack them. They were right.”

“Were there any casualties?” Fox asked, carefully not looking at you.

You smiled despite yourself. “No Republic citizens were harmed.”

It was a vague and a polite way of reminding him that he had no jurisdiction over things that happened outside of Republic-controlled planets. Technically speaking, Fox had no jurisdiction over things that happened outside of Coruscant, but you wouldn’t bet on that stopping him.

“And among your team?” he asked. “No injuries or deaths?”

“Nothing major,” you told him with a shrug. “You can count. I’m sure you noticed all ten of us are here and accounted for.”

“What about minor injuries?” he pressed.

You knew better than to shift in your chair, or look away from the easy eye contact you had maintained up to that point. Fox was an expert, and a sharp one at that. The smallest possible tell and he would know everything there was to know. That was what made him dangerous.

“None to speak of.”

Even your flawless delivery left him looking distinctly skeptical. “Then why are you limping?”

Despite the surge of frustrated exasperation that rose in you, your lips curved into a smile. “You’re too observant for your own good, Commander.”

“Which isn’t an answer.”

That made you chuckle aloud. “No, it wasn’t. But since you’re so insistent on an explanation, I sustained a minor injury on the mission. I treated it promptly and it is well on its way to healing.”

“How were you injured?”

Dimly, you wondered if Fox realized that he had leaned forward slightly under the weight of his own intensity. But only dimly, because most of your attention was drawn to the way he was even more handsome from a shorter distance away.

“Why?”

Fox blinked, and it seemed to break the spell he had put himself under. An instant later, he was scowling again - a fairly regular expression for him during these stops. “Because I’m the Head Commander of the Coruscant Guard and I asked you a direct question.”

“I don’t answer to you,” you reminded him, privately savoring the look of profound irritation blossoming on his face. “Not about missions that take place in independent systems. Even if they result in injuries.”

“Maybe I have cause to believe that you sustained that injury in Republic territory,” Fox proposed. “Maybe I need proof you aren’t lying to me.”

For a mercenary, you were even-tempered. Remarkably so, in fact. It helped you get along with your more volatile coworkers. But you did have a temper, and when it sparked, you were far from subtle.

The slam of the chair’s front legs reconnecting with the floor was loud. Fox didn’t jump - he had too much control over himself for that - but his eyes darted to yours in a way that made his surprise evident. Your hands connecting with the top of the table between you was loud, too, the sound specifically and purposefully sharp.

You leaned in toward Fox and the expression on your face was unpleasant enough that he looked concerned. “I like you, Fox. I think you’re a good man doing your best in the galaxy’s worst job. That’s why I’m gonna give you this one warning: I do not appreciate being called a liar.”

“I didn’t-”

Your gaze was hard as you stared him in the eyes. Fox looked startled as well as concerned by that point. He had never seen you truly pissed before.

“Yes, you did,” you said firmly. “I will be the first to admit that I exaggerate. I dramatize. I embellish for comedic effect. But I do not lie. I have never lied to you or any of your men, despite what is verging on harassment. I do not intend to lie in the future, and I don’t want to file a harassment charge, but all of that depends on you.”

It was honestly a shock when Fox didn’t take advantage of your pause to speak. It told you that he understood how deadly serious you were. With his attention sharp on you, you told him, “I’m a reasonable person. I am willing to overlook this misstep… once. And that offer is entirely dependent on what you say next.”

“I’m sorry,” Fox said, honesty ringing in the simple words. You waited for more and he obliged: “You’re right, you have never lied to me - to any of us. Not about anything big. It was unfair of me to accuse you of it.”

“And why did you?” you asked.

The question felt a little like twisting a blade in an injury, but you needed to know. You needed to know that it wasn’t going to happen again, and if it did, you needed to know enough to anticipate it. Because you had grown to respect Commander Fox, damn it, and it had hit surprisingly hard to have him misjudge your morals so dramatically.

“I… don’t like the idea of you being injured,” Fox admitted, sounding mystified. You understood, since that explanation left you feeling a little mystified yourself. “I would like to know about your injury if you’ll agree to tell me.”

You watched the commander for another long moment, doing your best to gauge his sincerity. It wasn’t easy - especially since it required you to look past those lovely eyes and flawless bone structure - but you managed. It was one of your most reliable skills, after all. Fox seemed to be telling you the truth.

When you leaned your chair backward again, the tension in the room shattered. You sent him a cryptic half-smile. “You know us mercenaries,” you drawled. “We don’t give away anything for free. You ask your question and I’ll ask mine. A truthful answer for a truthful answer.”

Fox considered it for only a moment before he nodded. “How did you get injured?”

“One of the attacking villagers had better aim than I expected,” you said, smiling wryly. “After I pulled his vibroblade from my calf, I changed my previous opinion.”

“Do you have a bacta patch on it?” Fox asked. “If not, I can get you a fresh one before you go back to your transport.”

“I already have one, thanks,” you assured him. “And I’m feeling generous, so I’m going to point out the fact that I let you ask two questions. Now it’s my turn.”

Luckily for Fox, you really were in a good mood again. You only let him dangle in his discomfort for a few moments before you asked your question. “Do you always stop my transport on purpose?”

“Yes.”

For all that you had suspected that answer, hearing it directly was shocking.

Instead of responding immediately, you paused for a moment to take a breath. If Fox was targeting you specifically, you had to believe there was a reason. And since you had already come this far, you may as well find out what that reason was. “Why?”

Fox looked reluctant and faintly uncomfortable. It was the look you imagined most of the troopers got when they were asked to do an unpleasant chore. But, to Fox’s credit, he gave the answer he had promised.

“You’re not the typical mercenary.” You frowned, already opening your mouth, but he quickly went on. “Not that you don’t have your skills, but I’ve been keeping a close eye on the missions you’re a part of. That is, the Coruscant Guard has. There is a concern among the men that the Lament would leave you behind on a mission or allow an injury to go untreated.”

Well, it was an explanation, but you felt like it left you with more questions than answers. “Nice to know you guys worry about me, but I still don’t understand why you care.”

Fox shrugged, but the casual gesture was belied by the way his eyes were locked with yours. “You look at us like we’re human.”

You frowned again.

“And I… admire you,” Fox added quietly. “You have a code and you follow it. Unusual, especially for a mercenary.”

“Again with the insults about my work.” Despite your heavy sigh, your tone was playful, and you knew he would take it as the tease that it was. “I look forward to seeing you too, Fox. That’s why I haven’t complained about being stopped every time we come back to Coruscant.”

He gave you a disbelieving look and you laughed. “Okay, fine. That’s why I don’t complain too much.”

Fox didn’t immediately reply. Normally, the two of you traded barbs and witty remarks back and forth so quickly that it would make an onlooker’s head spin. But you didn’t feel the need to say anything further and, apparently, neither did he. The room filled with a surprisingly comfortable silence, warm and cozy in a way that durasteel interrogation rooms rarely managed.

“So you’ve decided against filing harassment charges?” Fox asked at length.

“I have no intention of it,” you told him. “We made a deal. Guess that’s more evidence of my rare and admirable moral code…”

Fox rolled his eyes and you laughed. Before he could say something sarcastic, you added, “Besides, I think I would miss seeing you guys if you stopped checking up when I return from missions.”

“You would miss us?” You would have accused Fox of fishing for a compliment if he hadn’t sounded so charmingly stunned.

“Of course,” you told him, narrowly stopping yourself from winking at him. He really was a very attractive man. “But I need to get back to the transport now. They wouldn’t leave without me, but one of the others might get a little grabby with the weapons I left behind. Especially since I have a sharp new vibroblade.”

Fox stood when you did, leading the way to the door with a suspicious look on his face. “This isn’t the vibroblade that…” He finished the question only with a vague gesture toward your injured leg.

“If someone stabs me with a knife, I get to keep it,” you told him seriously. “I believe that is common courtesy.”

“No new weapons on this next mission, then,” Fox said as he stood aside to let you pass. “No risks, no injuries, no killing.”

You shook your head in exasperation, already starting down the hall back to the Lament’s transport. “I’m starting to think you don’t understand what being a mercenary is, Commander.”

---

Author's Note - Happy Fox day! I knew I wanted to write something for 10/10, and big thanks to @nowait-whathappened for giving me this prompt! Thank you for reading and have a wonderful day!

You can find other works on my masterlist or sign up for my taglist here. As always, I'm happy to remove you from the taglist if it's no longer in your interests.

Taglist: @rexs-wife @sugarpuffsstuff @stargazingthenightaway @just-some-girl-92 @kimageddon @ladysongmaster @carodealmeida @adriiibell @boomtowngirl @bitchylittleredhead @blck-omen @lackofhonor @captxin-rex @literallydontlook @salaminus @lucyhelena @808tsuika @ladykatakuri @bikerlorian @torchbearerkyle @frietiemeloen @tsedeshgishnii @buddee @justanothersadperson93 @leotatombs @mavendeb @rain-on-kamino @itsagrimm @captain-splock-you @dancingwiththeplanets @hummellchen @theclonesdeservebetter @cyarinka @ladyemxo @maulslittlemeowmeow @rosmariner @staycalmandhugaclone @coruscanticoffee @crookedwiings @eyecandyeoz @fordo-kixed-rex @musigrusi @lucyysthings @dinsverdika @bombshe77 @cawyden

#star wars #star wars the clone wars #star wars fanfiction #reader insert #commander fox #coruscant guard #commander fox x reader #commander fox x you #fox x reader #fox x you #gn!reader #no use of y/n #fox day #cc 1010 #fic prompt #ink's fics

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silverwings22 · 4 months

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Forget-Me-Not Blue, In Red (Commander Fox One-Shot)

SFW, but injury, Order 66, and angst

This idea hit me out of nowhere, and I don't know if it'll turn into anything bigger like my Tech one-shot did. But have fun with it!

He’d woken up to the truth a little slower than some of his brothers, but Fox had woken up eventually. The Republic, the war, the Empire, it was all a farce put together to turn the galaxy upside down in someone else’s image. He and his kin had simply been the bullet in a loaded slugthrower, and the order had been a finger on the trigger.

Order 66.

He’d been aimless afterwards, watching things shift around him. Smoke belched from the burning Jedi Temple for days, while he and the Coruscant Guard ensured order. There were riots, there were planets resisting… then there were TK troopers and suicide missions as clones were phased out. Squad by squad, legion by legion, until no one was left between him and the chopping block. He’d always thought he’d go first, before the younger brothers. The shinies, the ones he looked after and protected. He’d always taken the first week of any posting when a new delegate requested a clone guard detail, so he could see what they were like. The bad ones got older, hardened brothers who could take it. He’d never let little brothers suffer under someone like Palpatine… that’s why he’d stayed so long. He could have transferred, there was one posting he’d always wanted… but he stayed. He took the abuse, the bruises and scars, the unexplainable gaps in his memory, the injuries that looked like lightning strikes on a planet that didn’t have lightning…

He’d done it for his brothers. Now, most of them were gone. Some turned up dead, on missions or in the barracks without explanation besides a cold look from an Imperial officer. Others just went missing. There were rumors, whispered between clones, of a place you could go and words you could say. If you went, you didn’t come back. Like tales of fae on Stewjon, the mysterious Other Ones would whisk you to a new place. What it was, no clone had returned to tell. Some were willing to risk it. After a year under the Empire, Fox was willing to risk it.

It was a derelict hangar bay in the lower mid levels. The instructions had said come alone, with only what he could carry and to give up the rest. “I’m looking for a ride home.” He said quietly, just enough he hoped someone heard. He hoped someone came, and it wasn’t a trap to weed out the traitors among the clones. His only answer then would be a blaster bolt to the chest for treason-

“You’re in direct violation of Order 66. You are guilty of treason, and will be executed.”

“Fox?”

The sound of footsteps made him turn, and he found himself looking at 501st blue paint on the white standard armor. Jaig eyes were on the helmet, covered in tally marks to represent fallen brothers… he knew that armor. His comrade, his friend, his brother. “Rex?”

“Fox.” Rex pulled his helmet off, revealing his blonde buzz cut and a new scar on the right temple. “I was hoping you’d show up one day.”

“The reports said you were dead.” Fox reached for his arm with unsteady hands, clasping Rex tightly. If the captain noticed his hands were shaking, he didn’t comment.

“It’s better if the Empire thinks that. Come on. You’re safe now, vod.”

When Rex took him off Coruscant, Fox was whisked to a field hospital. He wasn’t even sure what planet he was going to, Rex apologizing when he told him the secrecy was needed. “There’s a chip in your head, vod. That’s why you carried out the Order. We have to take it out, and make sure you’re okay before you decide what you do with the rest of your life.”

