#clonexocweek2025 day 5

[crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf]

Cross X Tahny - Future

The future of Cross X Tahny is yet to be decided but there's been a few ideas on what a post credits look for them might be...

Probably a little...

Crosshair growing out his mane and sporting a Ga'haiian braid. His ring sports grey threads for the batch, teal for the diamond dolls, and gold for Tahny alone. They bear each others marks, Cross with a tiny diamond behind his ear, and Tah'nyem with his Crosshair emblazed over her sternum... right where he put it.

Excerpt from Disgrace Chapter 7:

There was a slight burning sensation against my sternum and I looked down to see him tracing lines on my skin with the end of a toothpick. Same pattern, over and over, etching a red symbol into my chest. A circle, then a cross through it.  “You're an artist now?” He didn't answer, nor stop his work.  Circle, long vertical line, short horizontal line, circle.  “Right over my heart?”

Maybe Even Someday...

If they named the kid traditionally it would have been Cross'nyem, which Tahny hated. They also wanted something that sounded more "clone-y". Good thing they don't live on Ga'ha where he not only would be teased for having a "girls name" ... that and his Ga'haiian Calico pattern. (not me making up complicated linguistic rules just to break them lel)

More than Likely though...

You can't ignore the death wish that clings to these two. Settling into a quiet life isn't really them.

We'll Just Have to See, Won't We?

Bonus: Hunter's reaction to a Cross X Tahny pregnancy

This is officially the last post I drew with a mouse, lol.

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@clonexocweek @feral-ferrule @vimse @kaytunez @substantial-exposure

[eclec-tech]

Pairing: Crosshair x OC Luvari Tulren, GAR psychologist Ship Name: Crossvari

Crosshair divider by @stars-n-spice

“Would you ever want another kid?”

Luvari looked up from the article she was reading to send her husband a questioning look. “I have one little boy attached to my chest, and we just got the other one to bed after getting noodles out of both of his ears. Are you seriously asking me NOW if I want another one?”

Crosshair shrugged. “Asking when you’re exhausted and stressed will give me the most honest answer.”

“Hmm.” Luvari ran the backs of her fingers over the tiny blue cheek at her breast. “Good point. You don’t think two is enough?”

“Two is perfect.” He glanced over at the toddler resting angelically in the small bed in the corner of their bedroom, and his voice went soft. “Forget I mentioned it.”

Luvari stared at Crosshair’s face. Her uncanny ability to read facial expressions and body language got a genuine workout when it came to him, but there was something in the ever-so-slight way his eyebrows were raised that told her that forgetting he mentioned it would be a mistake. “Cross?”

Crosshair sighed, his voice shrinking to a whisper. “I missed all of it, Vari.”

“What do you mean?”

He crossed the room to sit beside her and their newborn son on the bed and cupped his hand around the little mass of silver curls. “I was only here for the last few days of your pregnancy with Genet. We adopted Bilyk. I didn’t get to do what husbands are supposed to do.”

“You did exactly what other husbands do. That’s how we ended up with Genet,” Luvari teased.

“That’s not what I meant,” Crosshair returned with a smirk. “I wasn’t here to help you. I didn’t get to watch your belly grow or be here when you felt the first kick.”

“We were on the run,” she reminded him gently. “Considering how enormous the galaxy is, it’s incredible that you made it back in time to welcome the little sniper at all. We were lucky.”

“You’re not wrong, but it still bothers me that I missed so much.”

“It wasn’t all magical firsts. You also missed the vomiting and non-stop complaining.”

Crosshair huffed a small laugh. “It would have been worth it. For me. Clones weren’t meant to have families. This…” He gestured between the two of them and at their two little sons. “This wasn’t supposed to happen for us. You can’t blame me for wanting more of it now that I have it.”

Luvari could see the regret and vulnerability in her husband’s face. “Are you saying you want us to have another baby so you can be part of the pregnancy?” she asked slowly.

There was a twinkle in Crosshair’s eyes as they met his wife’s. “Not only for that reason and not right away, but I haven’t ruled out the possibility. What about you?”

Luvari smiled softly. “I might be persuaded to try for a third—after these two are ‘fresher trained.”

Crosshair glanced at the pile of unused nappies in reserve off to the side and chuckled softly. “Obviously.”

[orangez3st]

Coruscant's Bests: Under Pressure

Entry to @clonexocweek - 02.14.25: Future | Event Masterlist

↤ Prev [Wolffe × Nico] | ↤ Prev [Fox × Lesiil] | Part 5 of 5

Tags & Warnings: established relationship, star wars swear words (no irl foul language), criminal investigation, graphic description of victim’s body (just bits heh, pun intended), mentions of suicide, mostly conversations, fluff, comfort Character(s): Fox, Lesiil (OC), Wolffe, Nico (OC), BD-6 (Lesiil’s droid), side OC’s (Eisen, Veeli, Titus) Pairing(s): Wolffe × Nico, Fox × Lesiil Word Count: 10.9k A/N: Surprise crossover! For [Wolffe × Nico]’s part, this can be perfectly read as a standalone. But if you're here by [Fox × Lesiil]’s part, this is gonna be a really big spoiler for [Wolffe × Nico]’s story. Go check them out starting here if you're interested! Ah and, the ‘Future’ theme is for [Fox/Lesiil] bcs this is quite a(n unspecified) time skip since the Corrie Butcher case. Mostly this'll be Fox's POV. Also I'm serving a little LesFox fluff 🥹 Additional warning (also a note as to why I don't mark this as NSFW): There's only a pinch of implied sexual acts (worded as “it”) due to the NSFW happening in Wolffe's previous installment. Other than that, the rest of this fic is completely SFW (but do mind the tags above before reading below).

“Ocean spirits give me strength,” Eisen sighs. He pauses for a moment, planting both hands on his hips. “As much as I don't like him, this is straight up grotesque. Poor guy.”

His attention remains fixated on the bloodied pavement where there's a pile of… unrecognizable chunks of someone.

He wouldn't narrate further to himself. Instead, he squeezes his eyes close, his tendrils flicking in discomfort, and turns his body slightly around to face one wall of the tent.

CSF was called in merely seconds after the incident, a flurry of panicked comm calls flooding their emergency line. And one report from police droids on patrol later, the purple Nautolan detective is assigned as lead investigator. Apparently, it turns out to be another high-profile case. Of someone high-profile too, because the body belongs to Shon Vatore, an A-list actor and filmmaker nominated for Osk’arr Awards tonight.

He’d cheer if only the scene wasn't so gnarly.

“Keeping up with the gossip column, Detective?” one of the crime scene analysts strikes up a conversation.

Eisen had ended up walking towards the tent entrance anyway, not wanting to stay a second longer and trample around the area where the body is. “Oh you know me. Always up to date with this kind of thing!” he lightly responds, half-exclaiming. “I’ll be outside if you need me. I can't look at this, sorry. Too much for me.”

He’d been keeping up with the Osk'arr Awards that streamed live while working on some flimsiwork at his desk back at the station. Once he got home, he was just about to sprawl on his worn couch for late night bites with holos and chill when the Inspector rang him. Now his appetite is completely nonexistent.

Coruscant tonight reeks with tragedy and loss. It had been a night of glamour and celebration with all those celebrities attending the awards, but now the entire street where the official after-party was held is closed off and empty. Perimeters are set to prevent the media breathing down their necks. Police officers and on-site investigators, droids and natborns alike, scatter on and about their own businesses.

Before he can march away to help asking the witnesses, his personal commlink beeps of an incoming call. Once reading the name of the caller, he brightens up with a massive toothy grin splitting his face.

“Hey there, partner! What's up?”

“Evening, Eisen. Sorry to disrupt your work,” Lesiil's pleasant voice comes through, and he swears he can hear claps and cheers from the audience somewhere beyond the fourth wall. “Would you mind if I cut to the chase?”

Her urgent tone catches him off guard. “Uh yeah, sure sure.” He moves to a spot on the street that no one walks by. “What's this about?”

“With the ceaseless expression of tearful shock coming from my classmate combined with the Inspector giving me a call, I assume your team needs my help?”

He stares blankly at the pavement before pacing around. “Back up Les, I think I lost you. Inspector called you?”

“Oh, so you weren't told yet, then,” Lesiil is heard mumbling, sounding as confused as he is, before continuing carefully, “Yes, he did. The high-profile case that's taking over the holonews right now?”

“You mean the pile of mangled flesh and bone in white and gold Arrrma’ni? Oh yeah.” As an avid entertainment follower, he of course kept up with the red carpet stills– “Wait, what the heck are you– your help, Les? But you already resigned!”

“Inspector told me that Chief told him to close this case as fast as it was cracked open. I am to provide counsel in this case, so I'm acting consulting detective,” she elaborates calmly, “This case is highly risky to be let simmer too long as it could affect the Motion Picture Academy's public image in the coming future. If we could close this tomorrow, we should.” A pause, her tone growing lighter as she adds, “Chief's words, all that. Not mine.”

“Yeah I'd say this is tragic,” Eisen agrees, taking the information thoroughly to be put into later flimsiwork, “But there's a part of the galaxy that's probably celebrating right now.”

“How do you mean?”

“Right, I forgot you're not into films. You might wanna catch up to it since you're in this case anyway.” He refrains from rolling his eyes due to respect, and that Lesiil had worked with him for a long time. “Might as well brief you about the victim. Shon Vatore, Nic Erlonna’s toxic ex boyfriend. Both A-list actors. Broke up a year ago, made headlines ‘cause they were this dreamy power couple, okay? I shipped them too. But when the truth came out, I couldn't even look at this guy's face anymore. Pantoran charms, but all rotten inside. He was just the worst of the worst.”

“I see,” Lesiil solemnly says, humming. “And this Nic Erlonna? I have heard about her. Fox told me she's in relationship with Commander Wolffe.”

Eisen isn't surprised. “Yeah. You know Wolffe?”

“Of course. He was Railuu’s battalion commander. Good man, that Wolffe.”

“Right? They're so in love. Nicolffe, I mean.”

“It seems so!” She clears her throat. “Well, as much as I'd love to stay on the comm, I have an academic urgency coming up tomorrow so I'm unable to be out there with you. How about you take Beedee in my stead?”

For absolutely not comical purposes Eisen takes a look around cautiously before asking into the commlink, “Isn't that going against Chief's orders?”

“I will handle the consequences. I’m sure there's an alibi I can use since my study in law school is ongoing. This is called going around the rules, Eisen,” Lesiil says, as if she'd already planned this through before comming him, “And BD-6 is as good as me with his scans. Don't forget he's modified specifically as a competent crime scene analyst.” A little pause. “Isn’t that right, Beedee?”

A familiar trill goes through the comm.

Eisen melts a little inside. “I miss Beedee,” he nearly pouts. “Yeah okay, I'll take him down here. But I can't pick him up, I have to stay here.”

“Have one of the officers come by to my apartment, then?”

No. Not since one of the cases they handled together before Lesiil got assigned to the Coruscant Guard where BD-6 was badly damaged by a suspect because these officers couldn't give a shit to watch out for the droid's wellbeing. Eisen’s trust dwindles to their own police officers since then just a little because, well, they're the men of the unit. He needs to work with them. Just not trusting them with Lesiil's droid, is all.

“Ooohh I have a better idea.” He bites his lip to prevent himself from smiling. “And you'll definitely agree with me on this one, Les.”

[STATEMENT] It's been a while since I'm out at night.

Fox glances back and forth, between the binary translation transcript that hovers in one corner of his HUD (a generous modification by Thire) and BD-6, who's clinging to his backplate and the gap between his shoulder bell, the droid’s rectangular head looming over his shoulder. “A while?” he asks.

[STATEMENT] Lesiil goes home from her classes on the dot. Never have an evening out either.

Beneath his helmet, Fox sighs. “Why am I not surprised.”

He parks his speeder a block away due to the set perimeter for the entire street, and now he's forced to reach destination by foot.

Thinking about Lesiil and warm nights shared together – once or twice or perhaps thrice a week if he's not cramped up with senatorial demands and planet-wide security – makes his chest blooming with warmth. They've been together for months now, and everything is looking steady, personal boundaries kept as it is, their relationship tinged with mutual care and love for each other. He's never touched this phase of a relationship before, and overall it always feels special.

And such fact there is, it makes him sometimes turn to relationship advices. To Wolffe. To Bly. Heck, even the holoarticles in the net that's written by evident hopeless romantics who works three part time jobs to survive. It all seems sensible, but it always leaves him uncertain of what he'll do again, and the cycle always goes like that. Lesiil never complains or demands too much, as they, undeniably and excessively, buried under either work or projects.

Fox deliberately snails his pace along the dimmed pavement that's sparse of people yet, blue and purple lights of the planet that never sleeps reflecting on his armor and Beedee’s casings. “You think I should… take her out somewhere?”

Look at him. Now asking a droid for relationship stuff, out of all people.

[STATEMENT] You should, Mister Fox!

He chuckles lowly at the name, keeping his volume out of his helmet low. He'd insisted to omit the mister but the beskar’ad pretended not to listen. “Yeah? Any ideas?”

[QUERY] How about a nice restaurant topside?

Fox gloomily turns his head away from the pavement before him and the droid altogether, as if he could just unhear that statement by doing so. “I don't think I can afford that, Beedee.”

