#holotable
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getthrawnin · 3 months ago
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vimeo
"A good Navy is not a provocation to war. It is the surest guaranty of peace."
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yetanothergreyjedi · 11 months ago
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Jedi padawans asking people if they have games on their holo
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iconac · 1 year ago
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revan sleepwalks. they did it often as a child, though it faded as they grew older and had stopped altogether in their teenage years. older jedi on dantooine used to have to take care, as they would dress themself and wander out of the enclave and into the fields, sometimes into someone's farm. on coruscant it was an easier affair to manage, as they typically ended up in the room of a thousand fountains, in the kitchens eating food, or they would simply wander the halls until they were found.
onboard ships and out traveling during the early years of their training, they would be sure to lock the doors of whatever quarters they had. in the absence of that, they would actually restrain themself, binding their wrist with a simple length of rope to something heavy.
after the brainwashing, however, lyn sleepwalks and it used to scare the shit out of everyone on the ebon hawk, bastila especially; she would experience a vision of revan only to wake up with a start to find lyn looming in the doorway, seeming to look right through her, and for those brief moments of before gaining full awareness she would think that the ruse was up and rean had returned, ready to exact their revenge for what had been done to them. post-kotor, revan never fully recovers from the condition, and after periods of high stress they will often have bouts of sleepwalking. while the close quarters of the ebon hawk made it impossible to hide their condition, they don't enjoy advertising that they do it.
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escritosdemundo · 1 year ago
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Una mirada sobre el dolor y la muerte. Vivir con finitud. Sufrimiento existencial y cuidados paliativos de Silvina Dulitzky, por César Holot
En la introducción a su Origen de la Tragedia, llamada “Autocrítica”, Friederich Nietzsche se pregunta: “¿Acaso es el cientificismo nada más que un miedo al pesimismo y una escapatoria frente a él? ¿Una defensa sutil obligada contra la verdad?” Sin embargo, estamos ante una propuesta que se responde negativamente a esta pregunta. Silvina Dulitzky se atreve sin miedo a esta verdad. Una verdad…
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lightasthesun · 1 year ago
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Comprehensive Lexicon Guide for First-Time SW Fic Readers:
Flimsi/Flimsiplast = Paper
Flimsiwork/Datawork = Paperwork
Stylus = Pen
Datapad = Tablet
Comlink/Comm = Communication Device/Phone
Binders = Handcuffs
Chronometer = Clock
Spectacles = Eyeglasses
Chrono = Watch
Conservator = Refrigerator
Caf = Coffee
Nerfburger = Hamburger
Blue milk = Milk (literally blue)
Hubba chips = French Fries
Sweet roll = Doughnut
Flatcakes = Pancakes
Tabac = Tobacco
HoloNet = World Wide Web
Holovision/HoloTV = Television
Holodrama/Holovids = Movie/Videos
Holocamera/Holocam = Camera
Holomap = three-dimensional map
Holojournal = Newspaper
Holocube = Picture frame
Holotable = Projector
Holoscanner = X-ray machine
Holojournalist = Reporter
Flatholo/Holograph = Photograph
Sonic Damper = Active Noise Cancellation
Refresher/Fresher= Bathroom
Sonic Bath = Bath
Sanisteam/Sonic shower = Waterless Shower
Hydrospanner = Wrench
Hydro Flask = Water Bottle
Power Cell/Energy Cell = Batteries
Authorization Chip = Decryption key
Datatape = Disk
Datastick = Flash drive
(Personal) Com Code = Phone number
Datachip = SD Card
Synthflesh = Synthetic skin
Glowrod = Flashlight
Sparkstick = Match
Slugthrower = Gun
Slug = Bullet
Vibroblade = a blade that can vibrate at high frequencies, increasing its cutting power and penetrating ability (tactical knife)
Rangefinder = Rifle scope
Turbolaser = Cannon
Ion pike/Vibropike = Spear
Electro Staff = Stun baton
Blaster = Pistol/Rifle
Stun Blaster = similar to a Taser
Landspeeder/Airspeeder/Speeder = Car
Turbolift = Elevator
Slideramp = Escalator
Starfighter = Fighter jet
Rotorcraft = Helicopter
Hoverpack/Jetpack= Jet pack
Speeder Bike = Motorcycle
Skylane = Traffic lane
Railspeeder/Hovertrain = Train
Power Chair/Hoverchair= Wheelchair
Windscreen = Windshield
Podracing = Car racing
Dejarik = Chess
Sabacc = Poker and Blackjack combined
Galactic Rebels = Combat simulator
B'shingh = Dungeons and dragons
Jizz = Jazz music
Wailer = Singer (ie. Jizz Wailer)
Cantina = Bar or Pup
Para Sailing = Paragliding
Aurebesh = Alphabet
Credits = Money
Sleeping Pallet = Bedroll
Naming Day = Birthday
Youngling = Child
Galactic Basic Standard/ Basic = English
Medkit/Medpac = First aid kit
Hypo = Syringe
Medic/Healer = Doctor
Medcenter = Hospital
Bactapatch = Bandaid
Nanoweave = Fabric
Transparisteel = Glass
Plastifoam = Packing material
Durasteel = Steel
Plasteel = Plastic
Duracrete = Concrete
Slicer = Hacker (slicing = hacking)
Identikit = Passport
Minder = Therapist
Synthleather = Vinyl
Viewport = Window
Cooling Unit = Air-conditioning
Honeydarter = Bee
Slythmonger = Drugdealer
Spice = Drugs
Stimpill = Caffeine pill
Power Socket = Plug
Cutters = Scissors
Cycle = Day
Standard Cycle = 24h
Standard Week = 5 days
Standard Month = 35 standard days
Standard Year = approx. ten months
Tenday = literally ten days
Cigarras/Smokes = Cigarettes
Click = Kilometer or 'a moment'
Parsec = a unit of distance
Tweezers/Clanker/tin head/tinnie = Droid
Separatist = Seppie
Promise Ring = Wedding Ring
Body Glove = Jumpsuit
Slicksuit = Wet suit
Civvies = Civilian clothing
Carbonite = a metal alloy used to freeze a person in a state of hibernation
Hyperdrive = device that allows a starship to travel faster than lightspeed
Moisture vaporator = device that can extract water from the air, commonly used on tatooine
Glareshades = Sunglasses
Gasser = Gas Oven
Repulsorlift = technology that can create an anti-gravity field and is used for levitating heavy objects
Heating unit = Heater
Utility Droid = Roomba
Sunbonnet = a Clone trooper helmet
Bad Batcher = a defective Clone Trooper
Banthabrain = birdbrain/ a stupid person
Bantha fodder = waste of space/nonsense
Blast! = word of exclamation
Blasted! = s.o in anger or annoyance
Blaster-brained = dimwitted
Blaster fodder = cannon fodder
Blast off = Piss off
Brainless = Stupid
Bug/Bugger = used to refer to Geonosians
Forceforsaken = godforsaken
Full of Poodoo = full of shit
Poodoo = Shit
Kriff = Fuck
Jedi scum = derogatory term for jedi
Kark = derogatory expletive
Larty = LAAT/i gunship
Laserbrain = insult
Meat droid = derogatory term for Clone Troopers
Redrobes = Palpatines guard
Rookie/Shinie = newly recruited Trooper
Scum = insult to refer to bounty hunters/rebels
Sharpie = Sharp-witted
Sithspawn/Sithspit/Hellspawn! = expletive
Sleemo = Slimeball
Son of a bantha = insult
Wizard! = Cool
Spaced = dead
Hutt-spawn = Bastard
Karabast = exclamation of dismay
Stang = Crap
Buckethead/Bucketbrain = derogatory term for Stormtroopers
Bucket = Helmet
Nat-born = Natural Born
Roger Roger = affirmative/copy that
Droid poppers = EMP grenade
Sitrep = short for situation report
Backwater Planet = any planet that isn't part of the core system
Holocron = device that can project a three-dimensional image of a person/object and is used for communication or entertainment.
Kessel Run = a risky Operation. Commonly used as a metaphor in impossible situations.
Thermal Detonator= device that can create a powerful explosion like a grenade or bomb
Ray Shield/Energy Shield = creates a (protective) barrier
Rebreather = device that allows a person to breathe underwater or in toxic environments
Phrases:
Wild goose chase = wild bantha chase
That's bantha shit = that's bullshit
As slippery as a greased Dug = untrustworthy
Credit for your thoughts = penny for your thoughts
Cut the poodoo = cut the crap
to get your gills in a twist = get upset about something
Holy mother of meteors = holy mother of god
Oh my skies/ Oh my stars = exclamation of surprise
Stars' end! = exclamation of disbelief
What in the blue blazes = exclamation
When Geonosis freezes over/When it snows on tatooine = extremely unlikely
Who pissed in your power supply = who pissed you off
Blast it = damn it
By the maker = exclamation of surprise
Great karking Dragon = expression of disbelief
Lothcat got your tongue = equivalent of 'cat got your tongue?'
Sod it = expression of frustration
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moodymisty · 4 months ago
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Based off this post sorry I fucking HAD to
Warnings: Vaguely NSFW, Sicarius walking in on you and Guilliman
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Why must all his men break protocol? Sicarius wonders if the Codex is merely kindling to them, if they are so willing to break the sacred rules so easily.
Titus, Uriel, and now new men of second company have decided to be a pain. He only hopes reporting this to Guilliman himself will prove to be enough of a threat to his men and whip them all back into shape; Both current and future troublemakers.
In his frustrations, so wrapped up in his own mind on how to deal with this consistent issue, he fails to do a proper knock at Guilliman’s door. Instead he simply walks in, slamming the controls with more force than needed.
Within moments he freezes, as a musky, heavy smell hits his nose and the full noises of the room echo in his ears without the soundproofing in the way.
“Roboute!”
You squeal, hands wrapped tight in the short crop of Guilliman’s thin blonde hair. Most of his head and face are obscured by your skirt- and thighs, which wrap around his head like a vice. The holotable is on but unused, symbols placed randomly from your accidental touches as you sit on the edge.
Sicarius stands frozen, unable to will his body to move as his ears are suddenly filled with the sounds of you and his primarch’s moans- accompanied by then odd, wet sounds of whatever his mouth was doing. What is only two seconds is plenty to him, given how fast his mind moves in comparison to a baseline.
He… was aware of all the basics of sex and reproduction, but the intricacies of pleasure beyond that were spotty at best. He had no need to delve into such useless things, unlike some other, less proper Astartes.
He was also unaware you could do such things with your mouth.
How beneath a primarch’s holy stature; Guilliman’s words have guided armies but now he’s on his knees in penance and using his tongue like its just a-
A loud scream rips through your throat as you spot him and sit up, and Sicarius’ two seconds of internal thought is interrupted as you see him frozen in the doorway with a hand still on the door’s controls.
Guilliman of course is instantly on the defensive hearing your scream, rising to his feet- and removing his hand from his trousers - before reaching for his blade.
Until he realizes it’s Sicarius.
Guilliman relaxes with an angry look on his face; Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before using the same hand spread flat outward to try and shield some of you from Sicarius, and reserve some of your modesty, while you adjust your clothes.
“Did your time in the warp remove your ability to announce yourself before entering, Captain Sicarius?”
Sicarius is angry at his primarch now, and has zero care for you behind him hot faced and attempting to cover yourself to some level of decency.