“What have other clones been doing?” Fox asked, sitting blindfolded in a seat of a shuttle beside him.

“Some decided to keep fighting. There’s a resistance, mostly clones but with some nat-born help. Others have been retiring. They’re exhausted. I can’t blame them… some go to a place a couple friends of mine found, called Pabu. Others have settled on Pantora. Senator Chuchi’s been helping us.”

“I can’t go to Pantora.” Fox said, too fast and he knew it.

“Did something happen, Fox?”

“I did something… during the Order. Something unforgivable.”

Rex patted his brother’s shoulder. “We all have regrets. It wasn’t your fault, it was the control chip in your brain. We’ll get it out soon, and you’ll be free. I promise.”

Fox wanted to call his brother a liar. He’d never be free from what he’d done. He wanted to confess right there, but his jaw locked and his throat closed at the memory of the night the Republic fell. “C-can I tell you?” He finally managed to rasp. “You should know… who you’re saving. What I’ve done.”

“You’re my brother, Fox. That’s all that matters.” Rex said it kindly, but Fox didn’t feel like he deserved any of it. “But I’m listening.”

Fox nodded, fists clenched in his lap. With the blindfold on, he could imagine every word he spoke as he stuttered out the story. The worst thing he’d ever done, the reason he had to get out of the Empire.

Kandri Chitose had been Senator Riyo Chuchi’s personal assistant, a golden-eyed beauty who always wore her rose-pink hair in a set of twin buns held with golden pins. He’d met her when Chuchi requested a clone detail for her, and Fox had arrived for his customary week-long observation.

Most delegates, even the nice ones, didn’t address the clones at first. Most were nervous being around military personnel, and didn’t know how to break the ice. Some were intimidated. Many just didn’t view the clones as people, and acted accordingly.

She’d offered him a cup of caf before he was fully in her office. “Good morning!” She’d been balanced precariously on a stool, set in a rolling desk chair, trying to reach the bag of caf on top of her office shelf. “Hold on a moment, I’ll make us both a cup if you’d like. My menace of a brother came to visit and he put my caf all the way up here! Do you like caf? I have tea if you’d prefer.”

“Do you need help, ma’am?” He could only watch her on the tippy toe of one foot, blue calf disappearing under her red dress. Her favorite color, he’d find out eventually.

“I think I’ve- aha! Got it.” She clambered down with a smile. The gold tattoos on her face formed a bar over her nose and triangles on her chin and cheekbones. “Now then. I’m Kandri. What’s your name, and please don’t tell me a CT number. I get mixed up with numbers, but I’m good with names.”

“Commander Fox, ma’am.”

She held out a hand to shake, and her nails were painted red. He’d remember that polish forever. “It’s nice to meet you, Commander. Caf or tea?”

“Caf is fine, but you don’t have to go to the trouble-”

“It’s not trouble. There’s creamers in the fridge by my desk, pick whichever you like.” She headed to the caf maker and got it going with deft fingers.

“I don’t think I’ve ever put creamer in caf.” He frowned, but took his helmet off so he could at least enjoy the offering she was so insistent on giving him.

She wrinkled her nose. “To each his own. If you ever change your mind, it’s right there. Here’s the sugar. Now, I know they didn’t tie up a Commander like you to babysit little me, so you must have stuff you need to get done. Can you do it here, or should we go to your office after caf? I can work anywhere. Riyo just has me drafting her speeches today.”

By the end of the week, Fox almost didn’t leave the posting. She made him caf every morning, and let him get work done. When there was time, she asked him about himself and his brothers. And he’d tried every creamer in her fridge.

He assigned her a shiny, because he knew she’d be good to his little brother. She’d given him her comm frequency and told him he had an open invitation to have caf in her office, and to call her if he ever needed anything.

Fox infamously didn’t like people. He liked Kandri after that.

He didn’t intend to call her. He felt bad as he dialed the frequency, but it was 0300 and he had no one else to call for help. She hadn’t asked any questions, just showed up at the senate building in a red peacoat over her white nightgown, feet in a pair of ballet flats. He was on the bottom of the stairs with a broken foot and gash over his eye. Kandri had pulled his weight, armor and all, onto her narrow shoulders and helped him to her office so she could take a look at him. She’d cleaned his cut and put a bacta patch on it, then tried to argue with him that he needed to go to the hospital.

He feigned embarrassment and told her he’d fallen down the stairs. Kandri had put her hands on her hips and stared him down, her hair out of its buns and falling in gentle waves down almost to her waist. He’d never thought about how pretty she was until then, in her pajamas with no makeup, golden eyes bright with worry. He eventually did let her take him in her skycar to the garrison medbay across the city sector, where she’d sat with him until a clone medic set and put his foot in a boot. Then she’d driven him to the barracks, taken one look at how many stairs he’d have to manage, and shook her head. “You can sleep on my couch, Fox. Call Thire and tell him you’ll be out until you’re better.”

“I can’t let everything pile up on him, Lady Chitose-”

“Then I’ll pick up your datapad tomorrow and you can call it light duty. But you need to rest, or your foot won’t heal right. And please… just call me Kandri?”

After his foot healed, he made time to see her more often. She always had a cup of caf and a smile for him. Sometimes she picked up lunch for herself and Senator Chuchi and “got an extra” that always coincided with something he’d mentioned wanting to try or liking before. He watched her, bit by bit, moderate herself for him.

If he mentioned that a certain phrase reminded him of the senator that threw a full cup of hot caf across the room at him or a brother, that phrase disappeared from her vocabulary. If he mentioned a delegate who mistreated clones, she stepped between them and her shiny guard the next time they met in the hall. Fox noticed, if he didn’t see it live he’d find out on security holo review later. Bit by bit, she showed him she was safe. She was kind. She could be trusted.

Eventually, he started letting her visit his office after hours, when he was catching up on things and no one else was there. She sat in the chair by his desk, moving it closer day by day… until one day she was sitting on the desk corner itself. His helmet was sitting beside her, and her hand rested lightly on it.

“Fox?”

“Hm?”

“How’d you get that scar across the bridge of your nose?” Her voice had been so quiet, so fretful and hesitant. Like she was afraid she’d scare him off.

He paused, stylus in hand, and looked at her. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I see how many other ones you have. Your hands, your arms under your blacks, your chest… when you stayed at my apartment, I could see there were so many…”

“I’m a soldier, Kandri. Scars are a part of the job.”

Her pink eyebrows furrowed, red painted lips parting as she fixed her eyes on him. “Fox. I know you didn’t fall down the stairs that night.”

Fox stiffened. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes you do.” She slowly leaned a little closer. “I see you. The first one to step between your brothers and danger. The last one to back down. You didn’t even flinch when that Zillo creature attacked this building, but you twitch when we pass certain senators in the hall. You look around when you hear the Chancellor’s voice. And you’re a clone commander, the most graceful and battle-ready people in the galaxy. You didn’t fall. Someone pushed you. Tell me who.”

“I can’t do that.” He shook his head, unable to tear his eyes away from hers.

“But they hurt you.”

“I’m a soldier. A clone. We’re meant to be expendable.”

“That’s not fair, Fox.” Kandri kept leaning in, though her hand on his helmet tightened its grip. “It’s not right. You don’t deserve it.”

“Lots of people think so.” He swallowed hard. He had an idea of what she was going to say next, and he wanted to hear it just as much as he didn’t. Once the words came out of her mouth, he’d never forget them. They’d mean too much to him.

“I would never hurt you.” Kandri whispered. “But I know you can’t believe that. Too many people have already let you down.”

He’d never been more seen than that moment, in the light of those golden eyes. There was no formality or procedure to hide behind. He’d already let her in too close, he couldn’t close the door again. “I want to believe you.” He admitted.

“Would you let me try to prove it?”

The galaxy had moved much too fast when he nodded. “... how?”

“Like this.” She’d kissed him, so soft and sweet and unlike anything he’d known since the day he came out of the growth tube. She pulled back after a moment, checking his expression for hesitation or distaste. When she found none, her cheeks flushed indigo and she slowly reached up to cup his face in both her hands. He closed his eyes when her thumbs stroked under them, tracing his scar and temples, where his black hair had started to gray far too early even for a man with accelerating aging. “I would never hurt you.” She said softly. “I’ll keep telling you until you believe me.”

He was one of millions of men, made to die indistinguishably as numbers on a strategy board. He’d accepted it in his exhausted way, told himself he’d do what he could for as long as he could to keep the vod’ikase safe. But for a moment, under Kandri’s soft blue hands, he felt like he might actually matter. He didn’t quite believe, but he wanted to.

Her second kiss was on his forehead. He adored her after that.

Stolen kisses during caf time turned to sneaking out of the barracks into her apartment, or either of their offices. Riyo Chuchi wasn’t stupid, she knew there was more than a friendship and simply let Kandri off the hook early some days. If her skycar was still at the senate building when the Senator left… she didn’t say anything.

Fox knew he was in love with her when she had to go back to Pantora for a month with Chuchi. She’d kissed him goodbye in an alcove behind the barracks, promising she’d be back soon. He’d missed her every single day, and thought about comming twice an hour at least. Only the reality that they both were working stopped him… but he found himself thinking about her constantly. Every petty jab from a senator who viewed him as barely more than a droid was easier to take when he imagined her rolling her eyes and whispering what an asshole she thought they were. Even the innate dread he felt whenever he was in Palpatine’s office eased slightly if he distracted himself with the thought she was coming back soon.

The Chancellor had noticed. Fox should have realized that was odd. There was no outward sign, no change in behavior, he’d been sure of it. But Palpatine had looked suspicious, like he’d both anticipated Fox’s discomfort and felt slighted by its absence. He’d been worse than ever after that, but Fox ignored it. It didn’t matter. The job, the Republic, wasn’t his entire life anymore. It was just an assignment, something to get through so he could go back to where he wanted to be. Kandri waited on the other side of whatever shitty day he was having, with open arms.

When she’d sent him a message that she was back, he’d asked Thorn to cover for him for the first time in his life. His brother had been delighted, grinning like a moron. “Please tell me you have a date. And please tell me it’s that cute Pantoran girl with the buns.”

“That’s classified.” Fox had left his helmet in his office, he was in such a rush. He never forgot equipment, and failed to give a fuck when he realized what he’d done. He’d get it again when he went back to work. All that mattered was getting to her apartment.

Kandri had met him at the door, in a red sweater over her day dress, and threw her arms around his neck. “I missed you so much.” She’d whispered, snuggling into his chest. “It’s good to be home.” He’d understood then, that Pantora wasn’t her home anymore. He was, like she was his. He’d spent the whole night in her arms, lighter than he’d felt since he was a cadet. She was almost asleep on his chest when he kissed her rosebud pink hair and murmured. “I believe you.”

Kandri had smiled, looking up at him in the dimness of her bedroom, the city lights from the window casting dynamic shadows across her face as she smiled at him. Her fingers trailed over the bridge of his nose. “I love you too.”

“Execute Order 66.”

When the Order went out, he felt like he couldn’t breathe. His head was in a vice, his thoughts muddled and discoordinate. He’d walked out of his office with other members of the Coruscant Guard, up to Palpatine’s office. The window had been broken. There were dead Jedi, traitors. The 501st was marching on the Temple, and he was to catch any who escaped them.

All Jedi had to die.

It had been a blur. His boots on the ground, orders given, the sound of breathing in his helmet, and then he’d turned down into an alleyway.

Two kids, barely more than ten or twelve, were clinging to each other. They were dressed in brown robes, with beaded braids by their ears. Next to them were a pair of Pantoran adults, a male and a female. They were comforting the padawans, clearly trying to help them. When he turned the corner, the woman stiffened at the sound of his boots. Before she even turned around, Fox had recognized her red dress. “Kandri.”

“Fox.” Kandri’s eyes were wide, but she looked relieved to see him. “What’s going on? These padawans said the Temple was attacked! We were out walking-” She took a step towards him, but froze when his blaster lifted.

Run, Kandri. Run. Take the padawans, take the other Pantoran. Run. Memory begged her, but she hadn’t. She’d pushed the other Pantoran and children behind her. “Lofi… take them and go.”

Lofi. Her brother, the one who hid her caf. She talked about him, he was a disability advocate and teacher at the fiber arts college at Coruscant University. He was blind. She was so proud of him. They were twins. Fox remembered all the facts but he couldn’t lower the blaster.

“You’re in direct violation of Order 66. You are guilty of treason, and will be executed.” His own voice had said, dull and uninflected, like he was complaining about the pre-programed weather and not pointing a blaster at her.

Kandri’s eyes watered up with tears. “Fox… please.”