[STATEMENT] I don't think she cares.

He'd been here, but he indulges the beskar'ad anyway. “Yeah?”

[STATEMENT] She only cares how you would just be with her, Mister Fox.

“You're really sure about that.”

[STATEMENT] I am! I know her longer than you, Mister Fox.

Wolffe told him to always please the lady first with his own efforts. Or at least, if they insist and he can't do anything to stop the strong will of a woman.

Like Wolffe's own situation.

Lesiil fails to bring this up, but he pays it no mind. Perhaps the talk will have to come soon; to clear out any possible discomfort and awkwardness, and to provide more clarity and chances for initiation cues.

He's slowed his pace on purpose but once the edge of the perimeter slides into view, Fox picks it up, shifting to speed walks.

“I'll keep that in mind, Beedee. Thank you. Now we've got work to do.”

To make up for wasted time on his accord to talk to his girlfriend's droid wingman about taking her out, BD-6 lets out a small whoop, clinging tighter onto whatever ridge and gap his armor supplies as Fox breaks into a jog towards the central tent. 

Until one of the police droids strides in and halt their endeavors.

“Stop.” It raises both hands as if showing it won't cause harm, too. “You are not authorized to be here. Turn the other way and disperse immediately.”

Fox steps forward challengingly. “Former Detective Lesiil Thrace. We're here in her stead. This is her crime scene analyst droid BD-6, whose presence is explicitly requested by the case's lead investigator. Now you go check that again.”

It shifts its attention almost dumbly at Fox's pointing forefinger at it, before stilling on him. He gets a bad feeling about that.

“Non-sentient organic lifeform; detected. Classification: clone. You are not authorized to be here. Please disperse immediately.”

[STATEMENT] This is Marshal Commander CC-1010 of the Coruscant Guard. We have authorization!

Yeah you tell ‘em Beedee. Atta boy.

“Oi! I did let them in, droid!” A familiar voice shouts in a distance, and grows nearer followed by hasty stomps of boots. “I swear whoever handles your control center deserves a proper ear off.” 

[EXCLAMATION] Eisen!

A wide grin forms in the face of the purple Nautolan detective as he draws nearer, his towering and muscular stature almost puts Fox in a height disadvantage. With a sharp look to the police perimeter droid and a bat of the hand to shoo it off a couple meters to the side, it's almost comical. Proceeding to shut the narrower perimeter barricade ray shields that acts as the entryway, Eisen ushers them in and smiles again at BD-6. “Hey! Long time no see, little guy!”

They reconvene with a high-five.

[STATEMENT] Good to see you too!

“Commander Fox.” Eisen nods at him, who's been waiting patiently (BD-6 was loud with his trills and happy and Fox didn’t want to interrupt the joyful reunion), and clasps his forearm in greeting. “Thank you for taking Lesiil’s place, sir. Sorry to disrupt whatever your schedule is tonight.”

Fox reins in a shrug, his hands go behind his back. “In need of an outing anyway.” He wished tonight is a patrol night and not spreadsheets. “Just not expecting a murder crime scene.”

Making a way towards the center tent, Eisen beckons them to follow. He raises a finger. “So far the term's only limited to ‘crime scene’ only. No confirmation yet – we just got here and got these set up – whether this is self-inflicted or that somebody else is involved…” The Nautolan huffs a big sigh. “But yeah. Dead body, either way.”

“What's Lesiil got to do with this?” Fox asks. “She's not in CSF anymore.”

It's been burning in his mind. When he picked up BD-6 from her apartment, they didn't have much time for Lesiil to fill him in – just a promise that he'll drop BD-6 tomorrow morning before her classes when he makes rounds and a parting kiss.

“She’s ad hoc consulting detective to this case now. With that brilliant mind and top-of-the-world expertise, our Chief asked for her personally so this case is to be closed as soon as possible.”

I mean… she solved the Corrie Butcher case within one kriffing week.

“Outsource, freelance, third-party sort of thing,” Eisen continues to fill Fox in. “That means she has the power to help us in the investigation, limited to analyzing crime scenes and doing investigations of her own with the lead investigator's permit – that's me. And knowing me and Lesiil's partnership history, I'll just let her do what she does. Convenient.”

Behind his helmet, Fox lets out a noise of impression. Never know they've got something like this.

“The position also enables her to be present in court as a witness to testify and present her findings,” the detective supplies additionally, then switches to mumbling as if to himself, “If this ever gets there.”

Fox has made himself aware of the situation before getting here. BD-6 filled him in during the speeder ride. Osk'arr Awards after-party celebration turned to tragedy and loss when one of the nominees allegedly leapt off the rooftop and went splat on the pavement. Wolffe's girlfriend’s ex boyfriend. And emphasis on ‘allegedly’, because who knows it could've been murder?

Eisen flips over one flap of the massive tent for Fox and BD-6 to peer in. Said splat is… absolutely unrecognizable. There's a patch of blue and white, but the entirety is just… broken limbs, chunks of it, a massive blood splatter, and probably 50 or so bright yellow markers because of just how messy it is.

80 floors, he's heard. What the kriff.

BD-6 taps one leg against his shoulder bell repeatedly as if sensing his freeze response upon the stomach-churning sight.

“I can't take you closer in there, or else we have to put on hazmat suits,” Eisen says.

Fox takes in a deep breath and turns away, though his feet remain glued to the ground. “We can see just fine from here.” He switches off the HUD's zoom-in features and sighs deeply.

“BD-6!” one of the analysts beckons the beskar'ad with an enthusiastic wave of the hand, “Come over here! We need to sterilize you first before you get right into scanning!”

[STATEMENT] Coming!

“Can’t take it, sir?” remarks Eisen, a little too amusedly for Fox's liking. The Nautolan watches him bend down slightly so BD-6 can hop down safely and scurry off to the main scene. “I thought you guys have the stomach for it.”

Fox's helmeted glare intensifies the deadpan gesture itself. “Inspecting a grotesque crime scene isn't exactly in the Coruscant Guard's job description, Detective.”

“Right,” Eisen acknowledges with a small smile, sighing again as he takes the scene one last time. They move away from the tent, falling into a relaxed pace yet remaining cautious. “And to be honest, this is the goriest I've seen in my entire career.”

“Carry on, Detective,” prompts Fox, authority returning back to his cadence. “Anything I should know so I may fill in your consulting detective?”

Eisen sighs, casting a sidelong glance at him. “Not much yet. Witness statements are still pouring in. Once we collect everything I'll send all to Lesiil for her to skim through. Maker knows she loves doing that.” He claps his hands and rubs them together. “So. From what we've gathered, Nic and Wolffe made an early exit. She looked pretty shaken. Witnesses saw them coming out of the lift, presumably from the rooftop, where allegedly Shon took the fall from. We're still trying to get security footage.”

The mention of Wolffe's name halts Fox in his steps.

No karking way.

Wolffe hasn't always been known as the nicest in the batch – that's Bly and Rex. Wolffe is blunt and direct with everyone he sees, but never violent. There ain't a single bone in his body that'd harm someone to the point of actually killing them.

But what he knows about Wolffe, protectiveness is his second nature. There's no other man who checks in and bonds with his squad like he is. Maybe he takes too much after his General with all the Jedi's paternal love, but it's the value that latches itself onto Wolffe's very personality. Wolffe could never kill another, especially with vengeful motives, if following the fact that the victim is his girlfriend’s ex. It's petty, and Wolffe would never do it without reason. The worst thing he's done and can do is learning droid mechanics with the sole wish of reprogramming a yapping droid that'd make his ears combust inside out if he ever finds one.

“Words spread, and they're divided into two,” Eisen continues, “One said he ended his own life, the other said Nic pushed him off.”

“That's ridiculous.”

“Right?” the other man echoes his genuine disbelief, “I swear, there's only two types of people in the galaxy; Nic stans and Nic haters.”

“She wouldn't do this,” Fox insists, agreeing on Eisen's part. To put it bluntly, it seems obvious the detective does believe this incident is entirely self-inflicted (as obvious that the detective is also a big fan of the entertainment industry). “Based on what I've learned about her.”

Eisen hums. “How much?”

“Enough.”

Actually; a lot. Quite a lot. Wolffe is closest to him, both are each other's confidantes, and Nic Erlonna drops by once or twice to CG Headquarters.

“We need to question Nic, too. Hoping she wouldn't lawyer up. This must've been shocking.”

Fox rolls his shoulders back in newfound determination, turning to Eisen. “What do you want us to do?”

In the detective's hand is a datapad that seems to manifest out of nowhere. What the heck.

“We've found a set of fingerprints on the body… on the not bloody patch of skin, thankfully… and we're trying to match it with our database. Since we've determined our persons of interest are Nic Erlonna and Commander Wolffe as of now, we need to figure out if this is self-inflicted or premeditated murder.”

Eisen fixes a look at him that seems somehow hesitant, almost feeling bad, perhaps at the mention of person of interest followed by Wolffe's name. Perhaps the other man knows how close he is to Wolffe, due to Lesiil's unique connections with them all. Fox challengingly accepts the staring contest, the expression conveyed enough by the blank visor of his crimson helmet.

”And we were thinking… since you and Lesiil are close to him, we'd like you to approach them as soon as possible to gain information for the sake of this case,” the lead investigator settles, “We’ve reached Nic's PA and we'll make sure you'll be hearing something in the morning. Starting now, you have 24 hours.”

“How's mock trial goin’?”

Entering the lobby of the most lavish apartment building in the heart of Coruscant, not only Lesiil was still adorned in formal attire that one would wear in the courtroom, but with the sweetheart smile Fox always adores with every single beat of his heart, too. Yet as soon as he made that comment with the smuggest grin, her shoulders visibly slump.

“Please don't tease me like that, cyare,” she huffs, plopping down next to him on the plush lobby couch. “I have studied all night for the session to be postponed until Zhellday. And I missed Shon Vatore's crime scene last night for absolutely nothing. Can you believe that?”

Yeah, but his heart is melting to the way the Mando'a word for beloved rolls off her tongue flawlessly. He's still lost in how the early morning sun that pierces through the window casts a certain godlike glow onto her being. He doesn't even know what the word godlike is supposed to depict, but he's certain his beloved (even being grumpy) is an accurate depiction.

Lesiil pokes his armored thigh.

“I can,” Fox answers finally, his arm that's been splaying over the back of the couch sliding downwards to drape over her shoulders. “But you got enough sleep?”

“Mhm.”

“And you sure this is okay with your school?”

Uncomfortable with the motion, Lesiil shrugs off his arm and scoots a further back. “It will not hinder me.” She hooks her forefinger with his instead. “Chief sent me a permit letter and I've sent it to administration. We should be doing fine, I have it handled. The concern is unnecessary.”

Fox snorts. “Just asking, Les’ika.” Stars, sometimes he just wants to kiss her into the nearby wall so she'd just kriffing shut up. The last two sentences were unnecessary. “I can't even start small talks with you when all you're doing is slamming my commander’s concerned ass back down?”

Lesiil smiles apologetically. “Forgive me then, Marshal,” she says genuinely without the slightest bite of sarcasm. Then she slightly turns and reaches down, holding up an overnight pac– wait, that's his. “I brought you this.”

As soon as he grabs and unzips the reserve regulation pack he stows at hers, he peers inside and finds his crimson red dress shirt and grey trousers. “Civvies? These are yours?”

“Yours, you silly,” Lesiil laughs quietly, knowing full well he's cracking a joke. “I imagine we'll be doing a lot of talking and sitting down on a plush couch that's fluffier and way pricier than mine that it's going to make you uncomfortable, and I don't want to have your armor digging into the spot where the twin suns of Tatooine don't shine.”

Fox chokes on air and coughs violently into his elbow.

“Commander Fox and Detective Thrace?”

He hurriedly zips his pack close and gathers his discarded helmet. “Ah, that will be us.” His cyare gets to her feet first, patting her formal outerwear down and stepping forward to greet the actress’ personal assistant because kriffing finally. “But for my part, it's Former Detective.”

The red Mikkian lady in business attire reciprocates the gesture with equal professional demeanor, and shakes Lesiil’s hand. “Of course, apologies for that bit.” She shakes Fox's afterward. “Pleased to meet you. And call me Veeli. If you would follow me, please.”

They're led further into the building. Inside, the smell of luxury fragrance grows stronger, something that Fox would always encounter when entering one of the offices that belong to fat-pocketed senators. That, and the light elevator music that's slightly goofy for Fox's taste.

“On behalf of CSF, I would like to apologize for intruding on the muse’s schedule this morning,” Lesiil says in the middle of the silence.

“That's okay,” Veeli replies curtly, her narrow tendrils floating and flicking every once in a while. “She's empty at the moment.”

Fox, stashing himself in the back of the elevator out of habit, has his eyes intent on the ever adding floor indicator. “Is Wolffe up there?”

“He is,” the assistant replies without looking back at him, “He stayed the night to look after her.”

“That's very kind,” Lesiil comments, and the brief conversation ends there when they reach the designated floor. Not penthouse yet, Fox notices. He adjusts his grip on his pack, the weight awkward due to the folded clothes where the vast space provided is supposedly to fit his entire kit and backup body gloves. So where are we going?