“I, I did not think it was needed, my primarch. I have an urgent issue that needs addressing.”
Guilliman angrily breaths through his nose, and Sicarius can see the veins in his neck.
“Go. Leave. Whatever you came here for I am sure it can wait until we both forget this encounter ever happened.”
They are both painfully aware that each other have eidetic memories, but they can only hope this moment somehow slips from their minds.
“Yes, my primarch.”
Sicarius finally manages to get his armor to move, and Guilliman sighs. Sicarius swiftly takes two steps backwards and closes the door, facing it at it closes.
He stands there for a moment, the image of his primarch on his knees between the legs of a simple baseline, and a hand doing something in his trousers is seared into his mind. Why is his primarch doing such things when there is work to be done?
“Are you alright Captain Sicarius?”
A marine says as he walks by, looking at his dead expression as Sicarius turns to face him. He points the door.
“Is Primarch Guilliman busy-“ Sicarius quickly speaks, cutting him off.
“Yes he is busy, do not disturb him.”
Sicarius has a far off stare that makes the random Astartes look at him oddly.
“I need to leave. Do not go in.”
Sicarius walks off, rubbing his hair with his gauntlet and grumbling to himself.
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mae-lou-ron · 1 month ago
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For Granted
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Summary: Your beloved Gregor returns from a weeks-long mission for the clone underground, and after a long night filled with debriefings, he can’t wait to show you just how much he missed you while he was gone.
Pairing: Captain Gregor x f!reader
Warnings: 🚨 NSFW - SMUT AHEAD 🚨, 18+ MDNI, explicit sexual content and language, established relationship, mutual pining, cockwarming, unprotected PiV, edging, delayed orgasm, praise, soft!Dom Gregor, pleasure!dom Gregor?, oodles of fluff, Gregor can't keep his eyes (or hands) off you, color system safe words (only green used), aftercare, this is what I call a plot/smut/plot sandwich.
Word Count: 4,700
A/N: GOBBLE GOBBLE GREGOR GIRLIES. Happy to report I am posting this way earlier than I thought would be possible. (I finally did it @jetii, @captn-trex @lonewolflupe— again thank you for your constant inspiration and encouragement) This is the first smut I’ve ever posted and I guess decided to just go for it. I don’t know what to tell you, I just feel like Gregor would be such a soft and needy little pleasure dom. Okay, bone apple tea my fellow feral goblins. DO NOT PERCEIVE ME.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was late—very late.
The away team shuttle had touched down hours ago, but before you could greet Gregor properly, Rex had swooped in and intercepted him before he even made it down the gangplank. Their mission to the ruins of Tipoca City had proven successful, and Rex wanted to know everything.
For nearly two weeks, they dove beneath the old cloning facility's wreckage, searching the depths for anything that survived the orbital bombardment—especially for anything that could help them better understand the inhibitor chips. As you observed him from across the holotable, you noted the exhaustion that marked your beloved's features. His bloodshot eyes had dark circles beneath them, and though he tried his best to stay alert and focused, the weariness was clearly setting in. Yet, despite his current state, Gregor's gaze kept finding its way back to you, his lips curving into a small smile whenever your eyes met.
You listened and updated the data banks while Rex thoroughly questioned Gregor and his team about their operation. When Rex was finally satisfied with what was recovered, the meeting adjourned. As you gathered your things, you couldn’t help but steal glances at Gregor, hoping this was finally the moment for your long-awaited reunion—but he remained deep in conversation with Rex, their heads bent together. You sighed inwardly but couldn't help glowing with admiration for him.
He was probably the most lighthearted of his brothers, but Gregor showed unwavering dedication to his work—particularly when it involved Rex. After all, Rex had orchestrated Gregor's rescue from the Empire by sending the Bad Batch to extract him, saving Gregor from the Empire's grim plans for clone troopers like himself.
Rex's relentless pursuit to understand and neutralize the inhibitor chips strengthened Gregor's dedication to the mission. For Gregor, helping Rex wasn't just about loyalty—it was about preventing other clones from enduring the same fate. This devotion extended to everyone Gregor held dear, including you. He had become not only your lover but your best friend and closest ally in the growing clone rebellion. You had become one of the few anchors in each other’s lives that had been plagued with uncertainty.
From your first meeting, you were irresistibly drawn to him—and he made no effort to hide his magnetic attraction to you. Even now, his keen eyes would seek you out first whenever he entered a room. True to form, Gregor's gaze shifted to you over Rex's shoulder again, silently expressing his longing to be near you after so many days apart. You caught his eye and flashed a playful smirk, pressing a fingertip to your lips before extending it toward him. He would always wink in return. Though your relationship was no longer a secret, you both treasured this little ritual—a wordless exchange of adoration between the two of you.
Back in your quarters, you changed into your sleep clothes and settled into bed. Propped against pillows with your data pad in hand, you intended to review the new data decryptions while waiting for Gregor's return, hoping he might have more enticing ways to keep you awake. But the warmth of your bed and the quiet hum of recycled air lulled you to sleep with surprising swiftness. Your eyes grew heavy, thoughts of him blurred behind your lids until you drifted off.
A short while later, you stirred from a light sleep when you felt the bed dip. With gentle hands, Gregor retrieved your fallen data pad and slid under the covers behind you. His strong arms enveloped you, drawing you against his chest.
"Stars, I've missed you, my darling," Gregor sighed into the space between you. Your eyes fluttered open as his lips pressed into the back of your shoulder, sending a thrill down your spine.
The familiar spicy scent of him filled your nose—he must have hit the fresher before coming to bed. You hummed contentedly and turned within his arms to face him, your lips curling into a sleepy smile. "Missed you too," you murmured.
Gregor's tired eyes were filled with warmth and adoration in the dim light. His hand gently cupped your cheek, thumb brushing over your skin. "Sorry I'm late..."
"S'okay," you leaned into his touch. "You're here now, and at least I know you're not just another dream," you said into his chest as you yawned.
Gregor's heart thrummed at your words. The thought of you dreaming about him stoked the ever-present desire he seemed to hold for you. "How's the burn?" he asked instead, softly moving his hand down, fingertips skimming over the fresh scars on your hip.
"All healed now. Rex was right, of course," you grumbled. The former captain had benched you from field work due to the blaster fire that grazed you on your last mission. Though you'd insisted it was healed enough, Rex wouldn't budge. You knew he was right, but being sidelined grated your nerves— especially since it was your intel they were operating on.
"You really scared me for a minute there, you know," Gregor whispered, his voice lilted with emotion as his fingers traced the newly healed scar.
You kissed the tip of his nose and gave him a knowing smile. "You should know better than anyone, love. It takes more than that to keep someone down," you murmured, covering his hand with your fingertips. A pitchy chuckle escaped him as he pressed his forehead to yours, recognizing the echo of his own resilient spirit in your words. But his face fell incrementally as he found his next words.
"I still wish you could have been there, on Kamino," he confessed, his voice solemn. He didn’t have to say anything, but you knew how strange returning to Kamino was going to be for him. He had his brothers with him, but you’d hoped to be there for him too.
"You just wanted a chance to see me in my swimming gear," you quipped instead.
Gregor's eyes sparkled as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing the corner of your mouth with a quiet rumble. "Can you blame me? Thinking of you in any state of undress was all I had to keep me sane out there," his words and lips danced against your cheek.
You squirmed in his embrace as his hand trailed up and down your body, fingertips once again sweeping over the swell of your hip. "But I always love seeing my cyare like this…" he added, his warm hand giving you a playful squeeze, referring to the teeny tiny shorts you often wore around your shared quarters, just for him.
“Oh? And why is that?” You said with a raised eyebrow, feigning ignorance at how his eyes would habitually follow you around whenever you wore them. Not to mention the mischief he would promise when he saw you wearing any of his clothing, and tonight you had grabbed one of his shirts to sleep in.
“Because it’s what you’re comfortable in,” he sighed contentedly as his fingers slipped under the hem, grazing the soft skin at the small of your back.
Being under his focus with such reverence made your heart pound in your ears, his magnetic touch constantly drawing you in. Your fingers traced the line of his jaw. "Will you just kiss me, already?" you whispered, forgetting your teasing.
Gregor hummed as his lips met yours, sweet and gentle, his hands rediscovering every curve and contour. You melted into his radiating warmth, the steady rhythm of his heart. When you nibbled his bottom lip, it earned you a deep moan and a roll of his body against yours. Your fingers wove through his damp hair, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened, his tongue moving softly against yours.
Your lips danced together in a sensual rhythm, exploring and tasting with unhurried devotion as his fingers threaded through your hair, cradling the back of your head. Each sweep of his tongue against yours sent shivers down your spine, the kiss deepening with an intensity that made your toes curl and your heart race. Through every tender touch, he conveyed how deeply he'd missed you, and a familiar heat had bloomed between you fueled by days of delayed desire. The warmth of it coursed through your veins, spurring you on.
Eager to feel his skin against yours, you tugged off your shirt and pushed at his. Gregor chuckled softly and obliged, pulling off his shirt with deliberate slowness before tossing it aside. Under your fingertips, his body felt electric as you traced the familiar scars adorning his soft, golden skin. A shiver ran through him at your touch, and he groaned when your lips found his shoulder.
"Darling, I need you…" he purred, his thumbs hooking into the waistband of your shorts. His voice dropped lower, thick with desire. He paused, eyes intense and yearning as they locked with yours. "I've thought of you every night. Your kiss, your smile, the sounds you make for me." His fingers gripped your hips possessively, sure to leave marks. "Tell me, meshla," he breathed. "Did you think of me too?"
You let out a soft whine, your head falling against his chest as a breathy "Yes," escaped your swollen lips.
"Tell me..." he implored, his body rolling into yours once more. "Did I hear you say you dreamt of me?"
"Of course I did," you confessed softly, leaning close. Your lips brushed against the shell of his ear as intimate desires and details of your self-indulgent dreams tumbled from your lips. Gregor shivered, your warm breath tickling his skin. His fingers flexed as he strained to catch every hushed syllable. These whispered words were for him alone.
His chest rumbled with a deep, guttural sound. "Cyare," he whispered, the word dripping with honey.
You lifted your hips as he slid your shorts down your legs. Once free, he swooped in to kiss you again, this time with more fervor as his hands roamed your newly exposed skin. He swallowed the soft gasp that escaped your lips when his fingers dipped between your legs, growling appreciatively at how ready you were for him.
You whined at his touch, your fingertips curling around the base of his neck. Gregor sighed, his breath hot against your shoulder as he trailed kisses down to your collarbone. You heard him chuckling quietly as his fingers teased your sensitive flesh. "…and I’ve barely touched you yet,” he teased.
You huffed in response and started pushing his shorts over his hips, firmly grasping a handful of his taught backside in the process causing him to hoot and giggle softly. "I told you what I’ve been thinking about… come here…" you begged, your voice barely above a whisper. Once free of his own clothing, you hooked your leg around his waist, drawing him to you. Gregor hissed at the contact, his hips instinctively rocking against yours. You felt the head of his length glide along your entrance and up to your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core.
Gregor let out a deep hum, gathering his self control. "I can't say no to you," he grunted, slowly sliding his length back up and down a few times before notching at your entrance. His lips met your forehead as he eased into you. You bit your lip as your body welcomed him, eyebrows furrowing at the sudden fullness. Despite the delicious sting of him at first, you craved him—eager for more, for all of him. But Gregor picked up on your body’s signal and paused. His head came back to regard you, eyes filled with concern and love.