“You are a traitor to the Empire.” There hadn’t even been an Empire yet, but he’d said it like it had existed for decades.

The tears spilled over, tracking down her cheeks. There were freckles across her nose, darker blue and barely visible in the dim alley light. A constellation all his own, or it had been. “I love you.” She whispered, because of course she had. What else could she have said, in the moment before he pulled the trigger? Before the blaster bolt struck her dead in the chest and she collapsed backwards, head slamming into the pavement. Sprawled on her back, one bun coming loose and dipping pink hair into a puddle, knees tucked together and one foot bare where the blast had knocked her right out of her shoe.

He’d ripped his helmet off and vomited immediately, tears in his eyes.

He’d shot her. He’d killed her.

Kandri.

He wished she had run. He’d never have seen her again, and she’d have thought he was a child-hunting monster for the rest of her life but she would have been alive. Instead, she was dead in an alleyway. And Fox should have called it in, but he couldn’t make himself get any closer to the corpse of the woman who’d only this morning had been alive and sneaking him a breakfast pastry from a Senatorial banquet just because she knew he liked cinnamon.

Fox had left her there, because he couldn’t make himself look at what he’d done.

When he finished the story, Rex just let him squeeze his hand. “I’m sorry, vod. I’m so sorry.”

After the chip was removed and he recovered, Fox didn’t know what to do with himself. He refused Pantora, he was hesitant about Pabu… so he decided to join Rex’s fight. Senator Chuchi was helping Rex, and it was a fight worthy of going to battle again. It was something he could imagine being proud of eventually, if he could ever be proud of anything he ever did again.

No matter how much his vode assured him that the chip had forced his hand, he still remembered he’d been the one to pull the trigger. He’d hunted those padawans. He’d declared Kandri Chitose a traitor. He’d killed her for the very thing he’d fallen in love with, her willingness to stand between someone and what hurt them. She’d been willing to save someone. She’d saved him, and those padawans, and her brother.

He couldn’t save her from himself.

“The base here is staffed with mostly clones, but there’s a couple civilian volunteers. Trace and Rafa Martez own the hangar you came to, you’ll see them. There’s a couple mechanics, one really smart and obnoxious droid technician, and a cleaner.” Rex explained, walking Fox in. “Don’t eat anything Howser says he cooked. Don’t stand near Gregor if he says he’s got an idea…. Anything else he should know, Vik?”

The bearded clone beside him, with gray eyes and a tired expression born of a place Fox had only heard whispered about, “Tantiss”, nodded. “Be nice to Kitty. Every clone in here will punch you if you make her cry.”

“Kitty?” Fox frowned.

“She’s the cleaner. A couple of the guys who defected like you did found her barely alive on their way out. She had a sucking chest wound, but they had some spare bacta and managed to save her. She doesn’t talk, we’re not sure if she can’t or just won’t. But she makes little noises like a tooka, so we started calling her Kitty and she seems to like it.” Vik explained. “She looks after everyone, especially the new guys who just got out of the Empire. She likes to bring people food.”

Fox nodded. “She sounds nice.”

Rex smiled. “I keep trying to get her to leave base, to see if we can find out who she is. She doesn’t seem to remember anything… but if anyone so much as mentions it, she hides. I found her in a walk in freezer once.”

“She didn’t get sick?” Fox frowned.

Vik shook his head. “Pantorans can take the cold better than us.”

Fox winced, but nodded.

“Here she comes. Someone must have told her we had a new arrival.” Rex nodded.

Sure enough, coming from the back of the base was a Pantoran girl with pink hair tied into a messy braid. She was wearing what looked like clone blacks bottoms and an undershirt, with a gray poncho tucked into her belt, and too-big boots, while very proudly carrying a tray of fruit. Vik smiled as she got close enough to make out the details of her face. “Hey, Miss Kitty.”

Kitty made a definitively tooka-like purr-myrr sound and held up the tray towards him.

Rex nodded. “She’ll get upset if you don’t at least eat a little.” He whispered to Fox. “She keeps this place spotless, and we give her little odd jobs outside of that to keep her happy.”

Fox nodded, turning back towards her as Kitty walked up with her tray. Just as her boots stopped, inches from his own, he dropped his helmet to the floor.

There was a constellation of freckles across her nose, sitting under liquid gold eyes that looked back at him with a guileless smile. She wore no makeup, no gold pins in her hair, but Fox’s mouth went dry at the sight of a ragged blaster-burn scar peeking just out of the top of her shirt. Her braid, pulled over her shoulder, was tied with a tattered ribbon in a bright, cheerful red. She held up the tray again, squeaking at him curiously with tone instead of words.

“Th-thank you.” Fox whispered, taking a piece of melioruun. Kitty kept squeaking until Rex and Vik took a piece, then trotted off after Howser in the distance.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Vik frowned.

“You don’t need to take her off base to know who she is.” Fox whispered, the fruit dripping juice down his gloves when he unconsciously squeezed it.

“You know her?” Rex glanced over at Kitty again. He’d been trying to figure out what to do with a girl who could barely seem to look after herself, but who was determined to try to look after the clones fighting for their lives against the Empire.

“I’m the reason she can’t talk, or remember.” Fox swallowed hard. “It’s her.”

“Her?” Rex frowned.

“The one I told you about… Her name is Kandri Chitose.”

#original character #star wars #fanfic #clone commander fox #the clone wars #tcw fox #commander fox

47 notes · View notes

pencildragons · 4 months

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excerpt from the (hopefully) soon-to-be-posted 2nd chapter of my foxquin fic the silver is white, red is the gold (quinlan is the guard's general and also has another padawan); cw ahead for mentions of body horror/corpse desecration, mind control, and memory issues

This is the sixteenth time this has happened, this vanishing without a trace, for hours or days on end. No one knows where he goes; the SecFeed vids show nothing out of the ordinary, the tracker in his armour says that he’s in his office, and not a single vod sees him come or go. In the end, it had been the SecFeed that had tipped them off to something being wrong. One of the original squad members that had been deployed from Kamino with him—a slicer, Imantu—had spent most of his time watching the ‘Feed, and eventually had come to Fox and quietly told him that, every fortnight since their deployment ten weeks beforehand, the vids would loop twice for five minutes. Fox had known better than to suggest it was simply a glitch; ten weeks had been more than enough time to establish that nothing ever happened by coincidence on Coruscant. Imantu had sliced through the encryption that wasn’t supposed to be sliced, and—found things that weren’t meant to be found. He had come knocking on Fox’s office door late one night, had brought Thorn with him, and presented his evidence: Fox was the one looping the ‘Feed. Fox had sat there for a very long time, scrutinised by his slicer and his commander, and told them shakily that he hadn’t done it. He had clearly been rattled enough that Thorn and Imantu had taken him at his word, and that had seemed to be that. Except that that night had been the last time anyone saw Imantu alive. They found his body nineteen days later, rotting in some mid-levels rubbish pile, eyes gouged out messily, every finger broken. Worst had been his tongue, ripped from the root and found a few metres away. The medic on duty said that it had been removed while he was still alive, same as his eyes, which—well. He doesn’t blame them for throwing up on his floor while giving their report. The next day, Thorn had inserted himself into Fox’s beat, had made him crawl down a manhole into a sewerage tunnel, stripped them both of their armour, then dragged him half a kilometre through stinking, knee-deep waste before he would answer Fox’s demands to tell him what the fuck was going on. Finally, when they stopped, Thorn had produced a holoprojector from his blacks and wordlessly handed it to him. The truth of it was undeniable: shot from an oblique angle—Thorn refused to tell him, but he guessed some sort of hidden recorded—was Fox, doing something at the main ‘Feed monitors, dated to twelve minutes after Imantu had last been seen. He had been wearing full trooper armour, but black instead of shiny-white or Corrie-Guard-Red, face hidden, but the tell-tale flexing of fingers and stretching of the neck and the roll of his gait as he limped out of frame were perhaps more telling than even his face. Thorn had clearly prepared for the uncertainty, though, because a montage of vids began after that. Most of them were from helmet-cams, all focused on Fox, flexing his fingers, stretching his neck, limping away. When you’re identical in every way to a billion other beings, reading body language becomes very important, and this could not have been more damning than if Fox had stood in front of his Commanders and announced that it was he, Commander Fox, who killed Imantu in cold blood.

#commander fox #sw #star wars #commander thorn #coruscant guard #corrie guard #quinlan vos #foxquin #quinfox #vox #tcw #the clone wars #sw fanfic #wyrm writes #the silver is white red is the gold #wip (wyrm in progress)

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chronozen · 6 months

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Dissecting Tales of the Empire (Barriss stuff)

So let's break down all the Barriss stuff in the trailer:

There's an Inquisitor Shuttle approaching Our - likely after she is freed from prison

When Barriss is freed from her cell

This little bit is actually quite interesting. First of all Barriss is wearing a prison symbol with the emblem of the Jedi Order on the shoulder.

The clone troopers are Republic Shock Troopers, The Coruscant guard.

Fourth Sister is actually wearing Jedi robes not an Inquisitor uniform, she's already fallen to the Dark side as evidenced by the eyes.

This is suggesting that Barriss is freed from somewhat close to the end of Revenge of Sith

Also the framing of Barriss in prison is very similar to Luminara's hologram in Rebels.

Barriss's eyes are really blue in this scene. Like more so than other ones.

Barriss walking down a hallway

Pretty self explanatory. She's walking down a hallway. She's wearing Robes that a likely Inquisitorius initiate robes. (Or maybe it wasn't Laundry day and Barriss's uniform wasn't ready)

The Clones are just Regs in Phase 2 armour. It looks like Fortress Inquisitorius on Nur.

Speculation: Barriss is giving a little side glance, she's either taking her environment or she's plotting something.

The Grand Inquisitor scene

When then see the Grand Inquisitor leading Barriss into a room with several lightsabers

None of the Lightsabers are Luminara's (Trust me i double checked Weapon's Factory.) They are most likely reused models and generic sabres - because animation and props design is hard and short cuts should be taken whenever you can.

.....but two of those lightsabers are very close to Barriss's lightsaber.

The one in the middle doesn't seem to hold a significance (The bottom of the hilt slightly resembles Ahsoka's Padawan lightsaber, and you could go Green symbolic of Luminara.)

....wouldn't it be just awful if its Tutso Mara's lightsaber?

Inquisitor and Barriss have a sparring session, he tries to get her to use Anger and slams her into the roof, she's noticeably angry.

"Mercy only breeds defeat, i will help you overcome this weakness."

This line is interesting because it's not the usual only your Hatred can strike me down line, the Grand Inquisitor is actually being polite and offering a twisted form of assistance.

Which brings me to a thought - The Grand Inquisitor was right beside Barriss during her big confession at Ahsoka's trial, he's probably going to see her as someone that they don't have to break or torture.

Fourth Sister using Spinning Lightsaber

So this is a very short sequence. The Fourth Sister is in an area with a Rock wall, jumps down, glances around nervously, spins her blade and looks up.

Speculation: Something hasn't gone to plan, maybe the Jedi later in trailer is tougher, or maybe someone else has swapped sides...

The Jedi Fight

This shot opens with Barriss in a proper Inquisitor Uniform and her own useless spinning lightsaber running towards Fourth Sister and an unknown Jedi with a blue Saber

During the fight we can see ITS NOT LUMINARA, this Jedi has a different facial structure, skin tone and likely human.

We can also see who i assume is Barriss looking like she is hesitating on what to do.

We then cut to a different seen of a hooded figure using the force to blow away B2 Super Battle Droids. This implies its during the clone wars and the hooded figure is very likely Barriss cause that silhouette is very similar.

The figure is illuminated by a white glow and it's probably a part of sequence meant to show Barriss before she went nuts - cause its been 11 years so new viewers might not know this character who only appeared in technically 7 eps at most is...

FIGHT TO THE DEATH

Fight to death between Barriss and an unknown initiate.

Grand Inquisitor throws a lightsaber between the two - no its not Barriss's lightsaber

Ray shields go up. Initiate who i'm calling Glup, goes for the Saber. The crystal has been bled so it's red.

Glup and Barriss fight and Barriss goes for the sky high kick or possibly punch to the head.

THE NEW MASTER

'it is time to meet your new Master."

This implies the initiates don't meet Vader until they're full members.

We see Barriss lined up with the other Inquisitors - she's in full uniform. Really hard to tell if her eyes are dark side yellow or not. (They still look Blue compared to Fourth's)

Also it's really funny to me that she's lined up with Bird face Inquisitor, Marrok and Fourth Sister, cause everyone said all of those Inquisitors was Barriss Offee.

They all kneel, Barriss goes down first.