His internal question is answered as soon as they're led out, met the two bulky natborn bodyguards that man an entrance that leads to yet another corridor. A private one, based on how it feels homey and seems decorated with personal touches. Holoposters of various films hang on beige-painted walls. Soon he realizes they're all the ones Nic Erlonna have been in. A filmography of sorts, a showcase of glory throughout her career, as if reminding the guests that are entering her home.

Then, another elevator ride. There's only three buttons on the panel. Veeli presses the second one, and the doors shut. No music this time since the ride is short, and once they arrive, Fox is already lost in awe at how massive the open floor plan is. Huge floor-to-ceiling window for a first wall, untinted to let the morning sun in. Zero dust. Squeaky clean marble flooring and expensive-looking rugs.

Kriff. Three floors of dwelling. In this huge ass building. Wolffe you spoiled son of a droid.

Veeli ushers them in and has them settled on the main seating area. “Please wait here for a moment. We'll be right back with you in a few.”

It had been quite a few.

Fox groans as soon as he sees Wolffe bounding down the stairs. “There you kriffing are.”

Wolffe, clad in a set of crisp dark silver shirt and trousers that makes him look ready to grab a random guy off a street to force his health insurance company on and would definitely beat them to a pulp if they refuse, scowls. “We just woke up.”

Fox stands and goes to meet the commander in the middle, saying, “Told you we could hear you.” With a shit-eating grin and typical reunion enthusiasm, they share a little tap to the forehead. “Su’cuy, Wolffe. I'm traumatized as kark now thanks to you.” Fox clasps him on the shoulder before letting go. 

Wolffe snorts, mismatched eyes taking a swift once-over at Fox, who's now dressed the same way as him for the sake of comfort, the crimson marshal commander armor stuffed into his pack. “As if you don't do it with your girl.”

“Do what?”

They turn to see Lesiil just pocketing her commlink as she makes her way from around the corner.

Fox scoffs. “Don't play dumb, Les’ika. You heard them going at it too.”

“I prefer playing dumb, actually,” she smiles innocently, studying the presence of the other man and quite visibly brightens up. “Commander Wolffe!” She shakes his offered hand, and Fox can see her almost vibrating with joy. How she's keeping her voice calm, it's a wonder. Royal etiquettes put into work, most likely. “Good to meet you again. I hope I'm not boring to your eyes yet.”

“Never, Thrace. You're a family friend to the 104th.”

“Then call me Lesiil, Commander.”

“Then it's Wolffe,” the man reciprocates with a kinder and welcome tone, his professionalism returning back just a smidge, “And I apologize for the inconvenience.”

Fox lets out a single dry, humorless laugh. “You apologized to her and not me? What am I, gundark meat?”

“Wolffe?!” a female voice yells from upstairs.

The commander scowls, rolling his eyes, before turning around to the direction of the staircase. “Down here!”

A moment later, a head peeks out at the turn of the stairs, platinum blond hair let loose but not messy. Nic Erlonna the actress. Fox studies her eyes briefly scanning over them three. “Um, what's going on?”

“Urgencies we can't ignore this morning,” Wolffe replies curtly, almost dutifully.

A loud sigh. Nico's head disappears from sight. “Okay, but I don't remember having an appointment this early. I didn't put any makeup on!” she yells again, then her full figure comes into view and descends the staircase at last. “Why wasn't I told about this?”

Clad in a simple t-shirt and what seems to be a cotton jogging trousers, the great actress that won so much award in her entire career looks just like a regular civilian (or in Fox's opinion; more like one of those natborn students that oversleeps after working on a project late into the night). Much to her dismay, apparently.

“Just…” Wolffe sighs. “You're fine.” He turns to both Fox and Lesiil. “The assistant let you in?”

The latter nods. “Yes, she did.”

“I swear, Veeli is now running things on her own. I'm scared for my life.” Nico sidles next to Wolffe and does a double take. “Oh. Commander Fox?” She enthusiastically thrusts out a hand in greeting, which he shakes. “Looking dapper with all that getup, Commander. Almost didn't recognize you.”

Fox merely nods, his hand returning to his side. “Ma'am.”

“How are the boys in your HQ?”

“Good, Ma'am.”

“Sorry I look indecent,” she complains mostly to herself once again, gesturing grandly to herself.

Wolffe sneers, “You're dressed and that's enough. Makeup isn't necessary for now.” The commander then beckons for the other woman who's been watching the interaction with a polite smile and a glint of amusement in storm grey eyes. “This is Detective Lesiil Thrace.”

Lesiil clears her throat. “Former Detective.”

“Yeah, that.” He rolls his eyes, though smiling a little, fondly. “This is Nic Erlonna.”

The blonde’s eyebrows raise sky-high in recognition and awe. “Oh, riiight!” Another introduction handshake, one piece of courtesy that Lesiil enjoys so much. “The famed Lesiil Thrace with all those notorious cases? An honor to meet you in person!” Fox bathes himself in pride for his cyare. Nico's grin fades, as if in realization. “But uh, just to be clear; what are you doing here?”

Lesiil lets out a quiet breath. “If I could put this gently without all these pressing deadlines, I would,” she says, “But this is about last night's incident, Miss Erlonna.”

Nico blinks in realization. “Right,” she mutters almost sadly, brightening up and putting on what Fox observes as a forced, pained smile, as if wishing she could stall this nightmare a little longer. “We can talk about it over breakfast?” she offers, gesturing to the side with an arm, to the direction of the dining room.

“Thank you. That's very kind,” Lesiil says with a polite smile, and the four of them collectively make their way. Fox knows he should just follow Lesiil's cues. She's the one who knows how to be a proper guest in someone else's dwelling – after all, he never does. Calling and leading a breach squad to take in an enemy of the state, that's what he does. That's all he knows.

“The least I could do,” Nico easily replies, and they find seating in the grand eight-person dining table. “But I still can't exactly understand why you're here, Detective.” Her tone is curious, not meaning to jab, Fox observes. “You announced your early retirement from police work, right?”

Fox has just finished seating Lesiil – something he'd learned after a couple of dinner dates, before taking one to her right himself. “That's correct,” his cyare answers.

“So?” Nico prompts again, who's already seated in front of Lesiil.

“I am acting as a consulting detective at the moment,” the former detective enunciates, “Meaning I, representing the CSF Criminal Investigations Department, am here to gather information for my own independent investigation so I can forward it to the police for further processing and guide them to solve the case as fast as possible.”

Nico stares long into Lesiil for a moment, taking every word cautiously, the playful glint earlier in olive green eyes had already dissipated. Nodding, as if thinking to herself. It's quiet for a moment. Wolffe and Fox trade a look, but the other man merely shrugs.

Stars. Even outside the cold confines of either assembly room or war room, they carry their habits to stay quiet when the ones with power are talking. And honestly, it's comforting still, somewhat. Like they can just be themselves still, outside the very institution they were born for.

“Didn't know you have that kinda stuff,” Nico says finally, breaking her mulling just as breakfast is served, the server droid making no audible noise loud enough to break the silence.

Me too, Fox thinks, until last night, apparently.

“It is a piece of information rarely made public and kept close among our peers only,” Lesiil says, picking up her utensils when Nico, as the host, does. Fox follows her movement meticulously. Something he's never done, again, but he's adapting. “And yours is a special, high-profile case, Miss Erlonna. High-profile cases such as this need to be handled delicately, and swiftly, because the pressing demands by the Motion Pictures Academy simply cannot be taken lightly. It would damage their public image, and yours.”

Neither of the four had already dug into their food. It's hearty and tasty, and looks very diet-balanced. The weight of the topic is dawning on them, but seemingly not as much for Nico. She's wolfing down her plate as if the conversation was never about what it is, after all. Like judging the choice of weather today or something.

“So on behalf of the institution and Coruscant Security Force, I hope you will be willing to fully cooperate with us.”

Another moment of silence, but briefer. He had breakfast already at the mess… but I suppose a second helping won't hurt. He looks at Wolffe, who's digging in at last. Yeah, just today. Kriff diet. This is home food.

“Okay,” Nico acknowledges at last, “But… won't that involve you guys reading me the rights to remain silent and call a lawyer or something?”

Lesiil shakes her head. “No. My early retirement no longer leaves me the power to read you your rights, and neither is Commander Fox.”

Yeah, as if he had it. As if he could. He and his unit is the brute force that gets thrown the harshest part of an op, after all. Not the legal part and stuff.

Lesiil continues, “However, with me being here, you are entitled to speak freely. Admit your side of the story very clearly and leave nothing out.” One hand comes from under the table, and it carries out a recording device, setting it on top for everybody to see. “It will be recorded and used in court, with me taking to the witness stand to defend your side of the story as well.”

“Wouldn't that be too excessive?” Wolffe breaks the full-minute tension, arms crossing across his chest, “You have recording already, why would you need to take the stand?”

Fox hesitantly turns. Lesiil trades an unreadable look with him, but he notes of her insistence – her Lorrdian blood better be kept a secret. “Let's just say I am a master at reading nonverbal communications,” Lesiil finally says, offering a smile of reassurance, “I will know whether you tell the truth or not.”

“If you don't,” Fox adds quickly with a firmer tone, eyes studying Nico's attentive demeanor, “Lesiil is allowed to refuse to testify for you.”

“And help the prosecutor build the case instead. Not for your team of lawyers,” Lesiil clarifies, and both of them collectively take the look of concern traded between the other couple. Lesiil lets out a small, quiet sigh, and reassuringly adds, “If this would be taken to the courtroom.”

Wolffe catches on. “So there's no charges against her?”

“Not yet,” Fox shakes his head.

“The victim's family hasn't filed any charges yet,” Lesiil elaborates further, “My CSF contact who is the lead investigator of this case informed me that the victim's family wishes to know the truth first beforehand, and is helping in the investigation as well.”

“Meaning if this takes a darker turn, there's gonna be charges,” adds Fox, having been briefed further by Eisen this morning via comms.

“Their lawyers were present,” Lesiil says again, spilling everything by this point. Nico perks up and is intensely listening again. “The family has spoken to us as such, and will be regarded as such unless something's changed.”

Wolffe lets out a huge sigh, turning to Nico. “His family a whole bunch of assholes too?”

Her eyebrows furrow, almost in doubt. That, or offended. “No, on the contrary. They like me, actually,” she mutters mindfully, “It’s just their son is– was that screwed up…”

After yet another brief look traded to each other they continue their breakfast in silence. Lesiil only eats about half, Fox notices. If they weren't in someone else's house he would've wolfed it down. Food can't go to waste, and this is good and homey.

Lesiil folds her hands on top of the table. “You can start your story whenever you're ready, Miss Erlonna.”

“I…” Nico huffs, nervousness bleeding off her person, “I can begin at the after-party. Is that okay?”

“As long as it remains factual.”

“Don't say anything!” shouts a new voice from the doorway. Veeli the assistant returns, with the usual datapad clutched closely and a new company to their group. The masculine voice earlier belonged to this yellow-skinned Zabrak with tattoos, brown hair slicked back and sharply dressed. They stop at the other end of the table, closest to Nico, and the new guy points a finger at her. “Say you want a lawyer, Nico.”

The actress sighs loudly. “Titus, relax.”

As they plunge into an argument, Fox eyes Wolffe and mouths who the heck is that? clear enough for the other man to answer manager.

“If I may speak,” Lesiil breaks out resolutely, her voice slightly raised among the chatter and almost sternly glowers onto the three. “These are neutral grounds. We are no police.”

The manager, Titus, glares back, his fists clench – Fox flattens his boots against the floor at the ready. “But you represent them, Detective.”

“For my own personal investigation that would help the police solve this case,” Lesiil calmly affirms, then more with a firmer cadence, “Miss Erlonna is pinned down by the media as we speak, and I reckon neither the muse or CSF want their name tainted by being accused of felony crime and unprofessionalism by the public, respectively. I serve as the means to accelerate this case to its final resolution within 24 hours since the incident.”

“And don't start about the Academy,” Nico butts in, voice lowered with apprehension, almost with fear. “My rep's in danger, Titus.”

The manager scrubs both hands down his face. “At least get a lawyer to defend your liability, Nic.”

“No. I wanna speak freely.” The muse turns to the assistant. Wow. The audacity of this lady disregarding any kind of law protection. “Vee, any news about Shon and me?”

“The incident is making rounds in morning holonews channels as we speak,” the Mikkian says, tapping and thumbing away at her datapad, “Viral social media tags. Mentions. Comments. Reactions, hates. It’ll be too much by lunch time.”

Nico gives a bitter smile. “Nothing I can't handle.”

Another moment of sympathizing silence. Fox feels like cartwheeling because what the kark was all that. The manager seems kinda stupid… but he appreciates his insistence as it's supposed to be done.

Lesiil forks a little more of the nerf sausage (It makes Fox proud by watching. No food waste it seems.), before she prompts as politely as possible, “Can we continue?”

Nico turns to the other two, sighing tiredly, and waves a hand. “Just… sit down. I was just getting started before you panicked nunas came in.”

Both newcomers stare with each other before relenting. “Yeah, sorry,” Veeli shrugs, looking down to her datapad instead. Titus takes a seat at the other end of the table, Veeli next to Nico. “What did you talk about?” she asks.