"Cyar'ika," he whispered tenderly. His thumb traced your cheek and trailed down to your lips. You smirked, drawing the digit into your mouth with a soft moan, swirling your tongue around it. Gregor's eyes locked onto yours, awestruck at the sensation. "That's it…good girl," he purred, the wolfish smile that followed his praise sent a shiver down your spine. He withdrew his thumb from your mouth with a quiet pop, and brought it between your bodies, using the wetness to circle your clit.
Your body quivered, soft moans and whimpers escaping your lips as he continued his feather light touches, sending more of that delicious heat coursing through you. Your walls fluttered with pleasure, silently urging him to fully sheath himself within you. As his hips finally met yours, you both exhaled deeply, savoring the intense connection of being completely joined together.
"Let’s stay like this for a little while, hm?," he murmured against your hairline between soft kisses. "I just want you close," he breathed, his hand trailing tenderly along your spine.
You hummed in confirmation, melting into his affection. "I love you," you sighed, fingers combing through his hair. Your bodies fit together perfectly, hearts beating as one, breaths mingling in gentle pants. Being with Gregor, it never felt like enough—you both craved an impossible closeness. These tender moments were precious, when he held you like this, driven by his pure need to feel you around him, to eliminate any space between you.
"And I love you." Gregor's kiss was so tender it made your head swim. His lips traced reverently across your skin, each caress a silent vow, his heart full at how perfectly you melded together. When the kisses and touches naturally grew more heated, you felt him stir within you as your bodies instinctively began to move. With gentle purpose, Gregor rolled you, pressing your back into the mattress and caging you in with his large frame. His lips found that spot on your neck as he began a slow, intense rhythm that drew a litany of soft moans and whimpers from you. Your nails trailed down Gregor's back as he pressed against that sweet spot deep inside you. He dragged his length almost completely out before thrusting back in, burying his face in the crook of your neck.
"Stars… cyar’ika, you…" he panted, his movements becoming more deliberate. You wrapped your legs around him fully, urging him deeper, whimpering in is ear to do it again. The tension between you reached its peak all too quickly, weeks of anticipation setting your every nerve ending on fire. Gregor murmured sweet praises against your skin, intent on bringing you there together. You teetered on the edge, your body trembling with each slow thrust. "Gregor," you breathed in a desperate plea. "I'm..."
“I know,” he grunted. “I’ve got you…” He gentled his movements to a pace he knew would send you over. He felt your entire body tense, arching into him as your climax struck you with a sudden intensity. A shuddering moan escaped you as your hand in his hair tightened, tugging at the strands. He couldn't hold back any longer—the way your walls fluttered around him, squeezing him so tightly, your grip in his hair, the sounds you were making—it was all too much, and he gladly fell over the edge with you.
His hips jerked as he moaned your name, pressing flush against yours as he found his release inside you. You held him close while you both trembled and panted through waves of pleasure. His hips rolled gently against yours through the aftershocks. As the hazy bliss settled over you both, Gregor began dotting your face and neck with tender kisses.
“Gregor…” you protested lazily, lips curling in a fond smile. He always melted into his softest self in the afterglow.
He chuckled quietly, nuzzling your neck. "What? You know I can’t ever get enough of you…" His lips brushed against your skin, making you tremble slightly. You were grinning ear to ear now, despite your half-hearted protest.
“That makes two of us,” you said huskily, floating down from your high.
You lay tangled together in peaceful silence, your breathing and heartbeats gradually returning to normal. The gentle rise and fall of his chest against yours created a soothing rhythm that made you feel completely at ease. A while later, when your combined arousal began to slip down your thigh, Gregor shifted, preparing to retrieve something to clean you both up.
“Don't you dare," you warned teasingly, tightening your entire body around him, making his breath hitch.
“Cyar’ika…” he said in a low, playful voice, twitching inside you. “Careful now…”
You smirked, loving the way his voice dropped an octave. "Or what?" you challenged, your eyes gleaming with mischief.
Gregor chuckled, a predatory grin spreading across his face. "Oh, my darling," he chuckled lightly, his hand sliding down your body and gripping your ass, making you burst into giggles, "You love playing with fire, don’t you,"
"Mmm, I do when it encourages you to ravish me all night, love," you said with a dramatic flair, unable to hide the mirth from your voice, reminding you of the intimacy you’ve built with Gregor. It was fiery and magnetic, but always fun. You loved to push each other’s buttons to see how far you could go. After all, you cherished these quiet moments together when there was no need to rush.
Gregor groaned at your words, his grip on you intensifying. "Oh, you're in for it now," he rasped as he swiftly rolled onto his back, pulling you over with him to straddle his hips. He sat upright and curled his hand around the base of your neck, pulling you into a searing kiss. The sound that escaped you at this new angle was absolutely sinful, making him twitch inside you once again. He immediately began a gentle pace, guiding your hips into his shallow thrusts. You gripped his shoulders tightly, seeking an anchor amid the electricity firing deep within you. Your oversensitive bundle of nerves dragged against the base of his length, making you grind down on him more desperately.
Sensing your growing urgency, Gregor gently slowed your movements. His hands caressed your sides soothingly as he looked up at you with adoration. "Shhh cyar'ika, look at me…" he murmured, his voice low and tender. Your eyes fluttered open to gaze into his, dark and warm and focused on you. "I know, it feels so good." His voice strained, thumbs traced circles on your hips as he guided you back into that slower, more deliberate rhythm Gregor loved to torture you with. You whimpered at the change of pace, but soon found yourself melting into the languid, sensual motion. Gregor's eyes never left your face, enjoying watching you give in. "That's it, just feel," he whispered. "There’s no rush. I’ve got you…"
Gregor's movements periodically slowed to a halt, prolonging the intense pleasure building between you. Each time, he held you close, guiding you both toward that long-awaited peak. His arm snaked beneath you, holding you to him with effortless strength, preventing you from taking him completely. He knew exactly how much to give, bringing you to the edge over and over. He savored the sounds you made during the slow, frustrating dance, careful not to overstimulate as he kept you balanced on the edge of a knife.
Your body trembled, every nerve ending alive and hypersensitive, your breaths came in short, desperate moans. You clung to him, nails digging into his back and his scalp as you fought against the overwhelming urge to let go, somewhere between savoring every exquisite moment of him inside you and every cell in your body screaming for release. Gregor felt your body go rigid and quiver, he glanced down noticing how tightly your toes were curled, then up to your eyes squeezed shut in concentration.
"Cyar'ika, what's your color?" he managed to say through the haze. He himself was hanging by a thread.
"Green," you groaned gently. "Please, I need..."
Gregor's eyes snapped open at your words, his grip on you stuttering. "Tell me what you need," he nearly growled. "I need to hear you say it, cyar'ika."
“Please...” you breathed. “I need to come."
With a low groan of approval, Gregor knew he’d pushed you to a new limit, and captured your lips in a soft kiss, slowly lowering you down fully onto his length once more. "Then come for me, my love, let go…" he murmured against your lips as he loosened his hold on you incrementally, encouraging you to writhe against him at your own pace. He swallowed the moans that escaped your throat as you did so, your fingers tangling in his hair again as you finally let yourself go.
He held you to him as your body shook, waves of ecstasy sweeping through you, your inner walls pulsing wildly around Gregor's length. He buried his face in your shoulder, his own climax following yours as he thrust himself deep inside with a low, guttural sound. You clung to each other, riding out the lingering tremors, your core gradually relaxing its grip on him. Hearts raced and chests heaved as you both savored the moment. With one more gentle rock of his hips, he pulled you down, creating a delicious pressure that sent one final, intense ripple of pleasure coursing through you, reducing whatever composure you had left and turning you into a whimpering mess.
“Thats it,” he soothed as you collapsed against him, head lolling forward as he secured you against his broad chest. You hummed contentedly, nuzzling into the crook of his neck as your breathing slowly steadied. Gregor's fingers continued their gentle caress along your skin, calming your tense muscles and fluttering heart.
“You did so well,” he praised. “We haven’t gone that long before,” he grinned at you, giggling softly, a sheen of sweat on his skin.
You chuckled softly, feeling an ache in your hips and knees. "Mmm, I think we both needed that," you murmured, wincing slightly as you shifted your legs around his frame.
“Here, I’ve got you,” he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips as he helped you shift positions, knowing your joints sometimes didn’t love it as much as you did.
His strong arms cradled you as he maneuvered you off him, finally slipping out and eliciting a soft sigh from you. He bit his lip, barely suppressing a groan as he glanced at the evidence of your passion. Once you were settled, he quickly jumped out of bed and disappeared into the fresher, returning moments later with a warm cloth.
His fingertips trailed up the outside of your knee, reminding you he was still there. You smiled and opened up for him to gently clean you up. His touch was tender as he took care of both of you. Once finished, he tossed the towel aside and crawled back onto the bed and got to work on massaging the soreness from your legs.
You sighed contentedly as Gregor's skilled hands worked out the tension in your joints. "You're too good to me," you murmured sleepily. He responded with a soft chuckle, his touch gentle yet firm as he eased away any lingering discomfort. “Love, I know you’re exhausted, come here…”
He chuckled and planted tender kisses on each knee before settling beside you, drawing you close against his chest. You nestled into his warmth, savoring the lazy patterns he traced on your back with his fingertips.
You tilted your head up to press a gentle kiss beneath his chin, savoring the closeness. “I’m so happy you’re home…”
Gregor sighed contentedly. “Me too.”
You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you should bring up his time on Kamino. The topic always felt delicate, and you didn't want to stir up difficult memories. But his peaceful expression gave you courage.
“How was it being back there?" you asked softly.
“Well, the first few days were…strange, but not in the way I thought they would be,” he confessed quietly.
“How so?” You pressed a chaste kiss to the side of his neck, absentmindedly inhaling his scent.
“Some clones considered Kamino their home, but I’ve never really felt more at home than I do here. With the underground. With you.” His voice stuttered on the last few words.
You felt your heart swell, and you pulled him closer, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Good, because I feel the same way…”
Gregor's arm tightened around you, and you felt him release another contented sigh against your hair. In this moment, everything felt exactly as it should be - no missions, no war, just the two of you finding solace in each other's arms. You held one another close, happy to be back in one another’s orbit.
"Darling..." Gregor's voice took on a somber tone as he tightened his arms around you. "I received new orders from Rex tonight." He paused as you tilted your head back to look at him, his expression serious. You felt your body tense, preparing for the worst. "And, well, it’s not just that," he continued, his lips curving into a frown.
“What is it?” your hand brushed his disheveled hair out of his eyes, your heart clenching at the thought of him being gone again so soon, without you. Rex had yet to clear you for your injury, and you felt your stomach drop at the thought of being left behind on base again for another mission.
Gregor took a deep breath, as if to steady himself. "I know it's short notice, but... I told Rex you’d have no problem shipping out by midday tomorrow..." He gazed at you intently, his trademark mischievous smirk betraying his attempt at a somber expression. He was a terrible liar.
Your eyebrows shot up at the realization.
Now his face was in a full grin. "Mhm...you’re coming with." He quipped. “Though I’m sure Rex wouldn’t mind if you wanted to stay behi—”
“No!” you trilled, propping yourself up onto your elbow. “I’m ready,” you insisted.