Vader walks past and Barriss looks up slightly and watches him...and she immediately frowns and furrows her eyebrows.

She's plotting something....

Interesting note: Since bird face is alive and has his head perfectly attached to his neck still, This places Barriss's eps of Tales of the Empire prior to Ahsoka's last ep of Tales of the Jedi

Look i can hope for Barriss to escape and then we seen the back of Ahsoka walk into frame....

#barrissoffee #barriss offee #tales of the empire #star wars #star wars the clone wars #trailer analysis #I spent way too much time doing this #inquisitorius #fourth sister #grand inquisitor

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deejadabbles · 11 months

Note

hello there, Deeja!!! for the Halloween prompts, may I please request:

“I think someone’s watching us.” + 🎭 masquerade

with Fox or Jesse 💙💙

happy writing!!!

SEV! How did you know that I'm in love with the idea of Fox in a masquerade setting!? I kept getting more and more ideas for this one so I hope they all mesh well together 💙

Among the Hedge Maze (Fox x GN Reader)

Summary: You were desperate to find some alone time with Fox among the chaos of the ball. Hopefully, he gives chase. Rating: T (But Minors DNI) Word Count: 1,801 Warnings: Kissing, reader is GN but is called "vixen" once.

Edit: Here's a good song to listen to while reading Masterlist /// Tag List Sign Up /// AO3

Lavish skirts rustled, wine glasses clinked, joyous laughter rang, all colliding with the strings and keys of the live band to create quite the spectacle of sounds. Yes, the grand hall of the senate was alive with celebration tonight. Masked patrons held gloved hands as they twirled about the dancefloor, an enchanting song topping off the scene to craft the perfect image of a fairy tale.

All you needed was your masked prince.

Not that he would ever abide by being called a prince, though you might get away with knight. You would have given anything to see the look on his face when you called him either, but alas, nearly two hours into the party and you had yet to see your beloved commander. There was still hope, though. He had been tasked with mingling tonight, after all, rather than his standard guard duty.

Yes, mingling. Fox was expected to be the face of the troops tonight, and raising money for his brothers was the only thing that could have gotten him to accept such a role without tossing himself out his office window.

It would have been amusing to watch him try his best to schmooze with the Coruscant elite, but you had spent the last two hours rubbing elbows of your own. As much as you loved the party you weren’t about to miss an opportunity to help the troopers.

Now though, now you were craving a break and, once you heard a whisper that the good commander had been pulled into a waltz by the flirtatious dowager Starfield, you decided it was more than time.

You skirted the dance floor, knowing full well that the moment you entered the throng you would be pulled into dance after dance. Still, even given the crowd, you actually managed to spot your Fox. He was stiff as a board, that red and silver mask of his doing nothing to hide how out of his element he was. Dowager Starfield was comically shorter than Fox, practically being able to rest her head on his stomach as he pushed them through the crowd in the moves you had shown him barely more than a week ago.

Though, even out of his element, Fox was more than competent. Despite his stiffness, he moved in the dance just as well as anyone else, showing that the little classes you’d given him in your office weren’t wasted. Maker, was there anything this man couldn’t do?

His strategic side was showing too. You did not miss the way he stuck close to the edge of the dance floor for a quick escape.

Fox wasn’t the only one who could plan, though. Keeping your head high, you moved along the rim of the crowd, always staying where his eyes might spot you while you thought up a fun little game.

You noticed the moment he saw you. The way his eyes widened behind the mask, the way his shoulders lifted…and how he glanced down at the widow who was clinging to him like a prom date. Aw, he didn’t think you were jealous, did he? You flashed him your best smile and watched the very subtle way his back seemed to relax, just a bit.

Perfect timing, too, as the song was drawing to an enchanting end. Keeping your eyes on his, you tilted your head towards the open glass doors not far away, then started to walk towards them.

Confident that he saw and could find some excuse now that the dance was over, you stepped out into the enclosed courtyard.

One thing you loved about these parties was the chance to come here, to the well kept gardens where florals and fauna from all across the galaxy were cultivated. It was a breathtaking sight within this city. There were a couple of guests out on the veranda but, what looked completely deserted, was the small hedge maze at the center of the garden.

By the time you reached its entrance, you glanced over your shoulder and were delighted to see Fox rushing out of the double doors, head turning as he searched for you. The moment he spotted you, you blew him a kiss and darted into the maze.

Excitement filled your chest as you ran, especially when you heard the rustling of greenery behind you. In truth, it wasn’t much of an actual maze, but it was enough to give the tantalizing illusion of a chase. There wasn’t even a need to slow down, you knew he was probably right on your heel, right where you wanted him.

Unfortunately, the hidden little path ended too soon, and let out deep in the heart of the all but deserted garden. Crisp night air filled your lungs as you slowed to a stop and caught your breath. Oddly enough, now that you were still, you realized that you no longer heard Fox’s pursuing footsteps. You peered back into the corridor of hedges, confused. There was no way you had lost him-

Strong arms closed around your waist, pulling you back against a firm chest and causing you to gasp in surprise.

“Caught you, my little vixen,” a voice purred in your ear, which nearly caused your knees to go weak right there.

Instead, you turned your face towards his, finding that your lips were dangerously close. “Have you? Or was this all my grand scheme to finally get you alone?”

He hummed, as he lowered his lips to brush against your neck. “I think it’s both. And thank the maker, if I had to spend one more minute with them, I was ready to say there was a bomb threat in my office.”

You gasped theatrically, “And leave me here to deal with them all alone? How rude.”

“At least you’re used to this sort of thing,” he grumbled, “I was hoping the mask would help them overlook me- isn’t anonymity the whole point of these masquerade things?”

“It’s the illusion of anonymity.” Despite the hold he had on your waist, you turned within his arms so you could face him.

Finally you could take in his appearance up close, the deep red silk with white lining the cuffs and accenting the lapels in swirling patterns. Not to mention the mask made of surprisingly delicate looking metal, whose striking design curved into ears that pierced his curls. Fox looked absolutely stunning.

You hummed playfully as you ran a finger over the red metal, “Of course, if you wanted to stay anonymous, you probably should have worn a less obvious mask, Fox.” Your hand moved to the back of his head and untied the silk strand that held up the animalistic accessory. “You need a mask with a little more mystique.” With your other hand you untied your own mask and, with a bit of maneuvering, managed to secure it on your lover’s handsome face. “There, now they definitely won’t recognize you!”

“Ha ha,” he said dryly, but there was the smallest hint of a smile on his lips.

Then, his eyebrows lifted as he watched you put on his own fox mask. When you looked at him and batted your eyes playfully, you could have sworn you heard his breath hitch.

“Well, how do I look?”

Now his eyes were half lidded, and the arms around your waist tightened. “I think it suits you,” he said, voice low as he leaned in closer to you, “just like I think these colors suit you.” He ran his hand over the scarlet collar of your top, where your chest was exposed. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you wearing my colors,” he whispered, his warm breath touching your lips.

“Maybe I just like the color red,” was your breathless reply and your eyes fluttered shut right when his lips pressed against yours.

You moaned into the kiss, never tiring of the way he felt and tasted. Your arms wrapped around him to pull him closer, deepening the kiss as his lips moved against yours. One of Fox’s hands slid up from your hip, running along your spine until he could cup the back of your neck and press you harder against him.

Lips had just parted, letting his tongue slip in, when he paused. To your dismay he was pulling away the next second, scanning the nearby trees and bushes with narrow eyes.

“I think someone’s watching us,” he whispered to you.

Before you even had the chance to respond, Fox was bending to pick up a decent sized stone from the pebbled path and, with an expert flick of his wrist, sent it shooting like a bullet. Before it even had a chance to hit its target within the bushes, the greenery rustled frantically until two figures fell into view.

Despite their masks and even from this distance, you could tell who they were from the hair styles alone. Their training had them dodging that stone, but even still, Thorn and Hound were caught.

“What the hell do you two think you’re doing?” Fox said, arms crossing over his chest.

“We weren’t spying,” Hound assured.

“We just saw you run off and thought we should check on you,” Thorn added without missing a beat.

Fox’s tone took on that commander quality, “And that required you to hide in the bushes?”

“Well yeah, we were taking cover,” Thorn rolled his eyes.

“Optimum camouflage, you know,” Hounded nodded.

“So you two were waiting to…what?” Fox snapped, “Save me from taking a walk with the senator?”

“Walking?” came Hound’s snort.

“Since when do walks need that much tongue?” Thorn muttered.

“Inside. Both of you. Now!”

The dangerous tone may not have actually scared the two, but they at least had enough respect for Fox to turn and hightail it out of there at the order. By the time their footsteps were nothing but an echo in the night, Fox let out a long suffering sigh.

“I’m surrounded by idiots.”

You couldn’t help but laugh and pull him back into your embrace, “You know you love them.”

“I can love idiots,” he grumbled, before letting out another sigh and pressing his forehead to yours. “Sorry if they ruined the moment.”

“They didn’t ruin anything.” You pressed a light kiss to his lips. “Want to go back inside? I think you still owe me a dance.”

He let out a tired hum, “Hm, not inside.” Then, he took your hands and placed them on his shoulders. “We can dance here, just the two of us.”

As if all the social stresses of the day had caught up to him, Fox rested his forehead against your shoulder, taking comfort in the feel of you being so close.

"This is what I wanted all night," he whispered against your skin. "You and me, enjoying the night together."

And with that, he started swaying your bodies to a slow, intimate melody that only the two of you could hear.

Tag List: @sev-on-kamino @anxiouspineapple99 @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @commander-sunshine @dystopicjumpsuit @wolffegirlsunite @sunshinesdaydream @arcsimper5 @littlemissmanga @wings-and-beskar @clonemedickix @freesia-writes @idontgetanysleep @523rdrebel @moonlightwarriorqueen @briefartnaturewolf @kimiheartblade @littlemissbshine @funeralreunion @chubbyhedgehog @ladytano420 @trixie2023 @mssbridgerton @wizardofrozz @vithepotato @mythical-illustrator

#fox x reader #commander fox x reader #fox x you #commander fox #clone x reader #halloween prompts #clone wars halloween requests #halloween fic #deeja writes

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tesalicious2 · 3 months

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Hear no evil, Speak no evil, See no evil

The ‘Evil’ Triplets of the Coruscant Guard

One of the few sets of triplets born from kamino, they’re chances of survival were slim but they had survived

Their scores were high and were deployed six months into the clone wars at age 10

The triplets were separated from their other batchmates, however this didn’t bother them and they only needed each other

The first and eldest was Sound (Hear no evil), he loved to sit and listen to anything around him. He was fascinated by ambient sounds his hearing was greatly above average, and he used this to his advantage

He would listen to anyone speak for hours and would be so happy with sound, he hardly spoke at all but everyone knew he listened and understood

The second and middle triplet was Sight. He loves to watch the world around him, all the views and colors made him joyful in the darkest of times.

His sight was greatly above average and he could read any vod like an open book, even those he’d never met. His eyes were blue as the ocean and clear as day

The third and youngest was Shout. He loved to tells stories and speak to his vod, lifting any from the darkest nightmare into the lavish worlds he painted with his words.

He can’t keep count of how many times he’s talked down vod and distracted them from the harshness of the world.

One patrol in the lower levels sent the three of them down, they had done it before and had been disillusioned to the hatred boiling in Coruscant

Despite their fear, they went down

As they were heading back, they were stopped by civilians, they seemed kind and friendly so they endeavored to help them

By the time backup arrived, the damage had been done. They would be reassigned to a permanent, less physical position.

Sound had been rendered deaf as his eardrums were ruptured. Sight’s eyes were taken, for their lovely color and clarity. Shouts vocal chords damaged beyond repair, unable to speak a word.

Their depression lead to their deaths at their own hands

Now the Triplets remain, a cautionary tale

Hear No Evil

See No Evil

Speak No Evil

#clone wars #clones #coruscant guard #star wars #sw tcw #clone oc #triplets #u thought this was cute Huh #nah #corries

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cabezadeperro · 4 months

Note

Echo/Fox(/Fives) and Annihilation <3

hiiiii friend!!!

area x coruscant!!!! pre relationship, post echo being found. fives doesn't die--he's just gone, and fox and echo are in the coruscant lower levels to find him.

The chute looks like one of any others. The LAAT/i hovers over the dark void, tiny against its huge gaping maw. Most of the sector is closed off to traffic, the buildings all around it dark and dead. The gunship’s floodlights try their best to cut through the thick darkness that seems to surround the entrance, but they only succeed in underlining it, in making it look bigger and darker. Echo wraps his right hand around one of ceiling straps and looks down: strong winds, heavy with humidity and the familiar smell of Coruscant’s Lower Levels, climb up from the chute and hit him in the face.