“I was only getting into it,” Nico rolls her eyes. Leaning back to her seat, her plate already clean, she begins with a sigh, “After that Bye Bye Bye by B’SYNC karaoke I headed outside for some fresh air. Some social me-time, as always. It was getting suffocating and I went up to the rooftop.”

“Is the rooftop supposed to be public?” Lesiil straight up asks, easily stepping back into the investigative air waiting for her return.

“It’s preserved for celebs like us to take a breather.”

“But not everyone knows about it,” Titus butts in, his voice uncharacteristically low and solemn after all that loud intervention, “That's why the security was minimal.”

Nico turns to him. “There were no security personnel or whatever, Titus.”

Fox sharply turns to Wolffe, questioningly, the other man nods just subtly in confirmation. Whose stupid idea was that?

The Zabrak’s eyes widen in surprise. “Kriff, really?” One hand flies to his hair, his dark brows crease into a frown. “But there were cameras.”

“My CSF contact who leads this investigation is looking into it as we speak,” Lesiil reassures, turning to Nico again. “Please continue, Miss Erlonna.”

“I was up there. Just thinking,” the muse picks up, “Then Shon came up to me.”

“What did he say?”

“Oh y'know, just the same old. Wanted to get back together, and I refused.” She quietly shakes her head. The entire table is enveloped with a wistful blanket at that moment, knowing what's next. “I just… didn't realize he would take such extreme measures.”

It's not after a full minute where everyone either drinks their water or finishes up their plates or just mulling that Fox begins to feel the silence stretches too long. It feels familiar again; that first orientation command-wide meeting where Lesiil introduced herself and began to present her findings – where she brought up about death. She gave them a moment of silence; to gather, to mourn again in a short pocket of time, before picking it up again. But he now knows behind such thoughtfulness, the gears inside her brain remain whirring and ticking; sprouting out plausible theories, connecting the dots.

It's exactly what he deems as his mirror; her mind is tirelessly working. Running on the clock, racing against time, never resting even in the midst of mind-cracking puzzles. Always finding a way out. Though in regards to strategy, his is far more excellent. He maps through and creates strategies in minutes, while she perhaps could supply every single possible risk to take into consideration. Together – a plan hatched into perfection.

Shame the Coruscant Guard isn't allowed to recruit natborns. Even if it is, he'd think twice before instantly picking Lesiil to take up office in HQ.

And her mind continues working. Always. Even after retiring, it remains complex. Trained, stimulated. Going back to the current situation, as the moment fits, she picks up again, “What exactly did you two talk about before it happened?”

Nico gulps the last of her water before answering, “It's just that I refused. He wanted to be friends. After what he did to me, I just… I couldn't. I don't want to. He was toxic throughout our relationship.” She lets out a wistful sigh, probably also wishing the water was wine. “I'd be an idiot.”

Lesiil prompts her to continue on her own.

“I was just about to leave,” Nico resumes, arms winding around herself to provide some comfort. Wolffe not so quietly drags his chair closer in protectiveness, their shoulders brushing. Nico leans into him. Fox softens at the sight. “Turned my back around and he called me, I turned and saw him already standing on that ledge. Tried to talk it out, even lied that I still loved him because if I'd taken him back he wouldn't do that.” Her voice breaks in reliving the incident. “But well, he did. I tried to grab him too, but he let go of my grip and–” she throws her hands up “–down he went.”

“Mersace fined us for the damage of your dress,” says Veeli a moment later.

“That could be evidence,” Fox says quickly, glancing next to him.

Lesiil meets his gaze, nodding. “I will inform my contact about it.” Her attention sweeps around the table. “We'll handle it. Now to the current problem; how would we know whether you're telling the truth at all, Miss Erlonna?”

Fox's breath hitches. Veeli gasps.

“Oh kark’s sake,” Titus facepalms.

Nico's eyebrows furrow, lips slightly parted conveying her shock, and perhaps offended.

“Are you kidding?!” Wolffe blurts out, his expression hardens directly at Lesiil, almost growling, “I thought you were on our side, Thrace.”

“I will, if there is sufficient documentary evidence. It should be security footage, but we're still looking through it. Even if we get a hold of it when it does show that you tried to save him and not purposefully letting him go,” Lesiil meets his hard tone fairly, but reined with an ample amount of respect, still. She shakes her head. “It won't be enough, because we also need to hear that it happened as you said.”

“Les.”

He'd better step in. The last thing he needs is his cyare embarrassing herself. Exhaling, Lesiil softens when she meets his warning glare.

“Don’t overstep,” he says, drawing the sternest tone he'd usually pull when she worked under him. He gently cocks his head in Nico's direction. “See for yourself. You can tell if she tells the truth.”

“I am aware Miss Erlonna does tell the truth. She's innocent,” she asserts – there’s something about it that makes Fox think this is one of the moments she won't back down. “But the jury won't, if this case gets taken to court and we still lack evidence by then. We're running out of time, that's why we need stronger documentary evidence to build this case where she's innocent.”

“This is not legal consultation!” he scolds, voice slightly raised, “So stop playing prosecutor for now and just lend your ear. Be a friend. An ally. That's why you're here.”

Silence ensues as Lesiil blinks at his outburst, glancing away to escape his scrutiny. No, not escape. More like; utilizing the pause in their bicker so that he could think that perhaps he's been the one embarrassing her at that moment.

Kark. He's not her boss anymore. Why is it easy to forget?

Wolffe lifts an eyebrow at him. Fox what the hell?

I just… He sighs, breaking the other clone’s scrutiny. Sorry.

“Let's just say we're in a focus group discussion for now,” Veeli calmly says, being the first one to speak.

Lesiil puts on a meek, guilty smile. “Apologies. For my insistence and on behalf of the Marshal Commander. I have an ongoing study in law school. I suppose I was carried away.”

One of many things Fox admires about her; where he ducks his way out of tough situations by just carefully making himself invisible, she confronts it with a flawless smile, admits her wrong, and clears presumed mistakes to start over. 

Nico is propping her jaw in her palm, low, with elbow on the table. “Yeah?” she drawls, yet not without interest. It's the tone someone uses when they're actually impressed towards something mundane. “That's cool, though.”

“You're laying out the entire game in case anything goes wrong by identifying possible legal loopholes firsthand,” Wolffe joins in, the air around him opposite of Nico. For less than a second his mismatched eyes glares at Fox before returning back to Lesiil with a look of pride. “You're good.”

Lesiil nods in thanks. “It's what a good lawyer would do.”

Kriff he's a shit boyfriend isn't he.

“I wanna recruit her when she graduates,” Nico declares with a sudden burst of energy. She turns to Veeli. “Can I? Do that?”

Fox holds back a sigh. “Let's focus on what we have on our plates first, Ma'am.”

“Yeah,” Titus bitterly agrees. As soon as he turns to Lesiil, he unwinds his folded arms. “But, uh, can you tell us just what's happening currently in your investigation?”

“Right now, generally, everything points to Miss Erlonna,” states the former detective, “You have a connection to the victim. The toxic former relationship and his constant harassment might be a possible motive for you to take him out of the picture, driving your actions – supposed you're guilty of manslaughter – questionable, because there was an option to issue a restraining order against Mr Vatore's harassment. It makes you look guilty for bypassing a lawful protection as such.”

“I just… didn't want to,” Nico mutters, the weight finally sitting on her stomach. She scrubs both hands down her face. “It'd make him look bad. Stupid, I know.”

Fox refrains from saying anything to that. He looks at Wolffe. Subtly, the 104th commander shrugs, his eyes rolling as if yeah she's an idiot I know.

“On another note,” Lesiil continues, not intending to let the progressive answer to Titus's question stalled, “We did find your fingerprints on the victim, Miss Erlonna. This strengthens your presence at the scene of the crime.”

“Around the wrist, right?” Nico enthusiastically clasps her own wrist, fumbling experimentally, mimicking her own grasp that attempted to save the dead guy. “That's where I tried to hold onto him.”

“Yes.” Lesiil’s forefinger curls on her chin in thought. “But such a fact is a double-edged blade, still.”

Wolffe huffs, his look impatient yet knows better than to rush the hassle. “Is there anything we can do at all?”

“Not yet,” Fox answers, the most recent briefing this morning still etched into his mind – every single progress mentioned. “But we're running out of time all the same.”

“He was just this… sick person.” All heads turn to Titus. The manager seems to be always overlooked, but if anyone knows what seems to be lurking in the entertainment industry – rumors and sick threats and conspiracy theories – it's him. His arms are crossed again over his chest, seemingly just resurfaced from his own deep lake of thoughts. As he's supposed to be; to salvage Nico's public image that perhaps has already been broken, bit by bit. He shrugs. “I personally think he was sick or something. Mentally ill.”

“Possibly,” Wolffe contributes without missing a beat, “Obsessive love to the point of this is a thing.”

“You think he'd write a diary or something?” Veeli chimes in, and insightfully adds, “He was into traditional stage plays. He was a poetic kinda guy.”

Fox fishes his comlink out. 

“I do think he would,” Lesiil says thoughtfully. Fox glances up, briefly witnessing the storm grey in her eyes brewing maps and connecting the dots, darting here and there as if mapping an imaginary plan, her mind fully at work.

Stars it feels like we're inside her mind. He can't even exaggerate how refreshing it feels. It's nostalgic. It always brings him back to that meeting room where she was first introduced.

“Inspecting the victim's mobile devices. Searching his residence. Residences, if there is more than one.” At last, she sighs, and Fox can hear the weight bleed off her shoulders. “This would take a while.” Then, gently, she says to him, “Tell Eisen about this?”

He doesn't look up, already pulling up the lead investigator’s comm channel. “Way ahead of you, DT.”

“So with her case,” Wolffe points to the woman next to him, “From her side of the story – it's a dead end?”

Lesiil nods. “Unfortunately. As I said, nothing about it can save herself for now.”

That earns hesitant looks traded among the four. With that said, it's as good as trust the process and wait it out.

“Trust me, I too wish my testimony, based on my analysis on nonverbal cues, could suffice in court to clear you out of suspicion and eventually rules the victim's death as suicide.”

“A great day, wasn't it, Beedee?”

[STATEMENT] I miss field work. Thanks for bringing me along, Lesiil!

She smiles fondly, offering a fist bump to the little droid perching on her back. “Of course.” Fishing out the key card to her apartment, Lesiil and BD-6 trades one last glance before entering the premises. “What would I do without you, after all, Beedee?”

The rest of the happy boops is a music to her ears. Homely soft amber warmth greets Lesiil once she steps in, immediately busying to take off her boots and stash it in the wee storeroom. Fox is here. His own white boots is where they usually are when he's home, as are parts of his armor. But… why only parts? Is he not cleaning himself up yet?

Beedee had scurried off earlier all by himself, the familiar weight on her shoulders already gone. She steps out of the little room, the door sliding close. She checks the front door lock mechanisms, locking it for the night. Fox is always home now during Centaxday nights. As she's about to turn and grab a look at the chronometer in the furthest wall of the living area, a pair of strong arms, still covered with familiar GAR body glove, wrap around her waist from behind.

“I'm sorry I was an ass.”

Lesiil melts into the embrace. No ‘welcome home’? she's about to joke, but the way Fox pulls her impossibly closer to his chest as if trying to absorb her under his skin. His dark locks tickling her ear and jaw as he presses his face close into her neck, nuzzling against the collar of her work attire. She always feels safe in his arms, but the way he tightens them around her denotes what she identifies as desperation.

Then it clicks.

She almost forgets about it because of the enthusiasm of going back to field investigative work (even though only involving reviewing available evidence and connecting them, writing up a request for warrant, and traveling to the other side of Coruscant to search for more evidence). It took a whole day, now the chronometer perhaps showing 2200.

She releases a slow breath, placing her hands stop his, that are clinging onto the flap of her jacket. Definitely not letting go anytime soon.

“Is this about when you scolded me this morning, my love?”

Fox hums. “That was uncalled for.” His voice is meek, muffled by her clothes as he nuzzles further into them. “You looked like you were going to stab me or something at the moment. Or cry.”

Lesiil can't help the amused smile threatened to latch onto her lips. “That was a poor observation, cyare,” she chuckles quietly. Slowly peeling his arms a little so she can turn around and meet his eyes – amber brown pools carefully studying every strand that makes up the tapestry of her soul. Eye bags, soft stress lines, a little frown thats’s always present when he's in doubt. He's the worst when it comes to hide his facial expressions, making it all clear for her to read. He doesn't mind. All for her to see. All that is hers to see, to admire, and to love.

“Fox.” She tucks away the locks that fall over his forehead, silver threads of hair among them. It always falls back, sweeping across his skin and kissing his eyelids – a futile attempt that she'd do over and over sgain. “I was never angry to begin with.”

His frown deepens. “I don't believe you.”

Lesiil can't help the chuckle tumbling off her lips. In a disguise to caress his cheeks, her smile grows in satisfaction when she feels the skin under her tender touch warms. “You silly man.”

“That's right.” He lets his head falls into her shoulder, hiding his face into the crook of her neck again. Her heart melts. Always does, when he's particularly clingy. “I'm still yours, right?”

“Please, as if I'm leaving you to your sad and lonely marshal commander duties.”