“You don’t even know what the mission is yet, love,” he chuckled, it was hard to resist mirroring your excitement.
“I don’t care,” you sighed. “I’ve been cooped up…it’s boring when everyone is gone,” you groaned.
“Don’t you mean it’s boring when I’m gone?” Gregor teased.
You rolled your eyes, but couldn't hide your smile. "Maybe," you admitted, snuggling back into him. "But don't let it go to your head." Your fingers traced lazy patterns on his chest as you soaked up the warmth of his presence, grateful to soon be back to doing what you do best.
Gregor laughed softly, his chest rumbling beneath your fingertips. "Have we met?," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. As you lay there, wrapped in each other's embrace, a sleepy silence settled over you both. The anticipation of being briefed for tomorrow's mission hummed just beneath the surface, but for now, you were content to simply exist in this moment.
“You’re a terrible liar, by the way…” you said as you curled into him. He just chuckled softly as you let your eyes close, feeling the tendrils of sleep start to curl around you.
Soon, the familiar weight of Gregor's body and gentle rhythm of his breathing lulled you into a peaceful state. His fingers continued their soothing caress along your back, growing slower and more languid as sleep began to claim him too. The last thing you remembered before surrendering was the gentle press of Gregor's lips against your forehead and his whispered "Ner cyare..." You mumbled a sleepy response, already half-lost to dreams of tomorrow's adventures.
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phoneycam · 6 months ago
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(brainrot 5(?))))
Soulmates experience the same nervous or involuntary tics at the same time.
It all starts as an innocent inside joke from the 212 troopers. How their high officer where the best and one of the key proves of it was how in tune they are with eachother. That thought slowly evolved with every interaction they were able to witness until it turned into a kind of game, trying to understand just how deep the synchrony went. Space bingo if you will.
1.
Ever since he decided to have a beard, he touches it. at first it was because of the new sensation, later to show it of as one should do, then to display knowledge in hopes to seem more wise and finally evolving in his "in deep thoughts" pose.
It was on the early battles when it first happened. The clones weren't comfortable enough yet to being openly without their buckets and so, the moment both officers moved to rest their chin on their hand, Cody hit his helmet causing him to make an aborted movement pretending that he was trying to adjust it when the general turns to look at him. There is a pregnant pause around the holotable before Obi-Wan turns back to the holotable and the commander has to survive the rest of the meeting with the constant snickers from his brothers inside his helmet.
2.
In times of high stress situations he tends to scratch the back of his head, particularly the place where his padawan braid was, an unconscious tick he picked first from his time in Melidaan. He got to overcome it over the years when he came back to the temple, only to pick it back up after Qui-Gon died and he became a knight.
The first time the troopers note it is in Christophsis. Anakin is being he's usual reckless self causing Obi-Wan the go grey early with his invisible ship against a hole separatist fleet, and he doesn't even realize he's hand moving up to pass it over the back of his head, nor that his commander repeated the exact same movement at the exact same time, too distracted with the fight in sight. The other troopers on the bridge however? they did notice.
3.
This one happened before they where about to land in a highly unknown planet with an astonishing lake of information. They were walking into a trap, not that they knew at the time that.. or well.. not until both General and Commander deepened their frowns and mumbled quietly "I have a bad feeling about this". This time they did notice it tho and turned to look at eachother with a surprised look while the soldiers around them are gapping with a collective thought of "Oh kark we are so doomed" and "lmao check another one for the team."
4.
A defect of using a helmet for so long, is that you start forgetting how to keep a straight face and our dear commander, starts slipping his controlled mask especially when faced with stupid decisions. This is one of the main reasons him and Anakin do not get allong well. Because one of the first times they were all reunited strategizing their next move, Anakin decided to offer his brilliant idea and almost cried when faced with the pure power of the combined disgust Obi and Cody were inadvertently showing.
Ahsoka and Rex thought it was hilarious, Obi-Wan had to apologies multiple times before his formed padawan stopped sulking and demanding Obi-Wan to spend less time with his commander and the rest of the troopers just checked another mark.
5.
Kamino has never and will never be an easy place to live in. The facility was a nightmare and no one knew this better than the clones themselfs, between the kaminioan, the trainers and the Alpha batch, life was a challenge and any little quirk can be a dead sentence if you're not careful enough. Cody knows this and learns to deal with it.
It's in the middle of a peace negotiation with the local authority when they noticed it.
It was a small group for this mission, just Cody, Obi-Wan, Boil and Waxer accompanying a Coruscant team of negotiators. The prime minister of the planet was being unpleasant during the whole meeting, with nasty comments, senseless demands and baseless accusations towards eveyone. All bark, no bite.
The jedi was leading the negotiations putting him in front of everyone with the commander by his side; Waxer and Boil standing just behind them notice a pattern pretty quickly. Everytime the minister said something bad about the jedi or the clones, both of their officers would each start drumbeating their fingers with their thumb. A small thing that no one else could notice because their hands were behind their backs, but remarkable enough for the troopers witnessing it as a checkable tic.
6.
Dex notice the next one.
Obi-Wan likes to take every clone he can to visit Dex's reastaurant at least once, but the most regular companion is always the cammander. Not that it bothers him, in fact, he is rather fond of the good commander, but he can't help but notice how everytime the principal door opens a little bit harder than needed, they both will tense up and inmediatelly look at eachother.
And yeah idk, i just think it's neat as an idea. I can imagine a lot more of little scenes like these. Maybe some time latter both realize, maybe they know, maybe they will purposely start doing some to just mess with the troops, maybe it would save the galaxy somehow... just saying..
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jetii · 5 days ago
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Event Horizon
Chapter Twenty-Three: Determination
Chapter WC: 13,883
Chapter Warnings: drama!!! some wound stuff, obligatory emotional turmoil tag even though we all knew that was coming
A/N: I am back! I was able to build up my draft chapter backlog again, starting with this one. It's a lot, but we can all rest easy knowing this will be the last one like this for a while.
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???, 21 BBY
The moment the two of you step into the hallway, it becomes clear that this isn't a minor glitch or an unexpected turn of events.
The alarms are still blaring, and the ship's computer is still repeating the same message over and over again, and the emergency lighting has turned the hallways into a sea of red and black, making it difficult to see where you're going. Rex and you hurry towards the bridge, following the trail of panicked troopers and harried officers as they rush around, trying to get the situation under control.
Halfway there, a group of troopers rush past you, and one breaks away, waving the others on as he jogs towards you and Rex. You spot the Republic cog on his faceplate and feel a flood of relief.
"General, Captain," Jesse salutes, sounding a bit breathless. His helmet is slightly askew, and his armor is covered in dust, his boots scuffed and dirty. You watch as he glances down and freezes, and it’s only then that you realize Rex is still holding your hand.
"Jesse," Rex greets, not letting go, and you do your best to keep a straight face as Jesse clears his throat. "What's going on?"
"There’s been an explosion in the engine bay," he answers quickly. Rex's grip on your hand tightens, and Jesse gestures down the corridor, his voice rising over the alarms blaring. "One of the hyperdrives blew out and triggered the failsafe on the others.”
"How did this happen?" you ask sharply. You have no idea what the technicalities are behind hyperdrives and how they work, but it doesn’t take a genius to understand the implications of Jesse's words. A single failure means that the ship is now stranded in the middle of nowhere. A series of failures means something else entirely. "Are we—"
"It's going to take some time to figure out the cause, General," Jesse interrupts, his voice tight. He glances around nervously and drops his voice to a low whisper, his words almost lost beneath the roar of the alarms and the chaos surrounding you. "But I think someone set off an explosive charge on purpose."
“Sabotage?” Rex repeats incredulously. He looks at Jesse in shock and lets go of your hand, stepping closer, his voice rising above the noise. "Are you sure?"
"It's the only thing that makes sense," Jesse replies grimly. "We're lucky the blast didn't kill anyone."
"We need to get to the bridge," you say quickly, and Jesse nods, motioning for you to follow him.
You and Rex fall into step beside him, the three of you weaving through the chaos, dodging around the crew and the troopers who are rushing in the opposite direction. You reach the doors to the bridge and wait impatiently as they open, the three of you stepping through, and the alarms cut off abruptly. The room is eerily quiet after the loud commotion of the corridor, and it takes a moment for your ears to adjust.
The bridge is a hive of activity, with everyone doing their best to deal with the emergency, but as soon as you enter, all eyes are on the three of you, the expressions ranging from fear and worry to anger and confusion. Anakin and Ahsoka are standing around a holotable with Admiral Yularen and a handful of technicians, their voices raised in anger, and their attention shifts to you as you approach.
“It’s about time you showed up," Anakin snaps, his jaw clenched, and you frown at his tone. His eyes move between you and Rex, his lips curling into a sneer. "We're in the middle of a crisis here. What took you so long?"
The immediate urge to defend yourself rises up inside you, and your hands clench at your sides, a surge of indignation rushing through you. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Rex tense and shift on his feet.
He glances at you, and the two of you share a look, a silent conversation passing between the two of you, a reminder to stay calm. You take a deep breath and force your expression into a mask of calm.
"What's the situation?" you ask, ignoring Anakin's question, and Rex moves closer, standing beside you. His presence is reassuring, and you can't help but think of what happened just minutes ago. What might've happened if the two of you hadn't been interrupted.
A flush creeps up your neck, and you push those thoughts aside, focusing on the task at hand. There'll be plenty of time to think about that later.
"We're in trouble,” Anakin growls.
"I'd gathered that," you reply dryly. Ahsoka and Jesse glance at each other, the former rolling her eyes, the latter shaking his head. Rex shoots you a warning look, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes as well, turning back to Anakin. "Do we have a damage report yet?"
"Most of the main systems are offline," Yularen replies, his voice calm and collected, a stark contrast to the anger and frustration emanating from the two of you. "And we've lost contact with the rest of the fleet."
"What does that mean exactly?" you ask. Yularen takes a deep breath and glances at Anakin, who waves his hand impatiently, his mouth pressed into a thin line. He turns back to you and gives you a grim look.
"We're trapped in the middle of nowhere," he answers flatly. "At the current speed, it'll take us over two months to reach Kamino, and that is if we make it through the Rishi Maze.”
"Is the hyperdrive salvageable?" Rex asks, his eyes moving between the admiral and the techs, who are all shaking their heads. He sighs and rubs the back of his neck, his brow furrowing. "So what's the plan?"
"We're going to have to repair the ship and wait for help," Ahsoka says, her hands on her hips, and you can hear the frustration in her voice. You look at her, and she meets your gaze, her expression hardening. "I'm working with the maintenance crews to fix the engines. It shouldn't take more than a few hours."
"We need to figure out why this happened," you add, turning to Jesse, and he nods, his expression solemn. "Did you find the source of the explosion yet?"
"Not yet, sir," he replies.
"I'll help with the investigation," you offer. Jesse and Rex exchange a look, and you can sense their unease. Jesse frowns, his eyes narrowing slightly, and his gaze moves between the two of you. "What?"
"With all due respect, General," Jesse says carefully. He looks at Anakin, and when the other man doesn't speak, he continues. "This may have been an attempt to assassinate a high-ranking officer. If it was, the investigation will need to be handled with discretion. Someone on board this ship might be the culprit."
"And by handling the investigation discreetly, you mean not including the person being targeted in the investigation," you retort, crossing your arms over your chest, and Jesse winces. Rex sighs and steps forward, his hand reaching out to grasp your shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. You shrug him off and glare at Jesse. "That's not happening."