At his back, Commander Fox shifts. Echo has yet to see his face. He was quiet for most of the trip there, now and then giving orders to the pilot in the cockpit with a low, croaky voice. Echo ignores him and keeps his eyes on the tunnel as the gunship starts making its slow way down, the sound of its engines echoing eerily. Echo puts on his bucket and switches on the filters.

For the longest time Echo thought it was just a trooper tale, the kind the veterans used to try and scare them. Tales about the angels of Iego; tales about ghostly number stations, sending out codes in long-dead languages; the asteroid sirens, and the walking dead troopers that knocked on your tent or approached you during your guard shifts, nothing within their shells but air and hunger.

But it is very real: a whole area in Coruscant that’s been closed to most of its population for generations, ever growing. Echo leans further out of the gunship, looks down: he can’t quite imagine what could have brought Fives to think that venturing into this place was his best option.

The LAAT/i lands on a deserted public hangar, decades-old trash flying into the dark. The commander’s the first to jump off the ship; Echo follows, vaguely annoyed about being second. They are joined by a small squad of troopers, most of them wearing the scuffed red and white of Corrie veterans. Once the last one is on the cracked tarmac, the larty flies away, leaving them in the dark. Echo clicks the night vision on and starts making his way towards the terminal to the side, scomp link ready.

“I wouldn’t do that.”

Echo pauses and turns to look at the commander. His men are at his back, and Echo can feel the weight of their regard, four identical black visors staring at him from the dark.

Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard doesn’t want him there. He’s a remarkably quiet man, seemingly content to do his job and follow the rules, but he tried his very best to keep Echo off the team. But General Skywalker insisted.

Echo read the mission dossier, and then he did a bit of research of his own. He knows why the commander doesn’t want him to connect to the sector mainframe: he can’t say he cares.

Commander Fox would have killed Fives—from what Rex told Echo, he almost did.

“Respectfully, sir—I know what I’m doing,” Echo tells him, trying his best to keep his voice as even and bland as polite as he knows how. It’s still as easy as he remembered.

The commander tilts his head. Echo waits, and then waits some more. When Commander Fox says nothing, the rest of the squad standing quiet and very still at his back, Echo rolls his eyes and turns back to the terminal.

It’s an old model, at least a couple decades out of fashion, but it should do.

The click-and-flash of his brain and the machine’s touching is both incredibly familiar and profoundly alienating. Echo pushes through the tangled knot of disgust and comfort and lets his consciousness spread out throughout the sector’s dead mainframe, expecting little and finding less.

And then—

Something reaches back.

#echofox #echo5 #foxecho5 #maría writes #movie au prompts

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moonstrider9904 · 4 months

Text

Reflection

Chapter 6 of Moonwalker: The Flame

{series masterlist} {next chapter} {previous chapter}

{crossposted to Wattpad - coming soon} {crossposted to AO3}

Summary: Sarah is presented with some difficult truths she may not want to face. Meanwhile, the batch encounter a Wookiee on the Vanguard Axis.

Tags/Warnings: Nothing much. Just arguments and canon-typical violence.

Word count: 5.2k

Songs: crossroads, reflection

The cantina was nearly empty in those early afternoon hours. The only seats that were taken around the saloon were occupied by members of the squad alongside Phee, the woman Sarah had only recently met. With rich black hair and a voice to command everyone’s attention, and eyes that sparkled with the endless stories she could share, Sarah listened closely to all Phee had to say, paying no mind to the amount of times Hunter would roll his eyes in skepticism.

The subject of pirate life was prominent in all Phee’s stories, and as much as it sparked Sarah’s sympathies, it also brought a much more pressing matter to her mind. It had been weeks since she’d contacted Hondo in search of leads for where Crosshair could be, and Hondo would occasionally send a comm to tell her nothing had come up yet. Since the last time he did, she hadn’t heard a peep from him.

It never crossed Sarah’s mind that Hondo would conceal anything from her or refuse to give her information. If Hondo were to have refused, he would have done it the moment Sarah requested, but he didn’t. Maybe the leads were simply too hard to find—Sarah knew she was asking a lot from Hondo even if the request sounded simple. If Crosshair were easy to find once more, she already would have done it.

Any time the conversation was dominated by Phee and Sarah felt no eyes on her, she’d turn to look at the comm she clutched in her fist, as though she could will it to ring with any new information. Alas, only silence came from it, and it suffocated her.

“What about you, Strider?” Phee called Sarah, tearing her attention from her turmoil.

Sarah turned to Phee, her gaze nonchalant as though she hadn’t just been catastrophizing. “What about me?”

“What’s your greatest story as a pirate?” Phee gestured with her cup, eager to hear the answer.

Sarah leaned back on her chair and looked to a point on the ceiling as she thought, and a cheeky grin soon curved her lips. “It would have to be the time I flew Hondo’s ship without asking.”

“That doesn’t sound too terrible,” Phee raised a brow.

“It was on the lower levels of Coruscant,” Sarah delivered.

Phee snickered, crossing one leg over the other. “Well, you should have started there! How in the world did you get that saucer through Coruscant traffic?”

“Oh, no, don’t ask me how it got in, I was knocked out for that part,” Sarah leaned forward. “One moment, I was fighting reprogrammed battle droids with nothing but my bare hands, and the next I’m the only one near the bridge of the saucer while outside there are alarms blaring. Crew comes onto the bridge, telling me we have to get Hondo out of some night club, no time to explain, while outside the alarms are getting louder and I start to notice Corrie guard patrols incoming. I did what I had to do and manned the controls.”

Phee chuckled, savoring the many chaotic levels of the story. From the bar, Tech leaned forward on his chair, his figure angled towards Sarah as he adjusted his goggles. “How did you avoid collision? The lower levels of Coruscant are not known for being spacious.”

“I…” Sarah grinned like a kid caught red-handed. “I didn’t. I hit most of the patrols on the way out. Hondo never forgave me for scratching the saucer.”

Everyone around Sarah laughed, at least, everyone except Hunter.

“What happened next?” Omega asked Sarah with bright eyes.

Upon Omega’s curiosity, Hunter looked at the kid, concerned about her investment in pirate tales, and only partly affected by her level of attention on someone who barely acknowledged him. Regardless, Omega didn’t notice. She was still eager to hear how Sarah’s story continued, and then, Hunter watched Sarah down to every last gesture she made, and every thinly veiled mannerism only he would notice.

“Well, I got out of there,” Sarah replied. “By then, I was a good pilot, but saucers are ridiculously difficult to fly, or at least it felt that way at the time. I had to fly across Coruscant highways with two crewmates trying, and mostly failing, to tell me where Hondo was.”

“Oh, of course!” Tech exclaimed as he lifted his gaze from his datapad and turned the screen to face Sarah and the others, displaying on it a holographic capture of the saucer on Coruscant. “I knew your story felt familiar. You made it to local news coverage.”

“No way!” Sarah leaped from her chair and ran over to Tech, followed by Phee and Omega, and they all stared at the picture.

“Oh, you know you made it when you end up on the news,” Phee laughed, patting Sarah’s shoulder.

“It is a wonder there were no casualties that day,” Tech said. “The reports I saw said traffic had to be put to a halt. You made a large portion of Coruscant stand still, if you can fathom that.”

“All in a day’s work,” Sarah chuckled.

“You know, that reminds me of the time I went to Jedha—” Phee began, only to be cut off by Sarah.

“You’ve been to Jedha?!” Sarah beamed.

“Girl, I got lost in the kyber caves for three days,” Phee laughed.

Sarah chuckled. “You’ll have to tell me that one later.”

“You bet,” Phee saluted her.

Sarah then excused herself as Phee continued telling story after story, dominating the saloon and taking over nearly everyone’s attention. Sarah made her way into the back rooms clutching her comm, confident everyone else would be accounted for so long as Phee continued sharing her life. All the talk about her previous life had done little to calm the pressure that had bubbled inside her, but it had also reminded her that before anything else, Hondo was a dear friend. He wouldn’t mind if she called to check up on him or on what she’d asked, and besides, it was always nice to get the chance to talk to someone outside the confines of the saloon, someone she could trust beside the ones she knew she had beside her.

Sarah made it to her old room, the small space with the three cots that were meant for her, Omega, and Hunter. It was still familiar despite the fact that she hadn’t slept there in forever, and given recent events that had transpired with Tech, it was far better that way. But for the moment, this place would grant her enough privacy to make a quick call, and she wouldn’t raise suspicions by leaving the cantina entirely. Sarah then pulled out her comm and had just started to dial Hondo’s frequency, when suddenly, a deep and husky voice filled her senses.

“You’ve been hiding something from me.”

Sarah clenched her muscles to keep herself from jumping—was she so immersed in her current task she didn’t even notice Hunter had followed her? As calmly as she could, Sarah turned to him and stared blankly, expecting whatever it is he had to say. Hunter however, remained silent, and even though it was only mere seconds that passed, Sarah grew weary. With a heavy sigh, Sarah rolled her eyes, and her blank stare became infused with annoyance.

“Well?” She broke the silence. “You seem so sure. Go on, accuse me.”

“We tell each other everything in this family, Sarah,” Hunter paced closer to her. “I know you’re still mad at me, but don’t insult me by pretending I don’t take notice of certain things.”

Sarah’s heart rate began to rise, and she was sure that Hunter could feel the drumming of her pulse in his ears. She knew he would notice the blood racing towards her cheeks and her eyelids ceasing to blink as she looked at him directly in the eyes. Had Tech told him something? Had he put two and two together one time neither one of them were around? Or maybe she and Tech just weren’t that great at hiding it—Hunter and the others were bound to find out sometimes, but this was a conversation Sarah would prefer not to have at all. She and Tech hadn’t decided to be too open about it, not with the obvious tension that would arise. Sarah needed more time before she was ready to let the others know, and in any case, she’d like to have Tech there with her. Tech would successfully soothe her strongest emotions with a single gaze.

“You sneak off on your own, you barely take your eyes off your comm,” Hunter said. “It’s as if you’re waiting to be contacted, but somehow it’s never about a mission or something the rest of us hear about. It never involves any of us.”

Sarah felt her racing pulse become calm, but she remained silent. She wanted to hear whatever Hunter had left to say before making things worse.

“Sarah, are you talking to someone else?” Hunter asked. “Someone outside of us?”

Sarah sighed, unsure of whether or not she was relieved Hunter had picked up on her calls with Hondo as opposed to her affair, if it could even be called that. Hunter would certainly view it that way.

“You are,” Hunter confirmed as he observed Sarah’s demeanor.

“It’s nothing for you to worry about,” Sarah looked at him, deadpan.

“I deserve to know who you’re contacting,” Hunter said.

“Why?”

“Because I’m still in charge of keeping this squad safe,” Hunter answered. “We have to be careful when making contact across planets. All it takes is one intercepted signal, and our entire location will be blown.”

While Sarah ardently wished the conversation would end, she did understand Hunter’s need to know. Still, even if it was just regarding her contact with Hondo, Sarah was sure Hunter wouldn’t love the reason behind it.

“I’ve been making sure the signals are masked,” Sarah said. “I wasn’t going to take such a stupid risk. I know how to keep us safe, and if it makes you feel better, Tech also helped set up the frequency channels to keep us safe.”

“So Tech knows?” Hunter raised his eyebrows.

“Don’t take it out on him,” Sarah frowned. “He only wants to help.”

Hunter exhaled softly, crossing his arms as he continued to stare at Sarah. “You still haven’t told me who you’re talking to.”

She met his gaze again. Sarah weighed the different reactions he could have as well as the different ways she could explain that would mildly make her intentions seem better to him, but she hesitated, giving Hunter enough time to sigh heavily and for his anger to become drenched with heartbreak.

“It’s Crosshair, isn’t it?” Hunter said, barely above a whisper.

Everything else was wiped from Sarah’s mind when Hunter uttered his name, and Sarah’s discreetly hurt frown turned into a scowl, scoffing as she turned away from Hunter for a second before meeting his gaze once more, defiant.

“You think if I’d made contact with Crosshair, I’d still be here?” Sarah snarled.

Hunter’s hands fell down by his sides, and his head shook slowly, ever so slightly in both directions as he processed her words. Hunter quickly swept his forehead, and he shook his head faster as he began to make his way towards the door.

“Forget it,” he said.

“No, stop,” Sarah spoke up as he was just about to leave. “I’m sorry.”

Hunter couldn’t help but stop in his tracks. He didn’t think he’d hear Sarah apologize anytime soon, but it was enough for him to angle his body towards her again, willing to hear her out one more time.