He sniffs. “That's cruel.”

One of her hands card through his hair in a loving pace, another arm splaying over his built shoulders. “You did nothing wrong,” Lesiil explains, “I admit I was carried away but you ground me, Fox. And I appreciate that, wholeheartedly.”

He hums. “You sure?”

“I am very sure, cyare.”

“But I raised my voice at you.”

“I’m not made of cheap glass, Marshal,” she says a little firmly, delivering a long kiss into his hair. A little greasy from daylong sweat under that helmet, but they're sharing the same predicament – just home after work. “Sometimes all I need is a firmer presence that grounds me. And that's you, Fox.”

Lesiil pulls always slightly. She wants to look at him in the eyes. Nothing more. It gives her joy to see if one thing amuses him, or if another displeases him. Gently, still wrapped inside the safe confines of Fox's arms, she cradles the sides of his scarred face. The long mark across his nose, the faded gash on his left jaw, and the little healed cuts on his eyebrow and the corner of his lips that she enjoys all for herself.

“Please don't sulk. Yes? This sight of you breaks my heart a little.” A soft peck to the scar on the corner of his lip. “I don't want you to be sad because of a small misunderstanding.”

The response is a sweet kiss to the lips. Then two, a little deeper than before. Then three, that makes her smile against his lips. Fox leans his forehead against hers, his gloveless fingers stroking her cheek lovingly. “Shower with me?”

She hums a no. “I’m afraid I still have a little work to do. Eisen is sending me the official report tonight and expecting me to deliver the news.”

“It all went well?” he asks, a little too energized. A smirk slide into his lips and adorns his already handsome, sharp-featured face. “You miss all that?”

“I admit I do. To go back and investigate on site, the entire process of it. Warrant, search, found, bag. Solving the puzzle, connecting the dots. It all felt good.” Smiling, Lesiil presses a long kiss to his lips, delivering her entire heart into the notion, receiving a honey-sweet smile in return. “Thank you for asking, ner al’verde.”

Her commlink beeps. Knowing it's probably what they've been waiting for, her cyare lets go immediately and leans closer to inspect the message together.

“Oh,” Lesiil grins, “Good news to be delivered.”

“It was the search warrants that took so much time, but we worked as fast as we could. We found the victim's mobile devices, various holonotes and holojournals. Every single means where he could possibly write his journal, we skimmed through every single one.”

Under the umbrella of nervousness and anticipation, Nico's hands are fiddling with the hem of her camisole. “That was fast.”

The holo figure of the former detective shifts, and then suddenly there's a little biped droid clinging onto her arm like some bird. She smiles at it in acknowledgment before returning to the holo. “My droid BD-6 processes mobile devices faster. We tend to get results on the spot.” The droid boops its confirmation. “And we did. We found various entries in his journals that spoke of his intention to end his life had you not reciprocated his feelings.”

Wolffe, who's reclined next to her on the bed and out of frame, hums his satisfaction at the revelation. Nico sighs heavily, heavy burden finally cracks and crumbles and vanishes off her chest.

“So…” she begins hesitantly, “So I'm cleared out of suspicion, right?”

All she wants is to jump and scream into the air and perhaps party while blowing off some fireworks as soon as she sees the detective nodding her head.

“Yes, and there weren't any charges to begin with. Just deadlines and media scrutiny, I suppose, Miss Erlonna,” Thrace smiles reassuringly, “Moreover, one of the family members came forward and told us of the victim's intentions. But they were threatened so they kept it a secret. It's crystal clear now that you are not at fault, at all. This is something the victim had brought upon himself.”

Nico lets out another breath of relief, her limbs still trembling from the extremity of it. From the toxic behavior to begin with. Way back to their relationship. Not my fault.

“Though I believe you will run quite a session with your lawyer team. Speaking as a law student myself, they would absolutely have a word with you about not issuing that restraining order in the first place.”

“That wouldn't be able to stop Shon.” She would usually return the slipped joke easily, but first things first. “It wouldn't make much difference. I know him. He was passionate. Guess when it comes to me it turned into a sick obsession that made me wanna barf every damn time.”

“Who knew it would've gone better,” the former detective remarks, “But as of now, you have nothing more to worry about, Miss Erlonna. As I said, the victim's family filed no charges in the first place, they have accepted the truth, and this case is finally closed.”

Gods she feels like crying. Her reputation – saved!

“I can't tell you just how relieved I am, Detective.”

Thrace nods deeply. “I am sure. I feel the same for you, Miss Erlonna. Thank you for your cooperation.”

Both Nico's hands fly to her chest, “No, Detective. Thank you.” A wide smile breaks in her face. “Alright! A celebratory dinner is in order! I'll go run and tell Veeli.”

Wolffe shakes his head – fondly, if that isn't obvious yet, with an extra roll of his eyes. Childlike woman. With no initial intention to step into the holocall, he'd kept himself from peeking in, yet listening off-frame. Yet when the holo shifts again from the corner of his eyes, he decides to abandon his report work the boys sent him and hops off the bed.

“Where's Wolffe?” Fox asks aloud, to which Lesiil shrugs and shakes her head. The shabuir is plainly standing there next to his smart as hell girlfriend, in a t-shirt and tracksuit bottoms looking ready to sleep the night off, and a towel hanging off one shoulder, fresh from shower.

Wolffe smugly steps into the frame, crossing his arms. “What, karkhead?”

Fox mimics his gesture. “Nothing.” His scarred eyebrow, scaringly on the same side of the face as Wolffe's, rises. “You have it down bad for Nic Erlonna, huh?”

“Hm?”

“I wish I could just strangle you right now.”

“The hell are you talking about, Fox?”

The door to the bedroom slides open.

“We know how you two been playing it fak–”

“Commander Fox?”

Wolffe snaps his head up, watching how one hundred facial expressions passing across Nico's fair face spanning from shock and back again to shock as she draws nearer, and eventually gets into the holocall next to him.

“What–” she gestures between the two holo figures, “You two are together?!”

Lesiil, seemingly taking the initially serious call now has turned into a playful one, shrugs, an amused smirk gracing her lips. “Why, I thought that was obvious.”

Wolffe sighs loudly on purpose. “Don’t mind her.” He resists the urge to grab for one butt cheek. “She's a slow one.”

“Am not! I didn't know!” Nico fights back.

“You could've known.”

“Stop embarrassing me!”

“Why wouldn't I?”

“–no, cyare, they show genuine reactions towards each other now. You know, mutual comfort.”

He turns slowly to the holo.

“What?” Nico asks aloud.

Lesiil grins innocently – the sight is familiar with Wolffe. They've hung out together once or twice with the other command boys, after all. “I stated you both have a recently intriguing chemistry,” she declares.

Wolffe releases a breath, looking up to the ceiling. Dank farrik. They've caught on, have they.

“W-what do you mean?”

Force, this woman.

Fox snorts openly, abandoning his formal commander demeanor. “What, you think a master of reading nonverbal communications wouldn't pick up how you two have been faking it for months? Come on.”

“What?!” Nico exclaims, “But we sold!”

“To everyone,” Lesiil says, “But not to me and those who are like me.”

Nico huffs. “Who are you anyway?” Wolffe elbows her warningly. “...If I may ask?”

“That is a secret I will have to carry to the grave. A magician never reveals their secrets, after all.”

Does Wolffe know? No. He doesn't know. It probably won't make any difference if it's spilled anyway, and it's private. Fox seems to know. Very well.

“Yeah, but anyway, what the hell you two,” his vod says, “I bought it, until one of my men showed her and she straight up said ‘no it's fake’. At first glance!”

“You're exaggerating, cyare.”

“That's what you did, Lesii.” Fox turns to him and points an accusing finger in the holo. “Wolffe you son of a droid. You owe me an explanation, or I'm gonna tell Cody. You know how runny his karking mouth is. In exactly 10 minutes, the entire Republic army would know how fake you two were.”

A quiet laugh rumbles off his chest. Seems like we're made. With Lesiil being there as she claims, no way we're getting out of this.

“Ahahaha, oh gods,” Nico laughs awkwardly, sharing his mind, “That was such a long story.”

“Way, way back,” Wolffe agrees.

“Lay it all out,” Fox grins, glancing at Lesiil, who has the same amount of mirth and curiosity sparking in her eyes. “We've got all night.”

Taglist (Form): @yoursrosie @hellfiresky @ladylucksrogue @msmeredithrose @filamentlights @heidnspeak

A/N: I can't say thanks enough for you enjoying their journey so far! It ends here for now. Who knows there'll be next? 🫵🏼🫶🏼💓

[vodika-vibes]

Funnily enough, I've never really considered what the future would look like for Yuu and Fox. But I'm sure I can come up with something.

Prompt: clone x oc week 2025 day 5: future

Tw: pregnancy

Tagging: @clonexocweek @clonethirstingisreal

Fox owes Yuu everything.

They've been together for ten years now, and when Fox thinks about all the things that he owes to Yuu, he gets a little weepy.

Yuu has given him a job that isn't soul sucking. Their work to separate the Guard from the Senate led to the creation of the most extensive and efficient emergency services in the galaxy.

So efficient, in fact, that Fox has given more than one lecture to different worlds leaders about how to better run their emergency services.

Through that, Yuu forced the people of Coruscant to see the clones as actual people. Which, in turn, led to the clones earning more rights. Including a guaranteed paycheck.

And, the more people started viewing the clones as people, the harder they looked into the war itself. Tracking the money and paying attention to the policies being passed through the senate, and slowly but surely, Palpatine's house of cards started crumbling around him.

Yuu's final act as Palpatine's Personal Assistant was to drop years' worth of evidence of Palpatine's corruption on the Jedi before they started their new job helping Fox organize everything.

And Fox loves Yuu for all of that.

But, he'd have to admit that the greatest things that Yuu have ever given him don't have anything to do with politics or his brothers.

No. The greatest things they've ever given him are the three children playing just down the hall in the massive playroom Fox made for them.

Two sons and a daughter. All three of them the perfect mix of him and Yuu. His dark skin and their stunning grey eyes, the oldest has Yuu's nose and mannerisms, while the younger two carry themselves like Yuu.

And, what's more, Yuu is in the process of creating another pair of babies for him.

A tiny smile lifts his lips at the thought. His little bird really does look amazing when carrying his kids. If he's not careful, they'll have a whole squad to raise, if not more.

He glances at the open door to the bedroom he shares with Yuu when he hears a frustrated noise coming from inside.

Yuu pokes their head from the room, a pout on their lips, "Why are all maternity clothes so ugly?"

"To spite you and you specifically," Fox replies immediately, a grin crossing his face at the look that crosses Yuu's face, "What's wrong, little bird?"

"I'm fat and nothing fits!"

"Right, well, you're not fat. You're baking a baby. And what happened to all of your maternity clothes?"

"They're ugly."

Ah, it's one of those mornings.

"How about you wear one of my sweatshirts and those sweatpants you like so much?" Fox offers as he stands and walks over to them, his hands settling on their hips.

Yuu looks up at him tearfully, "I look like a whale."

"You look like the pregnant love of my life." Fox corrects, "You currently have three skeletons, which makes you an adorable eldritch abomination."

A startled laugh falls from them, and they lean in to rest their head in his chest. "You're terrible."

"And yet, you love me all the same." He kisses the top of their head, "I love you, you know that?"

"You better. I've given you five kids and ten years of my life."

"And I'm a lucky asshole for it." Fox kisses them one more time, "Go and get dressed, little bird. We're going to the pool today to help relieve you of some of that pressure on your back."

Yuu slumps against him, "I love you."

"I am pretty amazing, aren't I?" He lightly kisses to the top of their head and then ushers them back into the room to get them dressed. And then he pokes his head back into the hall, "Kits! We're going to the pool!"

There's the sound of excited running upstairs, and Fox nods as he turns his attention back on Yuu as they dig around for their maternity suimsuit.

Tonight.

Tonight, he'll ask them.

He really should have done it before the kids, but well, life happens.

And that little ring has been waiting years to get placed on Yuu's finger.

[kamino-burrito]

For @clonexocweek day 5: Sending your dad off to work is struggle, especially if it's fighting the government. Vierrana finds it very amusing and adorable. Side note: drawing ARC trooper armor is a pain, and it still looks very wonky 🥲

[hellfiresky]

Red Tides: Calm during the storm

Contribution to @clonexocweek | Theme: Future

This is Chapter 1 of my fic Red Tides. Whilst it’s not necessarily about who the boys become in the future, this excerpt explores how they imagine their future as clone troopers.

Read their story here.

Summary: Fresh off Kamino, the Spectre Squad - Blaze, Quake, Ridge, and Steel are ready to take the galaxy by storm… or so they think. Between mundane duties, oddball assignments, and weird encounters, these shinies quickly learn that life as a clone trooper is anything but glamorous. But hey, at least the caf machine works… sometimes.

Pairings: Clone troopers OCs x Clone troopers OCs (Sibling dynamic. No cloneshipping/cest) Warnings: None

Taglist: @orangez3st @msmeredithrose

The cadet barracks on Kamino were as cold and clinical as the rest of Tipoca City. Long walls of rounded bunk doors lined the room in perfect symmetry, each hatch leading to a coffin-like individual sleeping pod. The pods were barely big enough to stretch out in, but they came with built-in lights and ventilation - a small mercy in a space designed more for function than comfort.