"If it was an attempt to kill you, General, it's possible that the attacker will try again," he explains, his tone apologetic. He hesitates, and when you don't respond, he squares his shoulders. “It would be safer if you were to stay on the bridge."
"He's right," Ahsoka adds. She meets your gaze, her eyes full of concern, and her voice is gentle. "You'll be safer up here."
"I can handle myself," you snap, and Ahsoka shakes her head.
"We know that," she replies. She motions to the holotable, and her mouth curves into a small smile. "But let us handle this. Okay? We'll figure out what happened. I promise."
"Fine," you mutter, and Rex gives you a sympathetic look, his hand returning to your shoulder. He squeezes it once more and turns to Jesse, his expression shifting from sympathetic to stern.
"Let me know if you need anything," Rex tells him.
"Will do, sir," Jesse nods. He looks at Ahsoka and tilts his head towards the door, and she falls into step beside him, the two of them heading towards the exit, their voices low and urgent. You watch as they leave, and a pang of regret shoots through you.
"This is bad," Anakin mutters. You glance at him, and his eyes meet yours, the irritation and anger gone, replaced by weariness and worry. He sighs and runs a hand over his face. "Sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you."
"It's okay," you sigh, and he snorts, giving you a wry smile. You shrug and look away, a grimace twisting your face. "Well, it's not. But I get it."
"Thanks," Anakin mutters. He shakes his head and rubs the back of his neck, his gaze moving between you and Rex. "Can you two make sure everything is under control? I need to go speak with the Chancellor."
"Of course," Rex answers. Anakin gives him a curt nod and turns away, marching towards the door with Yularen at his heels. 
You watch them go, the unease in the pit of your stomach growing. The thought of having to stay on the bridge while everyone else does their best to fix the situation makes you want to scream. The desire to run off and search for the culprit is overwhelming, but you know better than to do that. 
And even if you didn't, Rex wouldn't let you.
"You're not happy about this," Rex murmurs, his voice low enough that only you can hear.
"No, I'm not," you admit. You turn to him, and he raises an eyebrow, his lips curving into a faint smile. You narrow your eyes and poke his chest. "This is not funny."
"I didn't say anything," Rex chuckles. You glare at him and cross your arms over your chest, and he gives you a sympathetic look. He lifts his hands and rubs them over his face, letting out a tired sigh. "I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"For earlier," he says quietly, and a rush of heat floods your body. "I shouldn't have said what I said."
"Rex..."
"It was inappropriate," he says, cutting you off, and the guilt in his voice makes your heart ache. His head drops and he rubs the back of his neck, a small frown tugging at his lips. "I...I don't know what I was thinking."
"Hey," you say, and his eyes snap up to yours. "It's okay. It's...we're both stressed and worried. We're dealing with a lot right now."
"That's no excuse," he mutters. His brow furrows and his gaze drops, and the shame and guilt that emanate from him are so strong that it takes everything in you not to reach out and pull him into your arms. But you can't do that. Not here. Not now. And not until the two of you have talked about what happened.
"Look, we'll talk about it later," you tell him gently. He glances at you and nods. "Okay?"
"Yeah," he sighs, and you can feel his mood shift, the tension and stress melting away, replaced by a quiet resignation. His shoulders slump, and a resigned smile spreads across his face. "You're right."
"I usually am," you joke. Rex rolls his eyes, and you give him a quick grin before looking around the bridge. "Alright, we should—"
"General," a technician interrupts. He gestures towards the holotable, and you walk over, Rex following close behind. The image of a star chart is projected above the table, and the technician taps on the display, zooming in on the image. “We’re receiving a distress signal from a nearby planet. It's coming from the surface."
"That's odd," Rex mutters, his brow furrowing. He leans closer and studies the image, his head tilting to the side. "There aren't any habitable planets in this system."
"Maybe it's automated," you suggest.
"Possibly," the technician agrees. 
He taps a few more buttons, and the image changes, showing the planet from above. The landscape is covered in a dense, gray fog, obscuring most of the details. You can just make out the outline of a single structure, surrounded by a ring of large, craggy rocks. The technician points to a small, blinking dot on the display. 
"The signal is coming from a small outpost on the planet. The inhabitants appear to be human colonists, but it's unclear who they are."
"It could be Separatists," Rex murmurs. He looks at you, and you can see the concern in his eyes. "They could've staged this attack and then fled to the planet. They could be waiting for us."
"Maybe," you reply. Your eyes return to the display, and you frown, a familiar feeling tugging at the edge of your senses. There's something about the planet that's nagging at you, and you can't quite put your finger on it. "There's only one way to find out."
"Are you suggesting we send a squad down there?" Rex asks, shaking his head. "We can't risk a confrontation. We don't have the manpower or the resources to handle another fight."
You look back at the image and nod slowly. The more you think about it, the more certain you are that the feeling is the Force telling you that there's something important on the planet. You take a deep breath and meet his gaze.
“No, I’m suggesting that I go down there," you tell him, and Rex's expression turns incredulous, his eyes widening.
"You're kidding," he says, a note of disbelief in his voice. He straightens his back and shakes his head. "No. No way. You're not going down there alone."
"Yes, I am," you argue, and Rex glares at you, his hands moving to his hips. At your side, the technician shifts uncomfortably, his eyes flicking between the two of you. "There's a chance that whoever's down there might need our help. If they do, I have a duty to assist them."
"Your duty is to stay here," Rex counters. "On the ship. Safe and sound. Away from any potential danger."
"Don't be dramatic," you scoff. "I'll take a ship, go down there, check it out, and then come right back. Simple."
"Simple," he repeats. He lets out a frustrated sigh and looks up at the ceiling, shaking his head. "Nothing is ever simple with you. You know that, right?"
"I'm aware," you reply dryly. Rex huffs and rubs the back of his neck, his gaze dropping to the floor. His expression is strained, and he's doing his best not to look at you. He knows that if he does, you'll be able to convince him, and he doesn't want that.
You wait, watching as he tries to come up with an argument, but it's obvious that he's struggling. He knows that the odds are against him, and the longer he stays silent, the more difficult it is for him to find a valid reason. Neither of you are willing to concede.
"Please," you finally say, and his eyes flick up to yours, his brow furrowing. You meet his gaze and offer him a small smile. "I have a feeling that I should go down there."
"A feeling," he repeats. He lets out a deep, weary sigh, and his shoulders slump. "Fine. But I'm going with you."
"No," you protest, but Rex shakes his head.
"Either I go with you or you don't go," he says firmly. He folds his arms across his chest, his expression hardening. "Pick."
"You're not serious," you retort, but Rex doesn't budge, and a heavy silence fills the air. The technician shifts awkwardly and clears his throat, looking back and forth between the two of you.
"I can arrange for a shuttle," he offers, and Rex gives him a curt nod.
"Thank you," he says. The technician hurries away, leaving the two of you alone. Rex looks at you, and his expression softens, his lips twitching upwards. "Don't argue."
"I'm not arguing," you retort, and he snorts, shaking his head.
"You always argue," he points out. He glances around the bridge, and his eyes settle on a group of troopers gathered near the far wall. "I'm going to see if anyone's willing to volunteer for the mission."
"We're not telling them about the distress signal," you tell him quickly.
"Why not?"
"Because I don't want anyone else to go down there," you explain, and his eyebrows rise.
"You want to keep this a secret?" he asks, his tone disbelieving.
"I'm not trying to keep it a secret," you reply, and his eyebrows rise higher. You let out an exasperated sigh and shake your head. "I'm trying to protect them. If the Separatists are down there, they're going to be heavily armed and dangerous. I'm not sending anyone else down there."
"And if they are, and it's a trap?" Rex counters.
"Then, I'll have you," you retort. You tilt your head to the side and smile. "You'll keep me safe, right?"
"Always," he says quietly, his expression growing serious. The two of you hold each other's gaze, and you can sense the conflict and worry radiating off him. After a moment, his eyes move to the side, and he rubs the back of his neck, his expression shifting into a frown. "We should get ready."
"Agreed."
The two of you turn and head for the exit, falling into step beside each other. As you step into the corridor, the alarms blare once again, and you wince, the sudden loud noise catching you off guard. The red lighting flashes and casts a crimson glow over the hall, and the computerized voice calls out over the alarms.
"Attention. Attention. This is an emergency..."
Rex shakes his head and grumbles under his breath. You give him a sympathetic look and reach out, squeezing his arm.
"Come on," you murmur. He nods and follows after you as you make your way through the ship toward the hangar where the shuttle is waiting. It's not a long trip, and you don't say anything along the way, the two of you lost in your own thoughts. The unease that has been building inside you grows with every passing second, and by the time you reach the hangar, you're certain that this is a bad idea.
"Rex," you start, but he cuts you off, grabbing your arm, pulling you to the side. A group of troopers rush past, their armor reflecting the red glow from the lights, and the two of you stand there, watching them run by. When they're gone, he lets go and sighs.
"Whatever happens down there, we stick together," he tells you. You nod, and his hand reaches out, gripping your shoulder, squeezing it gently. "Got it?"
"Got it," you reply, and he smiles and lets go, taking a step back. He turns and walks away, heading for the shuttle, and you follow after him, doing your best to keep the doubt from showing on your face.
The Twilight is already prepped and ready to go, the ramp lowered, the engines sputtering. The idea of taking Anakin's prized freighter without him knowing isn't exactly appealing, but it's not like the two of you have a choice. And besides, it's not like you'll be gone for long. You'll just take a quick look, check out the situation, and then get the hell out. Simple.
"Sir!" A voice calls out as you and Rex scale the ramp. Jesse jogs over, his helmet tucked under his arm. "What's going on? Why are you leaving?"
Rex looks over at you and tilts his head towards the entrance of the hangar, gesturing for you to go ahead. You nod and step inside, moving towards the cockpit, leaving the two of them alone. As soon as you're out of earshot, you slow down, stopping just outside the door, listening to their conversation.
"We're going on a mission," Rex answers. You hear the clink of his boots against the durasteel decking and a small thump, probably him setting down his helmet.
"What mission?" Jesse asks. You lean against the wall, watching as he frowns and looks at Rex, his expression skeptical. "General Skywalker said we should stay here and fix the ship."
"Something's come up," Rex replies, and Jesse's frown deepens. He glances towards the cockpit, and you move further away, pretending to inspect the wiring. You watch as his eyes narrow, his lips pressing into a thin line.
"Does it have anything to do with why you were late to the bridge earlier?" he asks. Rex hesitates, and Jesse's gaze moves back to him, his expression turning suspicious. "Sir, did something happen between you and the General?"
"It's none of your business, Jesse," Rex tells him sharply. You wince, and Rex glances towards the cockpit, his eyes locking onto yours, his cheeks flushing slightly. He gives you a tight smile and looks away, clearing his throat. "Look, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you. There's...there's a lot going on."
"Is she in trouble?" Jesse presses, and Rex sighs, shaking his head.
"Not yet," he answers. "But there's a chance she might be, so we're going to check it out."
"We?"
"Yeah," Rex replies. He takes a deep breath and runs a hand over his head, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "I'm going with her."
"Of course you are," Jesse snorts, and Rex looks at him, raising an eyebrow.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Sir, with all due respect, this is not the time for the two of you to be sneaking off together," Jesse says, his voice rising slightly, his tone growing agitated. Rex winces, and his eyes move to you again, and you can feel the guilt radiating off him.