And Sarah sighed again, for once, tired of fighting and longing for some sort of clarity.

“It’s not Crosshair,” she said. “It’s Hondo. And I started calling him to see if he could help me find any leads as to where Crosshair is.”

“Good gods, Sarah,” Hunter paced back closer to her, stopping directly in front of her. A fury betrayed by sadness clouded his gaze as he looked into her eyes, and Sarah could feel the bubbling anger inside him. Despite that, she could also feel how desperately Hunter was trying to hold back.

Hunter took a deep breath and he continued. “Let it go.”

Sarah slowly shook her head. “No.”

“You are clinging to someone who made a choice not to be with you,” Hunter growled. “Has it not occurred to you that Crosshair doesn’t want to be found by you?”

Taken aback, Sarah’s features softened. In truth, that was a question she hadn’t been brave enough to ask herself. She thought she knew the answer, and she was convinced it was the right one, but the possibility of the truth regarding Crosshair’s choice being any different was too terrifying to face.

“Crosshair stayed to protect me,” Sarah’s voice trembled as tears threatened to pool in her dimming eyes. “I remember the last words he told me on that platform. If he stayed with the Empire, it wasn’t because he didn’t want to be with me.”

“But it was still his choice,” Hunter said, his voice low, somewhat gentler, though not quite at the level of comfort he may have once offered Sarah. “If he wanted to come back, he would’ve gotten on the Marauder when we offered, but he didn’t. And it’s not fair to you to still be grasping at straws, going through all this trouble—”

“But he deserves someone to go through that trouble to find him,” Sarah said. “You may have found it in yourself to let him go. I can’t do that. A part of me wishes I could, believe me. Everything would be easier. But I can’t know peace for as long as he’s somewhere out there. I can’t quiet the doubts of whether or not he’s hurt, alone, cold, wounded, imprisoned—”

“Sarah,” Hunter frowned. “I don’t want you risking this family or our hideout because you can’t understand that Crosshair doesn’t want to be with us.”

A tear finally rolled down Sarah’s cheek, and though feelings swarmed inside her, she found herself at a loss for words. And it seemed that even the sight of her crying wouldn’t make Hunter soften, not that time. Perhaps, not ever, not anymore. She took a step backward, eager to find some sort of respite from a moment where she’d no longer be able to take the upper hand. She felt anger boiling through her veins. She felt anger towards Hunter for being so blunt, and she felt angrier at the possibility of him being right. She couldn’t decide if she felt anger towards Crosshair—whether it had been to protect her or not, Crosshair had still chosen not to return, and that was a deep enough wound in itself.

As Hunter looked at her, he sighed, and Sarah could notice his features soften. It looked as if Hunter was just about to reach out to her, perhaps finally trying to offer some comfort after realizing it was now his turn to apologize, but a third figure appeared at the door.

Tech had first looked at Hunter, as he was the one he was seeking, but his brown, goggled eyes fell on Sarah in a flash. His gaze remained there, astonished, attempting to form an understanding as well as an explanation. In terms of understanding, Tech could clearly see Sarah was upset.

And for an explanation, well, all Tech had to do was look at Hunter.

“What is the meaning of this?” Tech inquired with a frown so imperceptible only Hunter’s enhanced eyesight would notice it.

“Nothing,” Hunter said. “What do you need?”

“Cid requires us for a briefing,” Tech replied, skeptical. He walked over towards Sarah and poised himself at her right, slightly in front of her, as though to shield her. “We will meet you there.”

“Tech,” Sarah whispered, looking up at him.

Hunter looked at the two. He noticed how Tech had stepped in front of Sarah, and how unusual a sight that was. He noticed Sarah’s tears stopping when she looked up at him, as well as the way her eyes widened and her eyebrows lowered, as though she were moved by his presence. With one quick scan, Hunter saw many things, things he didn’t want to linger on. He wouldn’t fight Tech over his own speculations, so for now, Hunter gave Tech a short nod.

“Don’t take long,” he said before retreating from the room.

When Hunter was gone, Tech turned around and faced Sarah, relieved she had stopped crying.

“Do you require anything from me?” Tech asked her.

Sarah smiled, but dismay continued to flood her gaze regardless of how touched she was by Tech’s willingness to help.

“You’re doing enough, Tech,” she said as she leaned her forehead on his chest plate.

“I do believe every time you and Hunter argue, you both wind up far more hurt than the previous occasion,” Tech observed.

“Yeah, well, this time around, it may have gotten out of hand,” Sarah admitted. “It’s not as if I’ve pulled punches before. I’ve said some nasty things to him too.”

“That does not justify making you cry,” Tech leaned closer to Sarah. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I will be,” Sarah wrapped her arms around Tech’s waist, resting her ear over his heart.

The two remained in silence until Sarah stopped weeping, and when they parted, they walked together towards Cid’s office without making any physical contact. Their demeanors remained as normal as ever while they and the rest of the batch gathered around Cid’s desk and listened to her give them the details of their next retrieval, and as soon as she’d finished, they all set out to their next mission, a simple delivery of chain codes Tech programmed on their way to the Vanguard Axis.

It was a quiet flight, and Sarah remained with Tech for nearly the entire duration, refusing to make eye contact with Hunter, and refusing to believe what he had said about Crosshair. When the Marauder exited hyperspace and finally landed on the large space station they were heading for, the tension mercifully decreased as all minds turned their focus onto the mission at hand.

“Now remember, this isn’t a friendly place,” Hunter said as the Marauder’s platform lowered and the clones donned their helmets. “We’ll make the delivery. Echo, Omega, Sarah, keep watch here on the ship.”

Brightly, Omega agreed to Hunter’s instruction, and just as the rest of the squad was about to leave, Tech looked over his shoulder back at Sarah, and with his eyes, he seemed to say it all. Sarah gave him a quick nod, hoping she could convey her intentions just as well. She wanted Tech to know she’d be alright. And with no other words, the squad split up, and Sarah sat down a couple steps above Omega as they waited silently for them to return.

All of a sudden, Sarah felt her marks burning and her chest becoming hollow as the hairs on her skin stood on end. Her head snapped up, and her gaze scanned every possible corner it could land on, focusing on each sound and spec of light that may have come across her senses. In front of her, Omega caught onto her change in behavior and faced her, her eyes wide with concern.

“Sarah?” Omega asked. “What’s wrong?”

Sarah looked Omega in the eyes, unable to keep the words inside. “I just felt a disturbance in the Force.”

As she said those words, Echo emerged from inside the Marauder. “Someone we know?”

Sarah got up and paced down the steps and to the ground. “No, it’s not like that. Something just feels off.”

“We won’t be here for much longer anyway,” Echo said. “I’ll prep the ship.”

Sarah knew the wise option may have been to listen to Echo and to simply wait for the others to come back. The chain codes would present no problems, and they’d be on their way out of there fairly quickly, and whatever it is that Sarah felt would have no further impact on her or her life. And yet, that fact was contradicted by her inner sensations intensifying, almost overwhelmingly, to the point where she couldn’t ignore it.

Then she heard it: a howling loud enough to travel through the durasteel walls was beckoning her to head in its directions. Every one of her instincts told her to go toward it; she knew better than to turn a blind eye to whatever the Force tried to communicate to her. She knew better than to ignore the calls and the beacons it set around her, knowing that to do so would only make them manifest in more obvious, sometimes painful ways.

In front of her, Omega looked at Sarah, her big, bright eyes wide with worry. “Someone could be getting hurt.”

Sarah nodded subtly, frowning, and her eyes flew back in the direction of the howl when another one came. “I’m going.”

Omega pulled her bow out and followed Sarah. “I’m coming. You shouldn’t go alone.”

Sarah nodded at her and the two set out towards the steel hallways as Sarah pulled out her comm. “Echo, Omega and I are gonna check things out.”

“Be careful,” Echo replied. “I have the ship ready to go in case things go south.”

“Thanks,” Sarah said quietly and put the comm away, signaling Omega to come to a halt when they reached a crossroads. Leaning her back up against a wall, Sarah leaned forward enough to get a visual of the source of the howling.

It was a Wookiee, not large enough to be an adult, being forcefully coerced by two Vanguard Axis droids into a large crate where his fate could not have been pleasant in any way.

“We have to do something!” Omega whisper-yelled.

“I’m going first,” Sarah steadied her as she pulled out her hand blaster. “You’ll be my backup.”

Omega nodded and Sarah emerged from the hiding place, slowly pacing forward as she aimed the blaster at one of the droids. When the two noticed her approaching, their weapons immediately became pointed at her.

“Put your weapons away and step away from the Wookiee,” she commanded.

“Know better than to cross us, mercenary scum,” one of the droids replied as it began pacing towards her.

“I’ve crossed Pykes and Imperials, I’m not afraid of you,” Sarah clicked the switch of her blaster, setting it to kill.

In a flash, one of the droids lunged towards her, and it was stopped when a purple bolt from Omega’s bolt crossed its head clean through the center. It gave Sarah the opportunity to fire her blaster at the other droid’s head, and it too fell down on the floor with a large metallic thud. Sarah then looked at the Wookiee, and his eyes were fearful when he gazed upon her, looking as though he were getting ready to run. Sarah holstered her blaster and held her hands up, softening her features as she looked at the Wookiee, and when she did, her marks began to burn once more and the hollow feeling in her chest was replaced by a comforting warmth, the warmth of being near kin.

And when the Wookiee’s eyes widened, Sarah could tell he felt it too. Sarah’s hands lowered down to her sides, and her head tilted as she continued to gaze at the Wookiee, smiling discreetly.

“Hey,” she said. “You’re like me.”

The Wookiee smiled at her and spoke in his native language of Shyriiwook, and though Sarah had never come close to mastering the language, she could understand what he was telling her, how excited he was to find someone bound to him through the Force even though they’d never met before.

And Sarah would have continued the conversation with that same kind sentiment, but alarms began to blare, and through the distant halls, droid chatter approached unnervingly quickly. The doorway of the opposing hall then opened, revealing at least five more members of the Vanguard Axis, and Sarah brought the rifle from her back and assembled it expertly as she gestured at Omega and the Wookiee to run. They were able to successfully run down one of the hallways into a different room, one configured by a maze of crates, and there, their path was blocked by more of the Vanguard Axis.

“Scatter!” Sarah ordered as she used the Firepuncher to shoot down droid after droid.

Omega and the Wookiee disappeared from her sides, and blaster fire echoed around the entire room. When Sarah cleared the path in front of her, she ran into the maze and quickly found Omega and the Wookiee, who had successfully taken care of the ones who went after them as well. From there, Sarah led the way through their maze, signaling her teammates to lay low, until they emerged from the crates only to find Vanguard Axis reinforcements already swarming inside. Sarah aimed the Firepuncher at them and Omega aimed her bow, and no sooner had the droids piled in front of them that the door on the opposite side opened, revealing the entire rest of Clone Force 99, including Echo, all with their blasters aimed and ready.

“They’re with us,” Hunter called from across the room.

The leader of the droids held up a servo and faced Hunter. “Take your squadron. Leave the Wookiee and be gone.”

“No!” Omega called. “They’re going to hurt him!”

“You have it wrong,” the droid’s low, mechanized voice blared condescendingly. “Our buyer will pay handsomely for the Wookiee alive.”

Sarah aimed the Firepuncher directly at the droid. “Filth. You’re no better than a slave trader, trafficking living beings.”

“For the right price, anything can be smuggled,” the droid said.

As the droid spoke, Sarah quickly glanced over her shoulder at the Wookiee and then back at the droid. The Wookiee’s eyes widened, needing nothing more to understand what Sarah had wanted to tell him, and he held out his hand only for a cylindrical gadget to float quickly from the droid and into his palm, and as soon as it did, he ignited the green light saber and lunged towards the droid.

Sarah smiled. She realized then how much she had missed fighting alongside a Jedi.

All of them together with the Wookiee’s skills, and it wasn’t long before they could clear a path back to the Marauder. Sarah and the Wookiee were the last ones in line to get on, but before climbing, the Wookiee hesitated and called out to Sarah, warning her about the clones that accompanied them.

“They won’t hurt you,” Sarah called out in return. “You can trust me.”

The Wookiee hesitated, but he also knew it was either that or returning to the Vanguard Axis who would undoubtedly deliver him to something much more unimaginable. With his eyes hardened by doubt, the Wookiee leapt after Sarah and grabbed her hand, allowing her to help him inside the ship as it took off, and when they were far away from the space station and jumped into hyperspace, the Wookiee found rest at the back of the ship, sitting on the ground with his head resting on his knees.