The faint noise of other soon-to-be troopers shuffling in the locker area beneath the rows of sleeping pods was the only sound beyond the relentless rain hammering against the windows on the far side of the room. It wasn’t unusual, the rain. It was as much a part of Kamino as the ever-present smell of disinfectant. The rain, the smell, the eerie uniformity of it all - it came as one package.

CT-80-3498 sat cross-legged on the bench in front of his locker, boots off, training gear neatly spread out before him as he meticulously inspected each piece under the faint moonlight filtering through the window. He considered himself and his batchmates lucky, they’d snagged the window-end of the barracks. No need to disturb the others on sleepless nights like this.

The ambient sleep light in their section warmed the space the moment his tube-twin, CT-80-7654, hopped off the ladder from his pod. Without a word, 7654 pressed his forehead to the cold glass of the window, exhaling warm air out of his mouth. Moments later, CT-80-4422, clearly fresh from one of his late-night showers, sprawled out on the floor beside the bench where 3498 was sitting, arms folded behind his head as he stared blankly at the ceiling.

“You know, Blaze,” 7654’s voice broke the quiet of the barracks, “I bet you ten credits our first mission’s on some sunny planet. Blue skies. Dust everywhere. The kind of place you’d hate after a week.” He rolled his head on the glass, now the top of his head pressing against the window whilst he faced away from it. “Maybe Maridun. Heard the drill sergeant say something about it.”

Blaze folded the last piece of his gear and tucked it neatly into his locker. He then sat on the floor beside his brother, who was busy fogging up the window with his breath and writing his CT number on it. “Yeah? And I bet you’ll trip over your own feet the second we land, Quake. Maybe get eaten by something. I hear they’ve got big critters there.”

“Big critters?” CT-80-8910, nearly dropped his datapad before frantically catching it, almost hurling himself off his pod in the process. “And they didn’t teach us how to deal with that?! Guess I’ll just have to sweet-talk my way out of it.”

“Your sweet talk,” Steel muttered without opening his eyes, still laid out on the floor and enjoying the coolness against his skin after his shower, “is what got us extra laps last week.”

“It was worth it,” Ridge cackled. “You’ve gotta admit, sarge’s face was priceless when I—”

“When you tripped over the training droid, fell on your face, and took me down with you?” Quake interrupted. “Yeah, priceless.”

Steel sighed from his place on the floor. “You know, actually, the funny part is how you still think it’s a good idea to open your mouth during our review. Was that your third speech about sarge’s ‘natural greatness’ this week?”

“Fourth,” Blaze corrected. “He hasn’t shut up about it since we got those performance commendations last week.”

“Sweet talking got you places, vod.”

“You’re gonna have a hard time sweet talking when you’re standing at attention for six hours straight on guard duty,” Blaze also fogged the window, just like his twin.

That seemed to settle things, for a moment. The conversation faded, leaving only the sound of the rain and the sound of the barracks’ air conditioner. Quake turned back to the window, the faint reflection of his face - identical to his batchmates - staring back at him as he pressed his hand to the glass. “I wonder what it’s like, though,” he said softly. “Coruscant. They say the city goes on forever. No oceans. No storms. Weather-controlled.”

“Probably loud,” Steel chimed in from the floor. He rolled onto his stomach, propping himself up on his elbows and resting his chin on his hand as he turned to face his brothers by the window. “Bright. Too bright. Bet we’ll miss this place after a week.”

“You might miss it,” Blaze pointed his index finger at Steel. “Me? I won’t miss slipping on those damn platforms every time it storms.”

“Which is all the time,” Quake’s face was back pressing on the glass to watch the storm outside.

Ridge, as usual, couldn’t let the moment stay serious for long. “We get it. Quake, the most stable man on Kamino, doesn’t slip. Unlike the rest of us mere mortals.”

“Except, the guy literally ‘quake’d’ half the obstacle course last month,” Blaze smacked his brother’s shin from where he was sitting. “Hey,” Quake held up his hands, “That was a structural weakness in the obstacle course. Nothing to do with me.”

“Sure,” Ridge blew raspberries, “whatever keeps you sleep at night!”

Quake smacked the back of Ridge’s dangling head on his way up the ladder to his pod, earning a sharp “Ow!” from his brother, who retaliated by yanking down Quake’s trousers. Too tired to bother responding, Quake just let out a quiet laugh, hauling himself into his pod to settle in.

The rain grew louder, pounding against the glass as if it, too, wanted to be heard. Blaze stayed by the window, still fogging the glass and inscribing the rest of his batchmates’ CT numbers on it. “Think we’ll all stay together?” he asked suddenly.

The silence that followed was almost uncomfortable. Steel was the first to break it. “Hope so,” he yawned. “Guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

“Of course we will,” Quake quipped, with all the certainty of someone who believed it entirely. “You think anyone else can handle my greatness?”

“Handle it, no,” Ridge said. “Tolerate it? Maybe.”

Their side of the barracks fell silent again, the four of them retreating into their thoughts. Outside, the rain kept falling, pooling into endless puddles on the platform outside of the place they’d called home their whole lives. A place they’d soon leave behind.

Blaze finally turned away from the window, he looked at Quake, then Ridge, then Steel. Identical faces. Identical heights. Identical eyes. And yet, in moments like this, they couldn’t have felt more different. “Whatever it’s like,” he said, pulling Steel off the floor and heading for his pod, “it’s gotta be better than this. We’re made for more than standing in the rain.”

Steel followed him without a word. Ridge let out a quiet hum of agreement, and Quake, for once, stayed silent. For the first time in a long time, the storm outside wasn’t the only one they were bracing for.

The day every cadet dreamed of had finally arrived: graduation. For the Spectre Squad, it felt almost surreal. The endless drills, lectures, and grueling simulations were over - or so they thought. After completing their final Citadel test, they managed to scrape by without needing remedial sessions, though it came with no shortage of criticism from their instructors. Still, they’d impressed General Shaak Ti, which was no small feat, and even Commander Blitz, who rarely handed out praise, begrudgingly acknowledged their effort.

“Effort,” of course, wasn’t the word he used.

Blitz had dragged them into one of the briefing rooms afterward for what he called “a little debrief,” but it turned into a full thirty-minute sit-down lecture. He rattled off extra pointers on everything from squad formations to weapon maintenance to “not making fools of yourselves the second you leave Kamino.” Quake had barely managed to keep a straight face, holding back giggles while Blaze kicked him under the table to keep him in line.

“We’re sending you out there to fight a war,” Blitz firmly said during the sit-down lecture. “You’ll be wearing the armour, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with your siblings across the galaxy. Act like it. And remember: discipline first. The rest will follow.” Blaze committed Blitz’s words to memory. Ridge muttered a quiet “Yes, sir,” whilst Steel gave a fresh-off-Kamino salute. Quake, as usual, threw off the formation by saying “Thanks for the pep talk, bossman,” before Blaze elbowed him in the ribs.

By the time they left the briefing room, the reality of the situation finally began to sink in. They were leaving Kamino. Not in weeks, not in months - soon.

They weren’t told where they were shipping out, only that they had four rotations to pack their things and prepare. Their orders were vague at best: collect their shiny new armour from the Dome - the armour depot nestled in the west wing of Tipoca City Military Base; attend a mandatory assembly at 0600 in four rotations; proceed to stand in formation with hundreds of their brothers at the main hangar, and wait for the Venator-class ship scheduled to pick them up.

It wasn’t much to go on, but for the Spectre Squad, it was enough. Blaze had practically sprinted back to the barracks, dragging the others along with him as they worked out the logistics.

“Four rotations?” Ridge tossed a handful of training gear into his duffel. “What are we supposed to do until then? Stare at the rain?”

“You can stare at whatever you want,” Quake flopped onto his pod and pulled the blanket over his head. “Me? I’m getting one last good night’s sleep in before we’re crammed into a ship with hundreds of other troopers.”

Steel, who was methodically organising his pack with near-obsessive precision, didn’t even look up. “You’ll be sleeping plenty once we’re shipped out, Quake. Probably standing up in some hallway somewhere.”

“Standing guard,” Ridge groaned. “For hours. In brand-new armour that’ll pinch like hell until it’s broken in.”

“Beats sitting here,” Blaze zipped up his duffel and put it back into his locker. He tugged Quake’s blanket from under his pod. “You did polish your boots, right?”

Quake finally got up again and swung his legs off the pod. “Yes, they’re shiny enough to blind mothe–, um, Shaak Ti herself. Happy?”

Blaze ignored him. He looked out the window as rain continued to lash against the platforms outside. In four rotations, their home would just be another stormy planet in the rearview of a Venator. None of them said it aloud, but the next few rotations would be the last time they walk along Tipoca City’s pristine halls, run along those rain-soaked platforms connecting each building, or sleep in the utilitarian cramped pods. After this, everything changed.

“Four rotations. Pack your shit, shine your boots, and get your armour. We’ve got a war to fight.” Blaze took a breath and turned back to his brothers.

[moosethren]

Future - Clone x OC week

Ash and Tech's future is heavily tied into the rebellion. TBB stays the course all the way up until the original trilogy. There's way too many unknowns in their current story for me to even think too much about how things are looking then.

I just know they all keep fighting, taking breaks where they can. Ash will want to free her home world from the Empire, there will be losses and grief and things will look hopeless during the years after Order 66. But there will also be victories and happiness, because they will keep doing what they think is right.

This moment below takes place on Skeio, a for now safe world which the Empire can't reach, where exiled carduls and clones wanting to be free of the war can rest. It takes place beyond Plan 99 and is a look into their future, but not at the very end of it.

(Ash's carrd)

“Ash?” Tech’s voice reached through the trees, as he walked between them, trying to catch sight of the woman. It shouldn’t be that hard considering she was mostly blue and yellow, among brown and green trees. “I could need your assistance with something.”

He knew she was somewhere in the area, as one of the cardul hunters in the town had told him. At this rate, he might have to turn towards the comlink though and try to reach her through there.

For a moment, he was distracted by a species of vines, climbing up a tree and dotting it with blue, almost glowing tendrils of roots. Picking up his datapad, he ventured to scan it and then clicked on the buttons on the device, reading the data. Then he continued forward, continuing with his search.

While Skeio was a hidden paradise, even it had its flaws. Hostile fauna was a regular occurrence and no one ventured into the forests without proper weapons. That’s why the growing silence also worried him a little; what if something had happened? Ash was capable, yes, but much was still unknown about Skeio.

Noises from up above distracted him, his hand landing on his holstered blaster. A few leaves drifted down before his eyes, while his attention remained upwards, until he saw the brief flicker of large wings above.

“There you are,” he sighed, his hand immediately leaving the holster, before tucking away his datapad. Folding his arms across his chest, he patiently waited as Ash made her way down along the branches, half climbing, half gliding when required. Flying in these dense forests wasn’t that easy after all.

“You are aware that only thirty percent of these forests are fully explored, yes? There are plenty of yet to be catalogued species, possibly dangerous ones," he pointed out.

“I’m aware,” the cardul smiled easily as she landed on the branch just above him. “Your concern is endearing, Tech, but the danger’s what makes exploring new places so much fun. Not knowing what you’ll find. Come on. I’ll show you.”

“Up in the tree?”

“Yes. You can climb, right?”

“Of course I can,” he scoffed, prompting a chuckle out of her before she reached down with her hand, pulling him up along the trunk and up to the branch she was perched on. Ash guided him upwards, climbing just as much as he had to; wings or not.

“I was not aware of how proficient you were at climbing as well,” he admitted after a while. It reminded him of why he’d sought her out in the first place. “I know you enjoy being high up in trees but not this.” She was in her element out here, he realised. Out in the wilds, exploring. With Crosshair back and being on Skeio, the squad were taking a well deserved break away from always being trapped on the Marauder.

“I have many talents.”

“That you do.”

They were reaching the top now, with the branches growing both thinner and fewer. It wasn't until Ash pushed away the leafy branches at the top that he realised she wanted to go all the way up. Poking his head through the canopy, he shot her a confused glance, when she gently hushed him, before making a motion to move slowly. Cautiously obeying, he lifted his head, frowning at the sight before him.

All over the leaves and branches, small yellow creatures had gathered. Looking much like sticks with long, flowy wings, they hovered about over the canopy, creating a sea of fluttering yellow hues.

“Aren’t they beautiful? They keep shifting between different hues. I wonder if they’re communicating,” Ash spoke quietly now, as they both were peering over the leaves. Tech was observing them quietly, as if trying to spot a pattern.

“Well, I could find out. It would just require observing them for a prolonged amount of time over the course of a few weeks. I am uncertain though if Hunter will appreciate that…”

“Maybe a scan will come up with something?” Tech pulled out the datapad at the suggestion, doing a careful scan of the creatures. His brow shot up.