"We're not sneaking off together," he tells Jesse, his tone firm. "And even if we were, that's not any of your business. Understood?"
"Yes, sir," Jesse replies. He pauses, and you watch as his eyes move back and forth, his mind working furiously. "Well, if you're going, I'm going too."
"That's not—"
"I know, I know," Jesse interrupts, holding up his hands, and he gives Rex a small grin. "The General doesn't want anyone else involved. But if she's in danger, it's my duty to protect her. If you're going, I'm going."
"It's dangerous," Rex warns.
"We're soldiers. That's our job.," Jesse replies. He shrugs and gestures towards the shuttle. "And besides, I can't leave you two alone. You might do something stupid."
"Like what?" Rex scoffs, and Jesse smirks.
"Oh, I don't know," he says, his tone casual, but there's a hint of a teasing edge to his voice. "Do I really need to spell it out?"
Rex scowls and looks away, his cheeks reddening, and Jesse lets out a small laugh, shaking his head.
"Don't worry, sir," he assures him. "Your secret is safe with me."
"There's no secret," Rex grumbles. Jesse rolls his eyes and claps him on the shoulder, giving him a sympathetic look.
"Whatever you say, sir."
The two of them start up the ramp into the shuttle, forcing you to dart into the pilot's seat. You pretend to fiddle with the controls, and a few seconds later, they enter the cockpit, both men looking at you expectantly.
"All set?" Rex asks, and you nod.
"I think so," you reply. You glance between the two of them, a frown forming on your face. "Jesse, why are you here?"
"He's coming with us," Rex says, and you can feel your frown deepen.
"I said that no one else was coming with us," you argue. Jesse shrugs and sets his helmet on the console.
"With all due respect, General, I'm coming anyway," he tells you. His tone is polite, but the stubborn set of his jaw and the determined look in his eye make it clear that he won't be easily swayed. "You might need backup."
"We'll be fine," you snap, and Rex sighs.
"Let him come," he says quietly. His eyes lock onto yours, and when you see the pleading look in them, you give him a frustrated huff.
"Fine," you mutter.
"Good," Jesse grins, and you roll your eyes.
"Whatever," you grumble, and you start flipping switches, the engines roaring to life, the controls lighting up. The three of you strap yourselves in, and you grab the controls, guiding the ship out of the hangar and into space. As soon as you're clear, you tap the coordinates for the planet, and the autopilot takes over, guiding the ship towards its destination. 
You turn to Jesse, who's busy checking his equipment, and point at the viewport. "This is a reconnaissance mission. We're going to take a look, check out the situation, and then get the hell out. Got it?"
"Got it," Jesse agrees. You glance at Rex, who gives you a small nod, and the three of you settle in, watching the stars streak past the viewport. After a few minutes, the planet comes into view, the gray mass looming in front of you. You frown and peer out at it, watching the fog clouds roil and swirl. Something about the planet gives you a strange, uneasy feeling, and you can't shake the feeling that this is a bad idea.
"General," Rex says softly. You look over at him, and he raises an eyebrow. "Everything okay?"
"I'm fine," you reply, and his eyes narrow. He doesn't believe you, but you don't want to worry him. Or Jesse. Or yourself, for that matter. You push the feeling aside and gesture towards the planet. "Let's do this."
The shuttle descends, the planet growing larger as it approaches. You lean forward and watch as the fog begins to part, revealing the surface. As you get closer, the details become clearer, and the gray landscape stretches as far as the eye can see. There's nothing green or brown or blue, just the same endless gray expanse. The only landmark is a small cluster of structures near the edge of the horizon.
You frown and press the controls, the shuttle changing course, angling towards the buildings. You scan the area and let out a soft sigh. There's no sign of life anywhere.
As the shuttle continues its descent, the fog closes in, and the ground becomes obscured. The buildings loom ahead, and you adjust the course, flying over the structures, circling around. The shuttle's scanners sweep the area, searching for any signs of life, but there's nothing. No movement. No heat signatures. No signs of any living creature.
"It's deserted," Rex says quietly. He glances at you, and his expression hardens. "Are we sure this is the right place?"
"Yeah," you reply. You look out the viewport, watching as the structures pass by beneath the shuttle, and the uneasiness inside you grows. The Force is telling you that there's something important on the surface, and the feeling is growing stronger with every second. "We should land and check it out."
"That's not a good idea," Jesse protests. He leans forward and points towards the edge of the fog. "We can see the outpost from here. We can scan it and get a better look without putting ourselves at risk."
"There's something here," you tell him, and Rex gives you a sharp look. You shake your head, ignoring his concern, and focus on Jesse, doing your best to keep the doubt from showing on your face. "We need to find out what it is."
"General—"
"Jesse," Rex interrupts, and the other man sighs. He rubs the back of his neck, a frustrated look on his face, and he glances between the two of you.
"Alright, alright," he finally relents. He unbuckles his harness and stands, grabbing his helmet, pulling it over his head. "I'll do a quick sweep, and then we can head back. Sound good?"
"Perfect," you smile, and Jesse grunts, walking past the two of you, heading towards the ramp. You wait until he's out of earshot before looking over at Rex, and the moment your eyes meet, the concern radiating from him is overwhelming.
"Please, tell me that you're not feeling the same thing I'm feeling," he says quietly, and the desperation in his voice sends a pang through your heart. You hesitate, and he sighs, running a hand over his face. "Great."
"Rex..."
"What's the point of the Force if it can't warn you about these things?" he mutters, shaking his head. He closes his eyes, his jaw clenching, and his hands grip the harness tightly.
"It is warning me," you tell him, and his eyes fly open, meeting yours, his expression full of disbelief. "I can feel it. The Force is trying to tell me something. I just...I don't know what it is. I just know that I need to go down there."
You unbuckle your harness and stand, and Rex follows suit, his movements stiff and robotic. He pulls on his helmet and checks his blasters while you pull the rebreather over your nose and mouth. You give him a reassuring smile and rest your hand on his arm, giving it a light squeeze.
"I'm going to be fine," you assure him, and he shakes his head.
"No, you're not," he retorts. He looks at you, and you can sense his fear and frustration and anger. "Nothing ever goes right when we're together. Every time. Every damn time."
"Hey," you say sharply, and he huffs. "That's not true."
"It is," he mutters. His head drops, and his shoulders slump, the tension and anger leaving him. He lets out a tired sigh and turns towards the open hatch. "I don't want anything to happen to you."
"It won't," you promise, and he scoffs, his brow furrowing. He opens his mouth, but before he can say anything, Jesse returns, and the two of you turn towards him. He gives the two of you a quick look and holds up a finger.
"Okay, I did a quick sweep, and it looks like the place is empty," he reports. He taps the side of his helmet and shrugs. "Nothing on the thermal either. If anyone's down there, they're well hidden."
"We're still going," you say, and Jesse lets out an exasperated groan.
"I knew you were going to say that," he complains. He looks at Rex, and you can tell that the captain is rolling his eyes behind his visor. "Is she always like this?"
"Yes," Rex replies dryly. 
He tilts his head towards the hatch, and Jesse lets out a resigned sigh, leading the way down the ramp and onto the ground. You follow after him, stepping onto the gray surface, your boots sinking into the wet dirt. Rex is right behind you, and the three of you begin making your way towards the outpost.
The fog is thick, and it's difficult to see more than a few feet in any direction. You pull the hood of your robe up, the fabric covering your head and the top half of your face. The ground is uneven and soft, and the air dank and cold. 
A few steps into the fog, the visibility drops to almost nothing, and you find yourself relying on the Force to guide you. It's disorienting, and after a while, you're not entirely sure where you're going. Jesse's at the front of the group, and Rex is at your side, his blasters at the ready. Every few steps, the three of you stop and listen, scanning the area for any signs of life.
There's nothing.
The only sound is the muffled crunch of the ground beneath your boots and the soft rustling of the fog. It's unsettling, and you find yourself moving closer to Rex, his presence calming your nerves.
You can see his helmet tilt toward you, and you can sense his unease. He doesn't want you out here. He wants to turn around and go back to the ship. And if it were up to him, that's exactly what he would do.
But it's not.
You're the one in charge.
So, the three of you continue walking, the outpost growing closer and closer, the structure looming ahead of you. The gray stone walls are covered in moss and vines, and the wooden gate is open, hanging from its hinges. The interior of the compound is obscured by the fog, and you pause, your senses on high alert.
There's no sound. No movement. No signs of life.
"Jesse," you murmur, and he glances back at you. "You and Rex search the perimeter. I'll check inside."
"I don't think—"
"Just do it," you order, cutting him off, and he huffs, shaking his head.
"You heard the General," Rex says, and Jesse gives him a curt nod. "Let's go."
The two of them turn away and move along the edge of the wall, disappearing into the fog. You watch as they fade into the grayness, and then you take a deep breath, drawing your lightsaber and activating it. The blade ignites with a hum, the yellow glow illuminating the fog, and you step towards the open gate.
As you pass through the entrance, a chill runs down your spine. There's a feeling in the air, a dark energy surrounding the area. It's familiar, but you can't quite place it. It's a feeling that you've experienced before, but not here. Not in this place.
You pause, listening, searching for any signs of life, and when the silence continues, you step forward, heading towards the center of the compound. There are a handful of structures, most of which are dilapidated and falling apart. A few of them are nothing more than piles of rubble, the walls crumbling, the roof caving in. 
You've only taken a few steps when something out of the corner of your eye shifts. A dark shape moving in the distance. Your eyes dart towards the source, and you watch as a shadowy figure emerges from the fog, its movements slow and deliberate.
"Jesse? Rex?" you call out, and the figure stops. You take a cautious step towards it, and it vanishes.
"General!"
You turn towards the sound of Rex's voice, and the figure appears again. It's standing behind you, and when you look back, it's gone.
"Rex!" you shout, and you hear him calling out for you, his voice getting closer. The figure appears again, further away. It's tall and humanoid, its limbs long and spindly. It's facing away from you, and when you try to follow, it vanishes once more.
You hear a faint noise coming from the direction the figure disappeared. A soft tapping sound. It's faint and distant, but it's there. You turn towards the source, and the figure appears again. You make out the shape of a cape, a hood, and your hand tightens on your lightsaber.
"Hey!" you call out, and the figure spins around, the fog swirling, obscuring its features. The tapping sound continues, and the figure takes a step towards you. "Who are you? What do you want?"
You take a cautious step forward, and the figure vanishes, the tapping fading away. You wait for a moment, listening, and then the tapping returns, the sound growing louder. It's coming from somewhere close by, and when you try to follow the noise, the figure reappears. You spin towards it, and as soon as you do, the noise stops.
"This is ridiculous," you growl, and you take a step towards the figure, but before you can reach it, it disappears. The tapping returns, the noise even louder, the sound echoing off the walls of the buildings. It's close.
You move quickly, sprinting after it, your heart pounding. You can hear Rex and Jesse calling out for you, but you ignore them. The fog swirls and twists, and you follow the sound, the tapping growing louder and louder. It's coming from inside one of the buildings. You skid to a stop and look up. The building is smaller than the others, and the doorway is barely big enough for you to squeeze through.
"Come on," you murmur, and you push the door open, slipping inside. The tapping stops, and the room is completely silent. You look around, searching for any sign of the figure, and when you don't see anything, you let out a frustrated huff. "I know you're here. You wanted help. Well, I'm here. So, let's talk."