Silence fell on the Marauder again as Sarah sat down next to the Wookiee and began cleaning the Firepuncher. She didn’t speak—she figured a wordless company would be more comforting after all that Wookie must have just gone through. But it wasn’t long before Omega approached with a full ration box and followed by the others, who immediately put the Wookiee on edge, causing him to growl furiously at the clones.

“It’s okay!” Omega called. “They’re not your enemies.”

“It’s okay, Omega,” Hunter said softly. “He’s a Jedi, he has reason not to trust us.”

“This Wookiee must undoubtedly have been present during Order 66,” Tech said, placing his helmet on in the event he would need to solve a language barrier and looked straight at the Wookiee. “But you do not need to worry. We did not follow the order, and besides, the inhibitor chips that made the clones unable to resist the order have since been removed.”

“He’s telling the truth,” Sarah told the Wookiee softly. “You’re safe with us.”

The Wookiee’s eyes softened, and finally, he reached for a ration bar in the box Omega had brought and began to eat it.

“So…” Omega began. “How did you end up there?”

The Wookiee spoke between bites, and Tech translated for the others.

“He was in hiding and attempting to reach the Wookiee homeworld of Kashyyyk when he was intercepted by the Vanguard Axis,” Tech said. “That was when we found him.”

“We could take you there,” Omega said brightly.

Though Sarah was touched at Omega’s unwavering will to help others in need, the prospect of returning to Kashyyyk caused a chill to wash over her.

“It wouldn’t be a problem,” Hunter reassured.

“Yeah,” Wrecker chuckled. “It’s been a long time since we’ve been to Kashyyyk.”

Sarah stared vacantly at the Firepuncher as she heard those words in the background. The last time she’d been to Kashyyyk, the galaxy was an entirely different place. Despite the war, it was a kinder, brighter, better place.

“Do you have a name?” Omega asked the Wookiee.

The Wookiee growled in response, and just as Sarah was about to translate, Hunter stepped in.

“My Wookiee’s a bit rusty, but I think he said his name is Gungi.”

Sarah looked at Hunter, with the corners of her lips tilting downwards and her eyebrows falling down near her eyelids. Hunter looked at her too, and it seemed his features had softened, as though he’d wanted her to hear him, like it would spark the conversation that would lead to making amends from their earlier discussion.

But Sarah turned away. She wouldn’t get into that now.

“Gungi it is,” Omega smiled at him. “Don’t worry, we’ll get you home.”

Gungi gestured at Omega in gratitude, and then he turned to Sarah with his eyes gleaming in curiosity, telling her how he didn’t remember her from the Jedi temples back in the day. In response, Sarah gave him a sad smile.

“That’s because I’m not a Jedi,” she said. “I was never meant to be one.”

Gungi tilted his head, asking her how that was possible.

“I’m more of a manifestation of the Force,” Sarah replied. “I guess that meant staying as neutral as I could… I grew up and learned how to wield the Force on Jedha, but when the war came around, the Force called me to the front lines and I became a soldier. And I always go where it wants me to.”

Gungi nodded at her as he listened closely. If anyone could understand the intricacies of the will of the Force, as well as the constant dance and struggle between light and dark, it would be him. And with a genuine want to know more about her, Gungi continued to ask her questions, and Sarah welcomed all of them. Engaging in a conversation with someone similar to her was comforting, and in the current landscape, it was also rare.

Becoming absorbed in answering whatever Gungi wanted to know would also lift the weight that was threatening to crush her, the weight of all the memories that would flood her the moment she stepped foot on Kashyyyk once more.

Thank you for reading! Please reblog to support me! Divider at the top made by stars-n-spice.

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mwolf0epsilon · 5 months

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Forceful Intervention AU - Masterpost

After some new developments within the canon itself, plus some thoughts on certain characters and their story arcs having changed, I've decided that the Forceful Intervention Verse needed some refurbishing.

There's a lot that's changed and some things that will stay the same. That said, a lot of the Our Bonds are Forged in the Stars series fics are now technically defunct as they don't 100% fit the story anymore, but @lost-on-kamino's A Different View fic is still valid and their writing is great, so I'd give it a read!

All AU Info under the cut!

---

Summary: For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. For every choice a consequence. In one universe, a series of actions and choices slowly doomed an entire kin to extinction, leaving only three brothers to deal with the guilt and grief until their very last breath. But in another universe, a slightly different outcome leads to the surviving clones getting a chance that would have otherwise been stolen from them.

(Note: The overall timeline is nodded at via the eras in which each storyline takes place. The storylines themselves are not presented in order and can actually happen simultaneously due to some plot points overarching.)

--Story Arcs--

-Clone Wars Era-

A Marshal Commander's Cautionary Tale - Prior to Fox being appointed as the head of the Coruscant Guard, his temporary predecessor begins to notice shady happenings involving Palpatine and the Republic's overall corrupt government. Throughout the course of several weeks while Fox transitions from a position of battlefield command to stationary bureaucracy, Sturm uncovers the Sith Master's plot against the Jedi and ends up not only being silenced for it, but also becomes a cautionary tale that serves to keep in line the newly promoted Marshal Commander of the Guard.

Sturm's Legacy - After his betrayal of the GAR and apprehending on Christophsis, Slick ends up being surrendered into the custody of the Senate Bureau of Intelligence under the pretense of being interrogated for information. In reality, Palpatine merely tossed Slick at the feet of his more bloodthirsty underlings, so that they could do with him whatever they pleased and be somewhat appeased by the Chancellor's "most graceful generosity". Tortured for several days and then thrown out with the trash, Slick is found and rescued by a few Guard patrolmen, and his horrific treatment sparks the seeds of rebellion in Fox and his men.

Ponds Survives - By sheer dumb luck and a few inches, Aurra Sing's shot does not kill Ponds as intended. Left permanently blind and with a traumatic brain injury, Mace Windu's loyal commander is permanently relegated to the Jedi Temple in an effort to keep him out of Kamino's radar while he adapts to his new circumstances. This later affects the outcome of Operation Nightfall, as Ponds manages to help coordinate the evacuation of several Jedi, younglings and important documents out of Imperial space (ultimately preserving a part of the teachings, but not being able to save the Jedi Order itself from being eradicated).

The CG Recovery Program for Wayward Brothers - Through Fox's meticulous planning, clones of various battalions that have been slatted for decommission are pulled into the Coruscant Guard for safeguarding. They are either given new numbers/designations (in the hopes to keep them away from further scrutiny), or are spirited away to secret housing within the deeper levels of Coruscant that have been essentially lost to time.

D22 the "Rookie" - During a heavily publicized mockery of a trial, after realizing that the Chancellor planned to use a heavily traumatized Dogma as a scapegoat for the entire incident on Umbara, Fox orchestrates an elaborate rescue mission that involves a bit of smoke, a few mirrors and an obscene amount of fake blood. Tricking the entire Republic and GAR into believing the rookie sergeant was killed in a prison riot ends up being much more easy than anticipated, especially when the best position for him ends up being one of constant surveillance (After all, who in their right mind that wants to stay under the radar, would even dare to become the Coruscant Guard's archivist?).

Cats in Strange Places - There's something odd about the steadily increasing number of stray tookas and loth cats, that keep cropping up in places where the Jedi and clones have been. One cat in particular seems to be in multiple places at once, something which doesn't appear to surprise the Coruscant Guard whom seem familiar with this particular feline.

Seeds of Doubt - Prior to escaping prison, Boba's negative perspective of the clones begin to shift as he learns more about them through observation and brief interactions with the Coruscant Guard. Caught between a desire to preserve the memory of his father and his longing to have a family, the renegade clone's drive for revenge slowly becomes the foundation for his future as the Daimyo of Tatooine.

Resource Management - Palpatine gathers test subjects (MIA & supposedly KIA clones) to use in his personal experiments. These various projects serve to look into achieving immortality, to test ancient forms of Sith alchemy, and/or to test the usefulness of recovered artifacts. Many are given to Dr. Hemlock to use in his own projects (including high profile clones from certain battalions), while others are used in Palpatine's own personal experiments.

-Post Order 66-

Clone Resistance Story Arc

Echo and Rex cut ties with CF99 - After the loss of Tech, Echo and Hunter's relationship becomes extremely strained, which leads to longer and longer periods of absence between Echo and the squad. Even after Omega and Crosshair escape from Tantiss, both Echo and Rex slowly begin to permanently part ways with CF99 (seeing as Echo no longer feels welcomed or respected, and Rex cannot afford to stop all rescuing efforts when things are beginning to heat up on their end). Agreeing that it is in everyone's best interest to formally cut ties (rather than force one another to do something they don't want to do), the two groups simply move on with their lives. While 3/4 of CF99 are not pleased with this choice (with Omega being especially upset about it), Hunter is content to focus on giving Omega a better life after everything she's gone through.

The Smuggler & the Dove - Rex establishes a clone smuggling network with the help of two ex-GAR members, so as to more efficiently track down and transport scattered clone stragglers that not even the Empire managed to gather on Tantiss, or that had escaped from the Imperial research base during CF99's rescue of Omega. Both Mae and Dove seem to have personal reasons to want in on this operation, while also having secrets of their own that they keep hidden well away from the clone captain.

The AI Conscience Program - While on a recon mission, Echo discovers some very unusual classified data within an Imperial research vessel. A few weeks of unexplained symptoms and bouts of sleepwalking after accidentally downloading more than just the research files later, Echo's two new "guests" (AI copies of Fives and Tup created for unknown purposes) make themselves known and embark on a quest to acquire bodies of their own.

Forgive and Forget - During a high-stakes mission with Rex, a run in with Fox proves disastrous, when a rather violent altercation breaks out between Echo and the ex-Marshal Commander of the Guard. An altercation that ends with the three of them captured by opportunistic slavers. Despite past transgressions and some bitterness, Fox does everything in his power to get Rex and Echo out of the mess they landed themselves in. And, through being forced to work together, some past misunderstandings and awful truths come to light.

The Failsafe - Echo and Dove are both captured after a mission goes terribly wrong. While Dove is taken away to forcefully take part in an Inquisitorium-funded experiment, Echo is pulled away to be tortured for information. Unwilling to give away any intel that may jeopardize the clone resistance, Echo resorts to a failsafe he had Tech install into his neural relay in case of his potential capture. This failsafe turns out to be a mind-wipe that leaves him with amnesia, but no less capable of escaping his captors via a hastily stolen supply ship.

Cody Wakes Up - Having been used as a prototype for the Dark Trooper project, Cody ends up as a withdrawn semi-mechanical shadow of his former self. However, upon being selected to serve as a warden for Dove while she is experimented on, Cody slowly has his humanity reawakened by her insistent kindness. Thirsty for both revenge and freedom, the cyborg commander unleashes all hell upon the research station and manages to rescue both himself, Dove, and the results of her experimentation.

Epifania Story Arc

The Great Coruscanti Escape - Several Coruscant Guard members who's chips didn't activate, begin the arduous task of escaping the heart of the Empire by all means necessary. Many fail along the way, but others refuse to give in. Even if their GAR brothers seem to have forsaken them completely.

The Archivist and the Communications Officer - Dogma emerges from the isolation of the CG Archives long after Order 66 was given out. Startled and very confused by the state of things, he manages to reunite with Rhythm and the both of them escape Coruscant together in search of somewhere safe to lay low.

The New Sheriff in Town - After landing on the rather quaint (and hard to find) planet of Epifania, Dogma and Rhythm accidentally find themselves in the middle of a dispute between the small town of Bakkskrash and a gang of thugs. A dispute that ends with the leader of said gang dead by Dogma's hands, the daughter of the town mayor safe from danger, and a shiny sheriff's badge in Dogma's possession. Neither Rhythm nor Dogma know how they ended up in this position but it might as well happen.

The Guard Remnant - After becoming the new law enforcers for the small town of Bakkskrash, Sheriff Dogma and Deputy Rhythm discover that they are not the only clones who've chosen Epifania as a safe place to hide. Reunited with the Guard Remnant (a small group of Guardsmen that managed to escape Coruscant by the skin of their teeth), the duo take it upon themselves to both maintain order in their new home, as well as help the others find their places within the community.

The Lost Children of Mandalore - Epifania's rich history as a safe haven is slowly revealed, when the Guard Remnant is introduced to the various ancient Mando clans that dwell on the planet. Known as the Lost Children of Mandalore, these clans (many lineages spanning back to the Old Republic era) are not only the last remnants of Mandalorian culture that has been lost to time and New Mandalorian creed, but also more than eager to accept the clones as their own due to their heritage and compatible code of honor.