“Oh. Well, I would not recommend touching them. Their wings are coated in a very strong tetrodotoxin.” Ash immediately lowered her head some more, her ears dipping downwards as well. Then she looked puzzled. “Wait, what’s that?” “Paralysing venom.” “Hm. Well. They’re pretty at least…”

“They do have a particular allure. And this scan will be quite interesting to look through later. Thank you for bringing me up here, Ash. But I would suggest a slow retreat, before one might collide with us. I think we both have had enough of falling, which could be the unfortunate result of touching them.” “Yep. Got it.” Nobody wanted a reminder of that. They started to climb back down, not stopping until Tech could plant his feet on solid ground again. He paused, with his hand on the branch above him, looking at the scan on the datapad. “Interesting. It seems those creatures will emit a glow when conditions become dark enough. From a distance and in the air, you will be able to see it now that you know which direction to look.” Ash watched him from her perch above, before she locked her knees around the tree branch and fell over, dangling upside down in front of him. The sudden movement distracted him, looking towards her over the datapad. She was stretching her wings now, unfurling them in full length, something that always amazed him. “Maybe I’ll take a look later then,” she nodded as he adjusted his goggles. He blinked confused when she leaned forward and planted a kiss against his temple, despite hanging upside down. “So, what did you want in the first place? I heard you said you wanted my assistance with something?” “Yes!” he recalled now, giving the datapad a small shake towards her. “I need your hand. Literally.” Ash’s brow shot up, tentatively stretching out her hand towards him. He brought his datapad over it, performing a scan on it. “What in Hel's name, do you need a scan of my hand for?” she suddenly laughed, watching him tuck away the datapad.

“That, my dear, is a secret. For now,” he raised his chin, a small smirk on his face, before stepping forward to carefully grasp her head, giving her a proper, if light kiss. “Hm, I think I prefer this right side up,” he admitted. “Oh, not very adventurous?” “Plenty. I just have my preferences.” She gave a light chuckle, before moving a little to indicate she was gonna drop down, before doing so. Furling her wings together, she glanced between the trees, towards the town. “I guess we should be headed back.” Tech grabbed her wrist lightly, pulling her against him. “I think we can wait a few more minutes,” he spoke against her hair, snaking his arms around her waist. She let him, resting her hands on his upper arms. “And here I thought you were in a rush to study the data of my hand. Not waste time out in the woods.” “Time spent with you is not wasted.” His tone was slightly scolding. “Please do not ever think otherwise.” Ash gave a low chuckle, though in truth she was warmed by his words. “Yes, sir,” she smirked then. She watched his eyebrow slowly raise up, as if he was determining how to read her tone and choice of words. When he lifted his hand to gently grab her chin, tilting her head up for another, proper kiss this time, her ears dropped low. “Hm, I should call you that more often, it seems.” Tech shook his head bemused. “I doubt anything could possibly be more alluring than you out in this forest. Fascinating fauna or not.” “Still not enough to tell me why you wanted the scan?” “No. A valiant effort though, I assume.” Ash gave him a broad smile before leaning up to kiss his nose and then pulling away, grabbing his hand instead, “We really should be going though, before Hunter starts thinking we’re too preoccupied out here.” “Agh. Of course he would.”

[ladylucksrogue]

Set in the Unexpected fix it universe, post war.

Wolffe has gotten the anti-aging treatment and is not having a good time dealing with it. As Liri cares for him, she decides to drop a conversation on him about the future.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63043483

[lizbiz99]

Day 5 of @clonexocweek ! And I think, out of all the days, the piece I made for this day is my favorite!

The future is looking pretty bright for Hunter and Naria. So we have three familiar faces and three not-so familiar. Let’s start with the familiar.

After the second prison break from Tantiss, Hunter and Naria settle down on Pabu. Naria will still got out every now and again to help force sensitive individuals escape the Empire, but for the most part, she spends a quiet life on Pabu. She and Hunter adopt Omega, obviously, and they have a pretty good life.

Now who are the other three kids? Well, the one on the far right is Keic. She’s a young Nightsister about Omega’s age that, in my AU at least, the Batch ran into while initially hiding out from the Empire. TL:DR; she helped them out when they got into some trouble with a small band of other surviving Nightsisters on the planet Laseel. Keic betrayed the clan for important plot reasons I don’t want to spoil now, and after the other Nightsisters were dealt with, Omega basically was like, “You’re obviously coming with us now.” And Keic ended up traveling with the Batch.

Think Omega and Keic’s dynamic aesthetic similar to Wednesday and Enid, except that Keic is more open than Wednesday

Then there’s the little babies! The one that Hunter is holding is named Lynn and the one that Naria is holding is named River. They’re Hunter and Naria’s twin boys who were born about a year and half following the destruction of Tantiss. They’re rambunctious little youngsters and keep the family on their toes. River grows up to be naturally talented with the Force while Lynn is more of a pilot/mechanic fella.

It’s a nice little family and I love them so much!

Day 1

Day 2

Day 3

Day 4

[w31rd0-art1st]

@clonexocweek

Word count: 519

Rating: general- no warnings apply

Paring: Dogma × Malia

(romantic)

Author's note!

Honestly not that happy with the pacing on this one. Also sorry for the late post, got busy.

Maila let out a soft sigh as she watched Dogma run around and play with their 5 year old son and 3 year old daughter. She had never been more glad to find a traumatized and shell shocked trooper in a downed crash.

She remember first meeting Dogma, she was in-between bounties and came across a downed Republic shuttle and decided to see if there was anything valuable. And she didn't know it then but the most valuable thing in the galaxy to her was infact in that crashed shuttle.

She was originally hesitant when she found him, but she still helped Dogma out of the crash. He was the only survivor and didn't come out Scott free. He was covered in bruises and scratches, thankfully nothing serious.

From that point on they started working together. Maila had constructed a helmet for Dogma, not only were clone faces/voices extremely recognizeable, his giant face tattoo made him stand out even more. So with some spare parts, hours of work, and countless swears, she had made a helmet with a voice changer.

Dogma and Maila worked on bounties together for a while before eventually falling in love, it wasn't an immediate thing and they both danced around it for God knows how long, but when they did eventually confess she was ecstatic.

Dogma had issues, lots. And although it was difficult at first, Maila helped Dogma figure out healthy coping mechanisms. He still had trauma and it seemed difficult for him to be around other clone troopers, so they stayed far away from Courscant and kept to the planets where they were less likely to be spotted. And that's how things were for a long time, at least until the war ended and the empire rose.

That's when Maila and Dogma hid, they went to the farthest planet that could find and decided to settle there. Together they built a house, started a farm, and eventually got married.

And, when Maila found out she was pregnant. She was surprised to find out how excited Dogma was. She had honestly expected him to be the kind of person who stayed far away from kids, but she seemed to be dead wrong. He immediately started taking over all the farm and housework, telling her to take it easy while she was pregnant.

And when their son was born, Dogma cried. He was amazing with kids, being able to get them to stop crying so easily, and he was so gentle with them. And he could easily make them laugh.

She smiled, watching as Dogma tossed around their oldest child while their youngest was clinging to his legs. She stood up and walked inside, deciding to get started on dinner.

That night, as Dogma ran his fingers through his now below shoulder length hair while looking in the mirror, Maila gave him a kiss on the cheek before getting into bed. He smiled at her before turning off the light and joining her. He pulled her close to his chest and kissed her forehead before mumbling. "Love you, Mesh'la." And closing his eyes.

[theburntbatch]

Commander Fox x OC [Kira Kintsugi]

Part of @clonexocweek 2025!

AN: Here's a little snippet into one of the many possible futures Fox and Kira could end up in!

TW: Discussions of Fertility, Future Pregnancy, and Possibly leaving the Jedi Order.

Preview:

"She has a bad feeling about this..."

Visions contrary to popular belief aren't necessarily of the future. They can be simple echoes or suggestions. Sometimes, visions just are.

The future is ever changing and weaved by countless factors as we live our lives. There is no true way to peer into the future and read it. One cannot simple stare at the expansion of time and see it all.

The Force Visions give occasional glimpses, but these are only possibilities.

It's a vision of one of these possible futures that leads Kira to where she is now inside the Halls of Healing.

She has a bad feeling about this.

Healer Che sits on the cot beside Kira and puts her hand on Kira's own in a comforting gesture.

“It seems your visions were correct.”

Kira is going to cry whether the tears are out of fear or joy remains to be seen.

“Oh.” Is all she manages to utter.

“It seems that you are able to carry children should you wish. Your body has simply never had a cycle due to your health, but now…”

“Now it thinks it's ready?”

“Yes.”

“How do you feel, Little Light?”

“I never thought this would happen. It never occurred to me that children could be in my future. But, then the visions kept showing me fireworks in blooming flowers and I… I just had to know.”

“Should I be preparing for a pregnancy in your future, Kira?”

“Perhaps. I know attachment is frowned upon, but I…”

“Kira… You do realize that if the force wills it so shall it be? As much as the Order is part of your life you are always welcome to follow a different path. No one will ever blame you for where the force guides you.”

“Thank you, Healer Che…”

“May I ask who the lucky individual is that has stolen the Little Light’s heart?”

Kira twiddles her fingers and then finally speaks.

“Commander Fox and I have been discussing what we would like the future to hold.”

“Ah, a fine choice.”

“He is everything I wished for. I used to dream of such possibilities but to live it…”

“It is your choice Kira. Just know we will always be here for you. Even if your future leads you on another path.”

-

Kira dreams that night.

She watches as Fox walks their children on the beach of an unfamiliar planet.

There's four little ones. Two walking at his side and two in his arms.

Fox looks happier in civilian clothes. He looks at ease. His hair is greyer and his prosthetics look different. Yet it's still undeniably Fox she's gazing at, even if she can't see his face as he walks farther and farther away.

Kira can't hear anything over the gentle morning waves, but they seem happy.

Maybe just maybe this is their future.

[clonexocweek]

Clone x OC Week 2025

Day 5: Future

How does the future look like for your pairing? Do they end up together? Do they retire on a quiet corner of the galaxy in their own little domestic paradise? Do they perhaps grow old and have children (or pets) together? Or, do they go their separate ways? Tell us what happens to them after all the adventures have ended.

Today's tags:

#clonexocweek #clonexocweek2025 #clonexocweek2025 day 5 #[insert clone name]* x oc

*please write the clone name without the brackets, e.g., crosshair x oc. If the clone is an OC, please use the tag "clone oc x oc".

[rexxdjarin]

Clone x OC Week 2025

Day 5 - Future

Captain Rex x OC: Mari Vontas

Today’s theme future is a part of Rex and Mari’s story that I’ve alluded to but hasn’t quite happened yet in any of my written fics. I won’t get in to too many details because I don’t necessarily want to spoil exactly how they get there but this is ultimately Rex and Mari’s entire family.

Little descriptions and explanations below the cut:

Rex & Mari of course

Wolffe and Gregor who have since gone into hiding from the Empire on Seelos with Rex and Mari after the destruction of the Clone Rebellion

Kai Vontas (shown here as a toddler and his adult mid-20s), their eldest son and the one who looks the most like Rex and the other clones. He’s more wise, introspective and dreamy because Spoilers: he is incredibly, powerfully force sensitive and is the other main reason Rex, Mari, Wolffe and Gregor decide to go into hiding. They protect him until he’s about 10 or so when The Ghost Crew finds them and recruits them into the Rebellion again where a certain former Jedi takes great interest in her little force sensitive nephew 👀 he becomes Ahsoka’s apprentice and spends time being trained by both her, Kanan and Ezra until he’s in his late teens. With Ahsoka’s disappearance, he eventually goes out on his own to search for her and using his force given gift of premonition and connection to the world between worlds is able to rescue her. They spend the latter years of the Empire’s reign researching and learning about Mortis, the World Between Worlds and Ahsoka’s connection to the Daughter of Mortis. Kai learns that when Ahsoka saved his fathers life on the Venator all those years ago she transferred some of the light side of the force to him thus forever cementing Rex’s bloodline as a Guardian of the Light Side of the Force and Ahsoka’s/The Daughter’s Protector. He goes on various missions to find his own kyber crystal and create his lightsaber, blue bladed to of course honor his Father, and to continue the Jedi Legacy for the foreseeable future.

Nisa Vontas (shown as a toddler and her late teens), their only daughter and the most rough and tumble of all their children. As you can see, she takes after Rex in both her hair color and her personality. She is a warrior in every way and follows in her father’s footsteps by training to be a skilled fighter and a great shot with both hands. Shes scrappy, fearless and cunning, traits she gets from both her parents. She joins the Rebellion and is considered one of the most gifted natural leaders of the several squadrons she commands. She’s a much better pilot than her Father, a fact she never lets him forget. After the fall of the Empire she goes on to helm multiple levels in the New Republic Navy with hopes of eventually outranking even Rex one day.

Mako Vontas (shown as a toddler and his late teens) is their youngest child and their most entertaining one. He is sarcastic, funny, rambunctious and every bit the gifted writer his mother is, though he prefers to use his skills to write jokes. He’s a lot like Fives and Hardcase though he looks most like Mari. Mako, like the rest of his family, joins the Rebellion and assists his Mom with rebel recruitment since he’s such an easy guy to get along with and trust. He’s also a gifted, engaging speaker and storyteller and spends many nights entertaining battle weary soldiers who are in desperate need of comic relief. After the fall of the Empire, he becomes a popular entertainer, tv personality and the driving force behind a tv show that educates about the history of the Republic Clone Troopers alongside his mother, his uncles Wolffe and Kix. Together they create a statue in the New Republic Capitol of Chandrila of a clone trooper, you might recognize him from the tattoo on his forehead, to commemorate and honor the lives and sacrifice of all clone brothers who died for freedom and a galaxy-wide holiday to honor the clones celebrated on the 5th day of the 5th calendar month every year.