The silence stretches on, and then the sound returns, the tapping louder and faster than before. It's coming from below. From beneath the floor. You look down and realize that the floor isn't made of stone or wood. It's metal. It's a hatch.
You kneel and press your ear to the surface, the tapping getting louder, the noise echoing off the metal. There's a muffled thumping mixed in with the tapping. It's a steady rhythm. Like a heartbeat.
You grab the handle and yank, the hatch sliding open, revealing a ladder leading down into a dark pit.
"Oh, for Force's sake," you mutter.
"General! Where are you?"
"Rex!" you call out, and the noise stops, the silence deafening. "I'm over here."
You look down the ladder, and a few seconds later, Rex and Jesse emerge from the fog. They jog towards you, their blasters drawn, and when they get close enough, they slow down.
"What are you doing?" Rex asks. He looks down at the hatch and back to you, holstering his blasters and placing his hands on his hips. "You weren't thinking of going down there alone, were you?"
"...Maybe," you admit, and Rex's helmet tilts skyward.
"Of course, you were," he grumbles. He glances at Jesse, and the other man shrugs.
"She's got a death wish, sir," Jesse tells him. Rex lets out a resigned sigh, and Jesse leans closer, giving you a disapproving look. "Don't do anything stupid."
"When have I ever done anything stupid?" you ask. Rex and Jesse both snort, and you frown, crossing your arms over your chest. "I don't think I like your attitude."
"We don't like your attitude," Rex retorts. He crouches and peers down the hole, and when he looks up, the annoyance in his voice is clear. "Well, we're not doing this without a plan. Or at least without some kind of idea about what's down there."
"It's some kind of tapping," you reply, and he gestures for you to elaborate. You huff and shrug. "There's a rhythm to it. And I keep seeing a figure in the fog. It's humanoid."
"A figure?" Jesse repeats, and he and Rex exchange a look. You raise an eyebrow and tilt your head to the side, waiting for one of them to speak. "Are you sure you didn't hit your head earlier?"
You scowl, your hands curling into fists, and you're about to tell him exactly what you think of his comment when Rex steps between the two of you. He holds up his hands and shakes his head.
"That's not helping," he says firmly. Jesse grumbles under his breath, and Rex glances over his shoulder at you. "What do you want to do?"
"I'm going down there," you tell him. You step towards the ladder and start climbing, and when Rex starts to protest, you hold up a finger, silencing him. "You can either come with me or not. Either way, I'm doing this."
Rex hesitates, and when he looks at Jesse, the other man just shrugs. He lets out an exasperated sigh and nods.
"Fine," he mutters. He points at Jesse. "Stay up here. If we're not back in thirty minutes, call for backup."
"Copy that," Jesse replies, and Rex climbs onto the ladder, following after you.
You descend into the darkness, the sound of the tapping getting louder and louder. When you reach the bottom, you step off the ladder, and Rex lands beside you. His helmet scans the room, and he reaches out, his fingers closing around your wrist. He pulls you behind him, his body shielding yours.
"Be careful," he whispers.
"Always am," you murmur, and his helmet swivels to look at you. You can feel his skepticism and amusement radiating from him, and he shakes his head, turning back to the darkness.
"Sure, you are," he chuckles. "I've seen the scars."
"That was one time," you protest, and he snorts, taking a step forward.
"No, it wasn't," he retorts.
"I thought you liked how reckless I am," you tease, and his helmet tilts, a low, rumbling growl escaping from the speakers. You bite your lip to keep from laughing, and when he turns his head, you give him a sweet smile. "You said it. Not me."
"That's not what I said," he mutters.
"Yes, it is," you laugh, and his hand tightens on your wrist, pulling you close. You stumble forward, bumping into him, and he wraps an arm around your waist, holding you against him.
"Be. Careful," he growls, his voice low and dangerous, and the sudden change in his tone sends a shiver down your spine. You look up at him and lick your lips, your mouth suddenly dry. "Promise me."
"I will," you whisper. The intensity of his stare is overwhelming, and you find yourself frozen, your breath catching in your throat. "I promise."
"Good," he murmurs, his voice softening. He releases his grip on your waist, his hand sliding up your back and resting between your shoulders, gently nudging you forward. "Come on."
The two of you walk side by side through the darkness, the sound of the tapping growing louder with every step. As the two of you move further into the tunnel, the darkness begins to give way, the walls illuminated by dim red lights. You glance at Rex, and he gives you a quick nod, gesturing for you to keep moving.
"It's an escape tunnel," he mutters. He moves closer to the wall and examines the lights, his helmet tilting towards the ground. "Probably goes all the way to the outpost."
"Why would they need an escape tunnel?"
"Maybe they were hiding from something," Rex replies. He stands and glances around the room. "Or someone."
The two of you continue walking, the tapping growing louder, the tunnel narrowing. You reach a junction, and the sound is coming from the left, the path sloping downward. Rex hesitates, and you nudge his arm, pushing him forward. He lets out a resigned sigh and follows after you.
As the two of you walk down the slope, the tapping becomes deafening, the sound bouncing off the walls. It's coming from a closed door up ahead. Rex draws his blaster, and you ignite your lightsaber, the yellow blade illuminating the area. The two of you reach the door and pause, listening. There's no movement, no sounds other than the tapping.
"You ready?" Rex asks, and you nod. He raises his blaster and places his hand on the door handle. "On three."
He counts down, and then the door swings open, revealing a small, dimly lit room. It's empty, and the only furniture is a table and chair. There's a tarp draped over the wall behind it, and the tapping is coming from beneath.
You glance at Rex, and he takes a cautious step inside. When nothing happens, he holsters his blaster and moves towards the tarp.
"What are you doing?" you ask, and he waves a dismissive hand.
"Just stay there," he orders.
You frown, your eyes narrowing. "Don't tell me what to do."
Rex sighs and shakes his head, grabbing the tarp and pulling it off the wall, revealing a series of monitors and control panels. There's a microphone on the table, and the source of the tapping is revealed. It's a small, cylindrical device attached to the microphone, and when Rex picks it up, the tapping stops.
He sets the device on the table and looks at the monitors, his helmet tilting to the side. You move towards him, and he points to the screens, showing you the messages and audio files.
"Someone was trying to lure people here," he murmurs. He flips through a few more files and lets out a disgusted huff. "Whoever it was must have figured that a fake distress call would bring us running."
"So, this is a trap?"
"Looks like it," Rex replies. He looks down at the device and tilts his head to the side. "And, judging by the fact that there's no sign of whoever put this here, I'm guessing that they got away. Guess we scared them off."
"Yeah," you mutter, and he turns to face you, his helmet lifting, his visor scanning your face.
"I know that tone," he says softly. You raise an eyebrow, and he folds his arms over his chest. "What is it?"
"I just..." you begin, and you trail off, letting out a frustrated sigh. You shake your head and lean against the table, rubbing your forehead. "This whole thing feels...off."
"Off?"
"It doesn't make sense," you tell him. "Why would anyone set up a fake distress signal and then leave? It's not like they could've known that we would come. Or even if we would. For all they knew, no one would hear their signal. Why waste the time and energy putting this all together?"
"Maybe they panicked," Rex suggests. "Maybe they didn't think things through."
"Maybe," you reply. You push away from the table and pace around the room, frowning. "But something about this feels...familiar. Like I've seen it before."
"Like what?"
"I don't know," you mutter. You stop and look at him, shaking your head. "It's just a feeling. A hunch. And I can't explain it."
"Okay," Rex says slowly, his voice hesitant. He pauses, and then he walks over to the tarp and grabs it, throwing it back over the wall, covering the monitors. "We'll talk to General Skywalker. See what he thinks. Maybe he can make sense of all this."
"Yeah," you agree. You walk past him, and he follows, the two of you heading back towards the ladder. The tapping starts up again, the sound echoing off the walls. Rex's hand reaches out, resting on the small of your back, his fingers pressing against the fabric of your robe. You look over at him, and his helmet tips toward the source, his voice low and soothing.
"Ignore it," he murmurs, and the two of you start walking, the sound fading away. "It's just a recording."
"I know," you whisper. You take a deep breath and let it out slowly, and as the two of you walk, his hand moves lower, his fingers brushing over your hip. The gesture is subtle, but it's enough to make your pulse race, a shiver running down your spine.
Your eyes flick to him, and Rex pulls away, clearing his throat.
"Sorry," he mutters. His voice is rough and strained, and he glances away, his hand running over the back of his neck. "Didn't mean to, uh...yeah."
You watch as he hurries towards the ladder, and you follow after him, biting back a grin. His flustered state is adorable, and the sight of him embarrassed and fidgety makes your heart melt. For a man who was inches away from kissing you only a few hours ago he's certainly acting shy.
"Don't worry about it," you call out, and Rex lets out a soft snort. He glances over his shoulder, his helmet tilting to the side, and you shrug. "I don't mind."
He looks at you for a long moment, and then he climbs onto the ladder and begins to ascend. You watch him go, a small smile on your face, before you shake your head.
"Get it together," you whisper to yourself. There are more important things to focus on than Rex and his adorable antics. Like finding out who was behind the distress signal.
With a determined huff, your hand grabs for the first rung of the ladder, but something stops you. You pause and listen, your senses heightening. There's something wrong. The tapping has stopped.
And then you see it.
The shadow.
It appears at the edge of your vision, the dark shape moving along the wall. You spin around, and it vanishes, the shadows stretching, enveloping the space. The red lights flicker, and when they do, you can see it.
It's humanoid. Tall. Spindly. Dressed in black. A hood covers its face, and a cape billows out behind it. The same figure that's been following you. The same one that attacked you ten years ago, the same one that you saw on the footage the night Yaddle died.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me," you growl.
A low, raspy laugh fills the air, and the figure turns and walks away, disappearing into the darkness. You run after it, sprinting down the tunnel, watching as Dooku's retreating form vanishes into the blackness.
You reach the junction, this time taking the path to the right. You follow after him, the tunnel sloping upward until you reach another door. You draw your lightsaber and open it, the bright glow of the yellow blade illuminating the room.
Dooku is standing in the center of the space, his back to you, his hands clasped behind his back. He's wearing a long black cloak and a hood, and the light from your saber casts his shadow across the walls, the edges of his image elongated and distorted.
"You're pretty spry for an old man," you tell him, and his shoulders twitch, a low chuckle escaping his lips. He turns to face you, and when his hood falls, his features are illuminated.
"Still the same reckless girl," Dooku says, and he tilts his head to the side, his voice filled with amusement. "Always so eager to prove yourself."
"I don't have anything to prove to you," you retort, and his eyes narrow. His lips curl into a sneer, and his head lifts, his expression becoming haughty and condescending.
"Don't you?"
"No," you snap. You take a step towards him, and his smirk fades, his eyes narrowing. "But I'm curious. What are you doing here? Don't you have an entire army to run?"
"I could ask you the same question," Dooku replies. He looks at you and chuckles, shaking his head. "But I think we both know the answer. You came here because you felt something. A connection to me. To the Force."
"That's not true," you protest, but he ignores you.
"You wanted answers," he continues, his voice soft, his tone almost gentle. "Answers that no one else can provide. Answers that you desperately need."
