#and they played scout and i had to stop myself from stimming

[fictionallyinparadise]

Scout's voice brings me such serotonin it isn't funny. He says the most fuckin stupid shit and I go "hehe!!!" and kick my legs and smile like a dumbass 😭

[spectraspecs-writes]

Kashyyyk - Chapter 72 (Jolee)

Link to the masterpost. Chapter 71. Chapter 73

@averruncusho @ceruleanrainblues @chubbsmomma thank you for reading, you get a tag. @skelelexiunderlord thank you for support, you get a tag.

--------------

Oh my god, I’m in love with Carth.

But that’s okay, I can deal with it. We have an important job to do and we can’t afford to waste any time. Any second of wasted time is a second that Malak gets closer to wiping out the Republic. Maybe when we’re in a more secure place I can mention it to him, then…

Yeah, like that conversation will work out. “Hi Carth, I know you’re still mourning your dead wife, I just thought you should know I’m in love with you and want to spend the rest of my life with you. Also you’re sexy as hell and I’ve kind of wanted to do you since Taris. Okay, have a nice day.” Spectacular, Rena. Because that’s going to work out.

And that’s even assuming that he feels anywhere close to the same way. If he does, we can salvage a friendship at the very least. If he doesn’t, then that’s it. End of the road. We’d be too embarrassed to spend any time with each other in any context. And frankly the notion that he might feel exactly the same way is even more terrifying. Because it’s not like I’ve never dated team partners before. I’ve had relationships, with and without sex, with members of my scouting teams before. But those relationships rarely went beyond that particular mission, and when they did we ended up getting sick of each other really quickly. But this feels different than those feelings, those relationships. The Twi’leks, the dewback herder - with them and the rest, I guess it was situational. We were put into a situation and clung to each other. Maybe it’s different here? I mean, on Taris we were kind of forced together into a situation. He helped me get off the Endar Spire, we got stuck looking for Bastila. But we easily could have parted ways on Dantooine. And we aren’t sick of each other yet. It just feels completely different and I don’t know what to do about it.

I certainly can’t sleep anymore. But Bastila and Canderous are still asleep, the sun isn’t anywhere close to up yet. So there’s not really anything I can do right now except meditate, which is boring as hell. But, better than just sitting here in the dark doing nothing at all while my brain obsesses over Carth, right? So I give it a shot.

“My, my,” I hear Jolee say softly, “you really are impatient. Can’t even sleep straight through the night, hmm?”

“I don’t sleep well,” I say simply, reflexively. He hums curiously. “What happened to your beauty sleep?”

“Don’t make fun of your elders,” he says, teasing me. He pauses, looking at me. “Got something on your mind?”

“Dude, I’ve already got Bastila in my head, I don’t need another Jedi in there.”

“Who said anything about being in your head?” he says, “When you’ve lived as long as I have, you learn to recognize a look of frustration on a woman’s face.”

“Frustrated a lot of women, have you?”

“What a sharp wit!” he says, then he looks at Bastila and Canderous (who have unconsciously turned to each other in their sleep.) “Why don’t we talk outside?” he says, “Let them sleep.” So I get up and follow him out.

It’s stopped raining, but a few drops of water still fall from the trees. I inject another of Canderous’s allergy stims before my head gets too fuzzy. Jolee looks at it curiously. “Turns out I’m allergic to the wroshyr trees,” I explain, “Weird, huh?”

“Ah, so that’s why you want to get off this planet so badly,” he says, “Can’t say I blame you.” We stand in silence for a bit. “So, what’s on your mind?”

“It’s honestly not that big a deal.”

“Big enough for you to sit up and try to meditate.”

“I’m a Jedi! Jedi meditate!”

He scoffs in laughter. “I’m not so easily fooled by your half-assed excuses,” he says, “I’m old and I’ve seen too much of the galaxy to fall for the lies of a kid like you.”

I mean, he’s right. “Yeah,” I say under my breath, “Carth said I’m a lousy liar.”

“He’s right.”

I sigh. “If I tell you, you have to promise not to tell Bastila,” I say, “She’d be furious and self-righteous about it.”

“You have my word,” he says. And it feels earnest.

I don’t know, though, I still feel really nervous about it. And I feel like saying it out loud will make it too real and I’ll have to confront it a lot sooner than I want to. Right now it is perfectly safe in my head, existing only as an idea. “Okay, so there’s this… friend of mine,” I say. I can already tell Jolee knows I’m stretching the truth again, but he lets it go. “And my friend was telling me about this dream she had, where she was with this guy on a planet…”

“What planet?”

What? “I don’t know, what difference does it make?”

Jolee shrugs. “I don’t know, you tell me! A planet like Mustafar would be different from a planet like Naboo.”

“I’ll have to take your word for it,” I say, “but it was a nice planet, I guess, plains ecosystem from what I could tell.”

He sort of nods. “And just what were you doing on this planet?”