Wilhelm and the Ghost Archivist - The ever present and peacefully dormant Wilhelm, protector of Epifania, awakens from his centuries long nap to welcome a new archivist into his expansive halls. Surrounded by the unending knowledge of many a millennia past, Tech's restless spirit finds both peace and purpose keeping track and documenting all ongoing galactic affairs.

Little Tulpa - A visit from the ever cantankerous Sponge leaves Dogma with a responsibility he never considered he'd ever be confronted with: That of parenthood. Perhaps raising an innocent little tubie will do the reluctant Sheriff of Bakkskrash some good? And perhaps the presence of a young child will ease the pain of the Guard Remnant who's own childhoods were stolen from them.

Of Unexpected Reunions & Mixed Feelings - After traveling with Mae for a while on their journey to create new better bodies for themselves (or at least better than the two BD Units they'd hijacked), the AI copies of Fives and Tup are unexpectedly reunited with Dogma. Mae proposes to the sheriff that he help her create Replica Droids for the two AIs to claim as their own bodies, through the simple donation of a DNA sample so that the two could more easily acclimate to their new corporeal forms. An idea that (due to years of unaddressed trauma and bitterness) Dogma promptly rejects, much to the horror of Fives and Tup who do not understand why their brother would deny them this chance so easily.

The Sulu Ra Chronicles - An old nightmare rears his ugly head back into Dogma's life, threatening to uproot everything he's built for himself, his young son and his brothers. Some tests are merely of the mind. Others are physical chores of herculean nature. Sulu Ra and his machinations and twisted experiments prove to be both, especially when it comes to how willing his intended target's allies are to keep him out of the Mad Cloner of Kamino's grasp.

Upgrading Echo - The amnesiac Echo's escape pod somehow manages to get past Epifania's vast meteor field, and crash-lands near one of the many Mandalorian settlements. Scared, confused and unsure who to trust, Echo becomes a bit of a local cryptid until he is finally captured and dragged to the only medic in the area: Sponge. Helping heal wounds and medical issues that have gone untreated for far too long is only half the battle. Upgrading some of his cybernetic prosthetics another quarter of the battle. The true challenge is helping the once proud ARC trooper regain his memories and sense of community...

Synthetic Genetics - After overcoming many trials and tribulations (many of them extremely emotionally tolling), both Echo and Dogma reach a point where they are willing to reconcile their relationships with Fives and Tup, and allow for Mae to use their DNA samples to be taken and used to create Replica Droids to house the two AI consciences.

Final Stand at the Farmstead - A notoriously violent group of slavers makes its way into Epifania and begins to terrorize the local towns in search of easy merchandising. Upon discovering the Sponge Clan's farmstead, a brutal battle ends in tremendous sacrifice for a clone medic and their four legged companion, as well as the unification of the many clans of the Lost Children of Mandalore who declare any enemy of the clones as their own enemy. Epifania becomes an official sanctuary planet for clones.

Fox's Warpath Story Arc

A Twist of Fate - Having witnessed the deaths of several of his Guard brothers and had his neck snapped by Vader, Fox feels like his time (and what little luck he ever had) has inevitably run out. Much to his horror however, an old ally stumbles across him and decides to lend an unwelcome helping hand. Forced to live despite having no real desire to carry on, Fox wanders aimlessly from planet to planet while trying to come to terms with all his past failures.

A Stumble in the Dark - After accidentally crash-landing on Epifania, a severely injured Fox stumbles across a water well and passes out from exhaustion after drinking his fill. He is woken up quite rudely when Dogma literally trips over him, while on his daily trip to collect water for the town of Bakkskrash. Fox is thusly reunited with what is left of his family.

Live, says the Ferryman - Despite his body being on the mend and having been reunited with his Guard brothers, Fox's despondent and withdrawn nature begins to worry several people. Recognizing where his depression might be leading him to, an entity that has grown quite fond of the clones (especially the Coruscant Guard) decides to give the lost commander some sense of direction. Sometimes the best revenge starts out with living well out of pure spite.

Fox the Bounty Hunter - Having overcome the stagnant cycle of self-pity and apathy he'd trapped himself in, Fox decides to do something about the Guardsmen still trapped within Palpatine's grasp. While gaining some prestige as a bounty hunter simply known as Rosso Vulpes, Fox enacts the second and third stages of his revenge by rescuing brothers that Rex's clone resistance has overlooked, as well as killing past abusers that had once crushed the Coruscant Guard under their heel.

The Clone Scrapheap - Several months after Tantiss's fall, Fox manages to locate one of Hemlock's private shuttles that seems to be traveling the galaxy seemingly on autopilot. Boarding the ship, Fox not only discovers what has happened to many brothers who were unaccounted for during the liberation of Tantiss, but also comes to a terrible realization over who is unwittingly commandeering the ship and its twisted experiments.

Operation: Delta Squad - After being promised valuable information that would speed up his imperial clone liberation mission, Fox agrees to work with a remorseful Scorch (who was rescued from the ruins of Tantiss but left physically disabled by his encounter with CF99) in locating the rest of his squad (who were being used as ransom by Hemlock to keep him in line prior to the destruction of the research facility). Tracking down the remainder of Delta Squad proves to be a bit of a challenge, but it's a mission that comes with a much welcomed surprise in the end.

Falling with Style - After four years of agonizing search, blood, sweat and tears (many of which were spent tracking down, rescuing and relegating forgotten or abandoned clones to new housing), Fox finally finds the two brothers he's wanted to free the most: Thire and Alpha-17, the only remaining vode still under Imperial control. Knowing fully well that this will be his very last mission, Fox gives it his all to save his ex-Guard kih'vod and the closest thing he ever had to a buir. While victory is sweet and the return to Epifania is celebrated, Fox has very little time remaining. His wounds are much too severe this time.

Rebirth of the Soul: The Candlelit Fox - Having fulfilled the purpose he gave himself, enjoyed what little he could live as a free soul, and watched his family both heal and thrive in their adopted home-world, Fox feels content enough with all he's achieved to let his ailing body draw final breath. A visit from the Ferryman of Epifania offers him a chance to leave a much more long lasting legacy. Fox passes on, and from his ashes rises Vela the Traveler, a fledgling Force Entity and patron saint of lost wandering souls.

-Rebels Era-

Force Wound Story Arc

The Thing in the Storm - After the Tribunal's grave-site was disturbed by Vader's dark presence, a powerful Force Wound forcefully tethered to the realm of the living the countless restless spirits of those who'd died in the crash. Confused, in pain and terrified, the amalgamated 332nd Company began to hunt down the one they believed was responsible for their abandonment and agony (Rex).

King Hunt - Long after Rex tried to run his Clone Resistance and eventually settled down on Seelos with Wolffe and Gregor, the amalgamated 332nd Company had spent years trying to lure the captain with elaborate distress messages. Those unfortunate enough to heed the call were consumed by the ravenous Force Anomaly, which only lost more of its humanity the more lifeforms it assimilated into itself. Well into the full swing of the conflict between the Rebellion and the Empire, Thing in the Storm manages to finally find a way off its moon-prison, bringing the hunt for the "traitorous king" to the wider galaxy.

Force Bleed - As the Thing in the Storm grows stronger and more bloodthirsty, its presence begins to be noticed by both still active clones and anyone who has been touched by the Force. Having recently been reunited with Omega after she'd joined the Rebellion, both Echo and Dove sense the impending danger that is actively seeking out Rex, and decided to embark on a journey to warn the captain of the violent storm that is brewing in the horizon.

The Storm Approaches - Dove, Echo and Cody manage to locate and reunite with Rex, who's been lured out into a snowy planet very similar to the moon where the Tribunal crashed. The similarities do not go unnoticed by the captain, who is uneasy throughout his trek trying to figure out what brought him to such a desolate planet with no real signs of life to be seen. Realizing this is an elaborate trap, Dove finds the group some shelter before a massive storm-front hits their location. Then a most perilous game of cat and mouse truly begins.

A Friend in the Dark - After dodging several ambushes and attacks from the incomprehensible abomination hiding within the storm, the group gets rescued by a familiar mercenary who may have been trying to unsuccessfully heal the horrific wound in the Force that the restless spirits of the 332nd Company have become. Zed warns the group that the Thing in the Storm is not at fault for its own actions (as they are a victim of terrible circumstances), but that if any further attempts to bring them to reason fail to work they will have no other choice but to destroy it to prevent any more damage to be done to the Force itself.

Jesse Wakes Up - Now knowing the true identities of the Thing in the Storm, a guilt-ridden Rex decides to give himself up to appease the monster his brothers have become. Dove, Cody and Echo do not agree to this plan however, and convince Rex to instead try to talk things out. Initially this does not prove fruitful, as the amalgamated 332nd are so consumed by their collective fear and anger that they immediately lash out. But, as the group tries time and time again to reach out and calm them, Jesse's consciousness begins to reawaken within the abomination.

A Monster at their Side - After regaining full control of his senses and then reigning in the rest of the terrified souls that form their amalgamated form, a repentant Jesse begs Rex for forgiveness over what transpired on the Tribunal. After being told of what truly went down on the day Order 66 rang out, Jesse decides to join the Rebellion as both an intelligence officer and potential assassin (as his new abilities as an eldritch abomination make him an ideal infiltration unit). He hopes that by doing some good, he will be able to make up for all the pain and chaos he and the rest of the 332nd caused as the Thing in the Storm.

-Sequels Era-

The Auction - Aoife a semi-omniscient gal completely out of her element, is tossed into a rather unexpected misadventure when she stumbles upon a black market auction that has a rather pricey and rare treasure among many stolen goods: A clone trooper frozen in carbonite. Unwilling to just let this slide, Aoife reluctantly bites off more than she can chew in her attempt to do the right thing.

A Colossal Conundrum - Having managed to successfully thaw out Hardcase (a clone that should very much not be alive) and explained to him that he has woken up 30 years in the future, Aoife has very few options when it comes to getting him medical attention as neither of them have a credit to spare between them. Undeterred by carbonite sickness or even the poorly treated burns he's saddled with from his stunt in Umbara, Hardcase attempts to break away and help himself. This in turn ends with them both stowing away in a supply ship that is headed straight for a Space Station known simply as the Colossus.

Friend or Foe? - While doing their best to get by while doing small jobs for Captain Doza on the Colossus, Hardcase and Aoife come across a few friendly faces who seem to be familiar with the nearly forgotten clone army. These new allies are certainly comforting to have around (especially for Hardcase who is still adjusting to being without his brothers), but they seem to be keeping tabs on something that is happening behind closed doors. Something that has to do with the new hotshot pilot/mechanic that Jerek Yeager has taken in...

Adrift in a Galaxy Far Far Away - With the Colossus on the move and Kaz's ties to the Resistance becoming all but confirmed, Hardcase is struggling with just sitting around doing nothing while Aoife's mind seems elsewhere. A certain Kel Dor mechanic decides to step in and try to help the antsy clone make up his mind, while a mysterious child that seems aware of Aoife's odd circumstances begins to follow her around like a shadow.

Ah! Pirates! - A chance run in with the Crimson Corsair reveals what it was that was bothering Aoife so much: The fact she knew Hardcase was not the very last clone, and that she wasn't entirely sure how to bring it up with him because she did not know how to track down the other living clone trooper. A little upset with her but not one to hold a grudge, Hardcase quickly reassures his friend that he's not mad at her for not telling him sooner (after all what good would it have done if he'd known and been unable to find his brother?). Both end up making a vow to both find a way to find Kix and to find a way to get Aoife back home. Which means both finding a way to track down and contact the Meson Martinet and her crew, as well as find someone who may or may not know something about what exactly brought Aoife into this particular universe.

Seeing Double - When a seemingly charming merchant comes to the Colossus on a business venture, things turn a little sideways when a supposed pirate appears and begins causing trouble for the Space Station. Teaming up with Kaz and the Aces, Hardcase and Aoife attempt to scare off the pirate, only to instead find out that not everything is as it seems. The clone army may slowly be falling into obscurity, but various bits and pieces of their history have value and Hardcase would rather die than let them fall into the hands of those who hold no respect for his vode or their culture.

Triple Brotherly Reunion - Dominik keeps up with his end of the deal he made with Hardcase and Aoife, and gets them a meeting with the crew of the Meson Martinet. While on their way to the meeting spot in Takodana, the duo is followed and seemingly hunted by something that keeps scaring off the local fauna... Hardcase and Kix are about to find yet another impossible remnant of the past, while Aoife slowly realizes that nothing is as black and white or set in stone as she's been lead to believe. Not even what should be considered the "canon events" of a universe.

Supporting Cast

#star wars #the clone wars #the bad batch #sequels era #Forceful Intervention AU #au masterpost

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