And there’s a quick run down of Rex and Mari’s future. Rex’s legacy is unparalleled and his children continue it every day for not just him, but all their extended family.

[captn-trex]

the bitter truth

entry for @clonexocweek day 5: future

pairing: echo x kandam'aira

summary: after Kan makes a troubling realisation, she has to face up to the reality of what her and Echo's future looks like under the reign of the Empire

tags/warnings: hurt/comfort, unwanted pregnancy, vague discussion of abortion, panic attack symptoms, general discussion of family/parenthood, angst as all heck but echo is a supportive king <3

a/n: kan and echo return!!!!!! but... this is kinda a tough one. sorry. pls pls heed the warnings for this because it is a pretty heavy topic. it kinda builds on stuff from the last chapter but also stands by itself, for those who aren't familiar with their story :)

echo x kan masterlist / main masterlist / join my taglist / wc: 1.8k

“Fuck”

Kan stared down at the device in her hands, her mind blank and running through every possibility at the same time. She looked away and then back to it once more, the result it bared still the same.

“Fuck” she repeated, slumping back against the wall as the weight of consequences washed over her.

She thought they had been careful, making sure that this outcome wasn't possible. She had the implant, they used protection, yet somehow… here she was; with child.

The thought made her stomach turn, and she slid down the wall to crumple to the floor, tears springing to her eyes. She drew her knees into her chest, staring at the wall opposite as she tried to form a coherent thought. She couldn't see this through — that much she knew. She was steadfast in her views, that the rebellion came before anything, there was little that could shake that belief. It would be selfish of her, to abandon her duties, to give life to someone when she lived in such conditions.

A choked sob escaped her, her throat feeling like it was closing up, that she couldn't get air into her lungs fast enough to take a full breath. Her hands tangled in her hair, pulling at her scalp to try and ground herself, to bring her back to the present moment.

It was made difficult by the incessant and nagging voice at the back of her mind, the one that told her that this should be a happy discovery, that this was something she wanted. She couldn't allow herself to listen to it, she wouldn't. It wasn't realistic. She had to get rid of it.

It.

It was callous to call what should be such a joyous creation by the dehumanising title, but it was the only thing she could do to block out her true desires. Even though it was true, confirmed by the test she had just done, it was still hypothetical. The hypothetical child she might have if the galaxy was any different. It was not real.

A knock sounded at the door of the refresher, and Kan's head snapped up, a stroke of panic jolting through her body.

“M'aira? You alright?”

Kan's brows pinched at the care in Echo's voice, the edge of worry, of softness, that seemed to be reserved for only her.

“Yeah” she spoke up, surprising her self by how stable her voice sounded.

She knew that she had to tell him. She fully intended to, but for right now she needed to sort out her own mind, how she felt about it, before involving him.

A silence stretched out between them, the door concealing the way both of them held their breath. Finally, Kan heard Echo shift his weight, the scuff of his boot against the floor giving him away.

“You've been in there a while…” he spoke gently, “is everything okay?”

Kan swallowed thickly, trying to steady her voice once more before she spoke, but her words were stuck in her throat. Her head hit the wall with a dull thud as she gave up trying, and her tears streamed down the side of her face, dampening her already unruly hair. She tried to regain control of her breath at the very least, taking deep breaths and filling her lungs as much as she could without making it obvious she was doing so.

“M'aira?” Echo's voice cut through softly. Kan couldn't think of what to say. She couldn't tell him everything was fine, he was impossible to lie to after all. He could see straight through her. The shuffling of his steps could be heard once more, “I'm coming in… is that okay?”

Kan sighed, her voice impossibly small as she spoke up, “yes”

The door to the refresher zipped open, and Echo's eyes widened as he took in the sight of her, dishevelled and tear-stained on the floor. He was on his knees in front of her in a matter of seconds, and Kan rested her chin on her knees as she looked up at him with a pitiful expression, painfully aware of how defeated she looked. He seemed so alarmed, his eyes searching hers and brows pulled into a deep frown. Kan couldn't imagine what he was thinking, finding her like this.

“M'aira, ner cyare, what's happened?” his voice was almost a whisper as he took her face in his hands.

Kan didn't know how to broach the topic. “I… I'm—” she swallowed the lump in her throat, and her eyes unwittingly flicked to the side where the testing device lay, as if it would help her communicate the news.

Echo followed her line of sight, and Kan watched as his brain registered exactly what the item was. His breath stuttered, his gentle grip on her face loosening further, and his pupils seemed more dilated when his gaze returned to hers.

“Is that what I think it is?” he kept his voice neutral, and Kan nodded slowly.

She wasn't necessarily worried for his reaction to the news itself, but having to explain her point of view on the matter was a little more concerning. Echo was understanding, but she feared that this wasn't in the realm of things he could understand, given his experience of life being through the lens of masculinity only.

Kan could tell he was trying to find the right thing to say, a little out of his depth all things considered. The look in his eyes was intense, and yet it held no indication of his thoughts at all. As the quiet drew out, Kan began to feel doubt gnawing at her mind.

“I take it…” Echo began tentatively, “that this is not a good thing”

Kan chuckled despite herself, and the sound was pitiful through the veil of sorrow, “I don't know”

Echo gave her a gentle and sympathetic smile. “How are you feeling?” he murmured, pressing his forehead into hers.

Kan closed her eyes, feeling calmed by the gesture, and she took a deep, steadying breath, “I don't think I have an answer for that right now”

“Okay” he said ever so quietly.

He stroked his thumb across her cheek, tracing a line through her tattoos as if they were a maze, something he often did in quiet moments between them. The chill of the cybernetic's metal against her heated skin was a welcome reprieve, helping to ground her in a way only he was capable of.

“Can I hold you?” he whispered, making Kan's eyes flutter open.

She sniffled as she replied, “please”

Echo pulled her into his embrace, sitting back against the opposite wall of the refresher and cradling her body in his. He pressed a kiss to her head, and Kan could feel a little of the tension drain from her body. Kan knew Echo well enough to know that his mind must be running wild, every possible reason why she might be so upset mingling and creating some kind of monster formed of insecurities, taunting him in ways that she didn't want to imagine.

“I love you, Echo” she looked up at him and said the words with purpose. She didn't want that getting lost in translation, and she wouldn't let any contradictory thoughts linger in his mind.

Echo smiled down at her, his honey coloured eyes crinkling around the edges, “I love you too, M'aira”

Kan sighed, and reached up to hold his jaw. She could tell he wanted to understand, but was hesitant to ask.

“What are you thinking, cyar'ika?” he asked in a whisper.

Kan's eyes welled with tears once more without permission. “A lot of things” she replied, tracing his cheekbone with her thumb. She watched as Echo's throat bobbed, and he seemed to steel himself before speaking.

“If you don't want… this, with me, then that's okay” he uttered, “you can tell me”

It was obvious that he was saddened by the idea, even though he still held a strong exterior, and Kan's heart lurched in her chest.

She shook her head, “it's not that at all”

Uncertainty slid across Echo's eyes, “what is it then?”

Kan exhaled slowly, resting her head against his shoulder as she prepared to divulge everything she held in her mind.

“I'd love nothing more than to have a family with you Echo, I… I think you knew that” she began, “but… I can't—”

Kan puffed out a breath as she failed to contain her tears, and Echo rubbed her back tenderly, “take your time”

She gave herself a moment to collect herself before speaking again.

“I can't bring a life into this galaxy” she stated, her voice as steady as her resolve in feeling so, “I can't condemn my child to live under this Empire, without knowing if it would ever end. It wouldn't be fair, and I… I don't want that for you either” her voice cracked before she continued, “but I— I don't want you to miss out on something like this, especially if you don't have as long as I do”

“If you wanted to— if you… I just— if—” Kan sighed as words failed her, “I would understand if you—”

“M'aira” Echo cut her off, his tone that of warning, “I dont like what you’re insinuating”

Kan hung her head, turning away from his displeased frown, “I know”

Echo was quiet for a moment, then slipped his hand under her jaw to tilt her head back up.

“I'm not ‘missing out’ on anything. If you don't want this, then neither do I” he stated, speaking with a directness that anyone else might have been startled by. “I care far more about you, now, than anything else that might be, and as far as I’m concerned… this is a family” he held her tighter then, “we don't need a child to confirm that”

Kan let the edges of lips lift, first in a sad smile, but letting her mind linger on the idea, it turned more melancholic. “A little Echo would be very cute though” she commented.

Echo chuckled, shaking his head lightly, “not as cute as a mini M'aira, I'm sure”

The sting of tears in Kan's eyes reflected the pang of hurt in her heart, at the reminder that it could never be, not in the current climate.

“Hey” Echo took her chin, gaining her attention before her eyes could become too glazed over and mind too clouded by unhappy thoughts. “We'll be okay” he told her firmly, earning a tearful nod, “if it…”

Kan raised an eyebrow as he trailed off, “if what?”

“If there ever comes a time that you do want something like this… we could always adopt instead”

Kan smiled, and something like hope set alight in her chest, flickering into a small flame from only embers. “Yeah” she thought aloud, “yeah, I like that idea”

Echo gave her a warm smile as he bumped his forehead with hers. “I love you, M'aira” he told her, “this galaxy might be cruel, but I wont let it stop you from taking what you want from it”

Kan tilted her head and pressed a short but ardent kiss to his lips, pulling back to offer him a thankful smile, “I love you, Echo”

technical devotion taglist: @darthnihila @cdblake1565 @bunny7567 @heidnspeak @falling-among-the-stars @clones-cyare

[talesfrommedinastation]

@clonexocweek

I think this one needs no explanation. It's Tech and Sjael, roughly 23 years after they first met.

From clockwise: Tech Drummer (who, at this point, is a Lt. General for the Transport Union and has gone Full Belter), Meg Drummer, Dr. Sjael Drummer, and Graene 'Gray' Drummer.

Look at his gorgeous family, you go Tech du go finyish gut, Teki!

If you've read the crossover novels* Far Past the Ring and To Guard Against Titans, as well as the additional Tales from Medina Station, you'll know that Tech falls in love with Belter chemical engineer, Dr. Sjael Drummer, and things go from there.

Including Sjael getting pregnant with their firstborn, Omega 'Meg' Drummer.

Things happen. Which is, ah, putting it mildly.

A few years after Tech makes it back to Sjael and Meg, they have another daughter, Graene, who goes by 'Gray'.

While Meg is most assuredly Tech's daughter (look at her!), Gray, meanwhile, looks like any old reg could be her dad.

It's part of why, eventually, Meg works as a pilot and intelligence officer for the Rebellion (later Chief Intelligence Officer of the Transport Union), whereas Gray becomes an anthropologist whose research focuses on the last of the clones in the galaxy.

Tech's daughters grow up knowing all clones are their uncles.

Ergo, Meg focuses on fighting and rescuing alongside them, and Gray focuses on preserving and protecting them.

I might write about them, especially Gray, but it'll be a while.

[silverwings22]

Tech and Shiani: Future

Note: This pairing is from my completed fic Song of the Sea. Check it out here or AO3! Art and snippet below!

@clonexocweek

"This should be much more comfortable than a modified speeder." Tech patted the repulsar-lift he'd welded to a hoverchair's seat. "And more reliable than anything in the civilian sector."

"We are civilians, Tech." Shiani limped forward with a laugh, removing the foot from her leg brace before he helped her into the chair. She didn't necessarily need the help, but after everything they'd been through she wasn't losing a chance to hold his hand. "I've always been a civilian, and you retired."

"I'm well aware. But my skillset is still military, and with your track record of jumping headfirst into danger I believe it is relevant that you get something with military durability." He leaned over and kissed her temple before adjusting the controls for her, her hand resting on his shoulder.

Squeeze. Squeeze. Squeeze.

"Not jumping off of much anymore." She teased, a tentacle tapping his prosthetic leg at the same time her nail tapped his prosthetic arm. "Running out of limbs."

"You are correct." He paused, looking at the cybernetics and scars. Memories of Eriadu, the fall and subsequent capture, the horrors of Tantiss and what he'd been forced to become... And what Shiani had saved him from, with nothing but a siren's song and faith. "When these calibrations are complete, we should do something... safer."

"Baby M-... Omega goes seashell hunting with Crosshair and Batcher in the afternoons. Maybe we go with them?" Shiani reached for his hand, pretty sure she knew where his mind wandered. Hers did too, every time he lifted his googles to show the worst of the scarring on his face. They matched the blue-tinged ones all over her, but were nothing compared to the scars left in a soul.

No one would understand it like Crosshair, and she knew it.

"That sounds... acceptable." His fingers settled over hers, three quick squeezes that made her smile once again. "The sunset should be pretty, as well."

"And the lantern lights, on the way back. Love lights." She grinned.

"I know." He nodded, pleased that he did. Pleased to remember everything about her, as it came back to him bit by bit.

"And you are seldom wrong." She parroted with a giggle, making him squint at her.

"You are teasing." He nudged her.

"You love me anyway."

"That I do, cyar'ika."