“My friend,” I emphasize, “and the guy were just… hanging out, having… fun. The kind of fun I… she hasn’t had in a long time.” Jolee sort of smiles softly. “But then there was an accident, she was hurt. In the dream, I mean. Legs busted up, big cut on her head, and she told him to go, come back for her, but… he stayed. And it was perfect.”

“Mm-hmm,” he says neutrally, “And you’re curious what it means, hmm?”

“Oh, I know what it means, it’s just… saying it out loud makes it… too real.”

“For your friend.”

“For my friend.” He gives a little nod. “I mean, this really isn’t the time for things like that, is it? I mean, whole galaxy is in danger, an entire way of life under threat, and in the middle of all that - it’s ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous, perhaps,” he says, “The wrong time? Never.”

“I suppose you’ve got an opinion on the subject.”

“I’m old, I’m entitled to a few opinions,” he grumbles, “If it makes you - and your friend - feel better, I’ve been in the same situation. And come out the other side. Far better to have it, in my experience.”

I shake my head a little. “Is that why you’ve decided to tag along, then?” I ask, “To give relationship advice to Padawans?”

“It could be for the free food,” he suggests, “Or the riveting late-night conversation.”

I snicker. “You’re my kind of guy,” I say. I love the way he plays and teases. Keeping up with me quip for quip. “Seriously, though,” I say. 

“I’m old, dammit!” he says, “I'm allowed to be enigmatic when I want to be, and don't go telling me otherwise.” Wouldn’t dream of it. “You know, you remind me of someone else I knew ages ago. Pleasant enough fellow, great destiny, all of that. Breath like a bantha.”

“Yeah, you don’t smell so great, yourself.”

“Bah!” He whacks me lightly. “Anyway, where was I? Oh, yes. Andor Vex, was his name. The Force swirled around him like a hurricane, that's how great his destiny was.”

“It’s not a name I’m familiar with.”

“No, you wouldn't be,” he says, “Sometimes swirling Force is just swirling Force. It gets us old Jedis excited at our age so we go ‘ooo, destiny!’” I snicker again. “Well, it turned out that poor Andor believed a wee bit too much in the infallibility of that destiny. That overconfidence turned out to be his downfall.”

“It usually is,” I say, “Is there a point to this story, here?”

“Does it have to have a point?” he asks rhetorically, “I thought we were just talking about Andor. Is something wrong with your attention span?”

“So they tell me.”

“Let's see… oh, yes. Andor's downfall. I was pretty young, myself, when it happened. At the time, I thought that Andor's destiny couldn't be more boring,” he says, “I was just about to abandon Andor to whatever the Force intended for him when his ship was overtaken by a Dimean warship. Now, you've probably never heard of the Dimeans, but at the time they were a nasty lot led by a nastier overlord named Kraat. Tall fellow. Big teeth. Kraat has us hauled onto the bridge of his ship for questioning, and that's when I knew that Andor's destiny was at hand.”

“Got a sense for that, do you?”

“Swirling Force, remember? Jedi here? Granted, I was just interpreting the signs, but we get trained in that sort of thing. More or less.” He gives a little shrug. “Well, Andor decides that his destiny makes him invulnerable and starts making all sorts of demands. Free me now, I'm not answering questions, blah blah blah.” I do enjoy how he tells stories. “Don't you know who I am? Kraat decides he's had enough and begins crushing Andor's neck. I told the boy he should have kept his mouth shut. I think he agreed, too… or those could have just been gurgling noises. Well… well, anyway. Finally, Kraat has enough of Andor and tosses him aside into this giant energy intake shaft. Andor gets sucked in and starts bouncing around, screaming.” Hell of a thing to laugh about, Jolee. But I have to admit, the image is funny. “Maybe Andor hit something sensitive on the way down or just didn't agree with the reactor core, next thing I know all the ship's alarms are ringing.”

“No. Way.”

“Everyone panics and I run, barely making it to the ship in time before the explosion. Kraat dies horribly, and the Dimeans never quite recovered. Changed the political course of the entire sector for centuries to come. I'd call that quite a destiny, wouldn't you?”

I laugh a little and shake my head. “So what, exactly, does that have to do with you coming with me?”

“Well, hey, the chances may not be great, but when one has the opportunity to see something like that twice in a lifetime…”

I laugh again. “Well, tell you what,” I say, “When I fight Malak, I’ll be sure to bring you with me, so you get that chance, how does that sound?”

“Bah!” he exclaims, “Don’t do me any favors.”

We both sit and sigh. I rub my nose a bit. “How long until sunrise, anyway?”

“Do I look like a clock to you?” he objects teasingly, and he scoffs. 

“Well, you know, don’t you?”

He sighs. “One or two hours,” he says.

“Thank you.” I thought it was later than that. Or earlier. I don’t know, which word fits better? Guess Bastila and Canderous will be awake before too long. I wonder how they’ll react when they find out they’ve turned to each other in their sleep…

I head back inside. Dammit, Bastila rolled over.