"I don't want anything from you," you growl, pulling your shoto from your belt and igniting it. The twin blades flare to life, their glow reflecting off his skin. "Just stay still, and maybe this will hurt less."
Dooku takes a step towards you, and your stance shifts, your body moving into a defensive position. He chuckles and holds up his hands, stopping a few feet from you.
"Really, dear girl, you should learn some respect for your betters," he tells you, and you let out a frustrated sigh.
"I'm done playing games," you snap, and before he can react, you attack. 
You lunge towards him, swinging your lightsabers, and his blade ignites, blocking the blows. You press the attack, pushing him back, and he counters, the two of you trading strikes and parries. He's skilled, his movements graceful and elegant, and the longer the fight continues, the more he seems to be enjoying himself. It's as if your actions are fueling his pleasure.
"You've gotten better," Dooku tells you. "I'll give you that."
"Yeah, well, last time, you didn't fight fair," you retort, and he smirks.
"Neither did you," he counters. His lightsaber flicks, the blade moving in a blur, and you barely block the strike, the tip of his weapon grazing your shoulder. The fabric of your robe tears, and you hiss, the burning sensation making your blood boil.
"Bastard," you snarl, and the two of you lock blades, the light from the glowing swords reflecting off the walls, casting shadows across the room.
"Temper, temper," he tuts. He presses his weight into the hilt of his lightsaber, and the heat from the blades grows hotter, the tips of the hilts burning against your palms. "It's unbecoming."
"I'm not interested in a lesson in decorum from a murderer."
You shove him back and swing, forcing him to jump away, and you chase after him, unleashing a series of strikes and thrusts. The two of you dance around the room, the light from the sabers reflecting off the walls, and the battle quickly devolves into a duel, both of you matching the other's attacks, neither of you gaining an advantage.
As the minutes pass, your frustration grows, and the anger and hatred inside you builds. You lash out, and Dooku dodges, the tip of your blade cutting through his cloak, the fabric fluttering to the ground. It's a small victory, but it's enough to spur you on.
"That was expensive, you know," he drawls.
"Good," you snarl.
The two of you continue your dance, and as the fight progresses, his attacks become more vicious. He pushes you harder, his strikes growing quicker and more precise, and your defenses crumble, leaving you open. 
The tip of his blade slices through the sleeve of your robe, and the skin beneath burns, forcing you into dropping your shoto. You grit your teeth and parry, deflecting the next strike, and when the opportunity presents itself, you kick him in the stomach, sending him stumbling backwards.
"Is that all you've got?" he taunts.
"Stop talking and fight," you snap. You launch yourself at him, slamming into him and sending the two of you tumbling to the floor. You land on top of him, and you grab his collar, dragging him to his feet, slamming him into the wall. "Tell me why you're here."
"I have my reasons," he replies. His voice is calm and composed, his expression blank, unfeeling. You grip his collar tighter, and he lets out a soft chuckle. "You want to kill me, don't you? Go ahead. Try."
Your hand tightens, and you pull him away from the wall and throw him back, sending him flying into the opposite wall. He crumples to the ground, and you march towards him, your lightsaber raised.
"Stop. Talking," you growl. You level the blade at his throat, and when your eyes meet, his expression changes. A cold, cruel smile spreads across his face, and his gaze becomes sharp, calculating.
"I knew it," he murmurs, and your grip on the hilt of your lightsaber wavers, a wave of unease washing over you.
"What are you talking about?"
"You've changed," he tells you. His eyes narrow, and he leans closer, his breath tickling your cheek. "You are not the same Padawan I knew."
"I've learned a few things since then," you mutter.
"Oh, yes," Dooku chuckles. He tilts his head to the side, and his eyes move over your face, his voice dropping to a murmur. "I can see that."
The hairs on the back of your neck stand up, and a shiver runs down your spine. He's staring at you like he's seeing you for the first time. His gaze is piercing, his expression calculating, and you can't help but wonder what he's looking for. Whatever it is, he seems pleased.
"Why did you kill her?" you demand. Better to keep him talking. The longer he's distracted, the more likely it is that the others will arrive and help you deal with him. "What did she ever do to you?"
"It's not about what she did," Dooku replies. His voice is soft, and his eyes flick to your lightsaber. "It's about what she could have done. The potential that she represented."
"What are you talking about?"
"There's no need to be coy," he tells you. His eyes return to your face, and his gaze is almost hungry, his lips curling into a smirk. "I know you've figured it out."
"She was in your way," you say. His expression changes, his smirk fading, and his gaze hardens. "She knew too much. She knew you were planning on betraying the Republic."
"Close," he murmurs. His head tips to the side, and his gaze sweeps over you, a look of admiration in his eyes. "But not quite. You've come so far, but there's still so much you don't understand."
"Then enlighten me," you snap, and his brow furrows, a confused frown forming on his face. "Tell me why. Why did you kill her?"
Dooku’s eyes narrow, and his gaze becomes distant, as if he's seeing something far beyond the room. He doesn't seem to be aware of the fact that he's about to die. As if he's reliving some memory, some experience that is only known to him. For a split-second, he looks almost vulnerable. And, in that instant, you feel something.
He's afraid.
And whatever he's afraid of, it has nothing to do with you.
"It's not just about her," Dooku says, his voice a low murmur. You frown and lean closer, your lightsaber still pointed at his throat, and when his eyes refocus, they lock onto yours. "Do you know why I left the Order, young one?"
"Because you're a power-hungry monster?" you suggest, and he shakes his head.
"I left because they refused to see the truth," he replies. The intensity in his gaze is unnerving, and you swallow, doing your best to keep the tremble from your hand. “I left because the Jedi are flawed."
You stare at him, unsure how to respond. Your anger and hatred are still there, but there's something else, too. He’s not saying anything you don’t already know. The Jedi are flawed. They are imperfect. And yet, somehow, you know that what he's saying isn't coming from a place of malice or spite. He's speaking the truth. Or, at least, what he believes to be the truth. And, for some reason, that scares you.
"You're lying," you tell him, and he chuckles, shaking his head.
"The Council is weak. The Order is blind. They've lost sight of what it means to be a Jedi," he continues. He shifts, the tip of your blade brushing against his skin, but he doesn't react. "They've become nothing more than a band of soldiers, fighting for a Republic that's dying."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying that the Order is corrupt. That the Republic is broken.” Dooku leans forward, and you can't help but notice how close his throat is to your lightsaber. All it would take is a twitch, and his head would roll. You could end it. Right now. The thought is tempting, but something holds you back. You want answers. "The war is pointless. And, no matter what happens, we will lose. We are fighting a losing battle. The Republic is finished. 
"Your master knew this. Yaddle was one of the few who believed in the true purpose of the Jedi Order. One of the few who understood the truth."
"That's not—"
"She was a good person," he interrupts. The warmth in his expression takes you by surprise, and a pang of guilt hits you, making your chest ache. He looks at you, his brow furrowing. "Don't blame yourself. What happened was necessary."
"Necessary?"
"She was wise and strong, and she saw things that others could not," he explains. His tone is soft and reverent, his gaze distant, almost wistful. "And she cared for you very much."
Your heart skips a beat, and a lump forms in your throat, a rush of emotions flooding your system. You bite the inside of your cheek and clench your jaw, trying to ignore the pain and the fear and the sadness, but it's too much. The pressure in your chest is overwhelming, and you can feel the tears stinging your eyes.
"What does that have to do with anything?" you ask, your voice breaking. You can't bring yourself to look at him, and your vision blurs, tears filling your eyes.
"She would want you to survive," Dooku says, his voice gentle, his gaze locked onto yours. "No matter what."
The pressure in your chest grows, and a tear escapes, rolling down your cheek. You try to wipe it away, but it's too late. He sees it. And, somehow, his expression softens even further, a look of understanding in his eyes.
"You and I have more in common than you think," he murmurs. You blink, your eyes widening, and he gives you a knowing smile. "We both understand the truth. We both know what it means to sacrifice. We've both witnessed the corruption and hypocrisy of those we once trusted. And we've both experienced the pain of betrayal."
"The Council didn't betray me," you say, and his brow furrows, his head tipping to the side.
"Did they not?"
"No," you reply, the conviction in your voice wavering. "They didn't."
"I think we both know that's not true," he counters. "They abandoned you. They let you suffer and struggle alone, and when you needed their help, they turned their backs on you. Just as they did with Yaddle."
"The Council had their reasons," you insist. "They did what they thought was best."
"For themselves," Dooku retorts. His eyes narrow, and a look of disdain crosses his face, his jaw clenching. "Not for you."
"You're wrong," you tell him, but even as the words leave your lips, a part of you knows that he's right. The Council didn't believe you. They didn't believe in you. They let you flounder, and they never did a thing to help. Even Obi-Wan had abandoned you, and while he'd tried to apologize, it hadn't changed anything.
"You know it's true," he says, his voice barely a whisper. He stares at you, and you stare back, your mind racing. "You feel it. Deep down, you know I'm right."
"I'm a Jedi. I can't turn my back on them," you say. "Not when there are innocent people suffering."
"And yet, you're here, chasing after a ghost, searching for a reason to hate the ones who hurt you," Dooku replies. You open your mouth to protest, but he raises a hand, silencing you. "I am not judging you. I understand. You have been betrayed, and you are in pain. I can sense it. It radiates from you, filling the air."
"You have no idea what I'm going through," you mutter.
"I can assure you, dear girl, I do," he tells you, and his eyes move over your face, studying you, his gaze curious and contemplative. "You remind me of myself. We are alike, you and I. We both seek justice and answers. We both question the world around us, and we both understand the sacrifices that must be made in order to achieve peace."
"I'm not like you," you say. You shake your head, and a bitter laugh escapes your lips, your heart pounding in your chest. "I'm nothing like you."
"Aren't you?"
"I'm not a murderer."
"You've killed before," Dooku counters. He stares at you, his expression unreadable. "And, if given the chance, you would do it again."
Your grip on your lightsaber falters, and the blade lowers, the tip scraping against the stone floor. Your eyes meet his, and the weight of his words settles over you, a feeling of unease and dread filling the pit of your stomach.
"I don't know what you're talking about," you tell him, but the lie is obvious. You can hear it in your voice, feel it in the way your heart races, and Dooku smiles, a hint of satisfaction creeping into his expression.
"You may not have the blood on your hands, but it's there," he murmurs. He stands and steps towards you, his hand resting on your shoulder, his touch gentle, almost comforting. "There are no more lies between us. We know the truth. We see what the Order has become, what the Republic has become. We see their flaws and their faults, and we know what must be done. The question is, are you willing to do what needs to be done?"
"No," you reply, shaking your head, but he squeezes your shoulder, his grip tightening.
"You can't hide from the truth," he says. His voice is soft, his tone soothing. "You can't ignore it. The Force brought you here, to me, because we are kindred spirits. We are alike. We understand each other."
"Stop saying that," you snap, and his fingers dig into your shoulder, his eyes boring into yours.
"You have been betrayed," he says, his voice cold and clinical, his eyes filled with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat. "You are alone. And you are angry. The Order has taken everything from you, and now, they are taking your life. They have failed you, and they will continue to fail you. They will not stop until you are dead."
"I'm not going to let you manipulate me," you tell him. You push his hand away and step back, your lightsaber raised, and he lets out a resigned sigh, his gaze never leaving yours. "You murdered Yaddle, and you tried to kill me. That's all there is to it. I'm going to kill you."
Dooku doesn't react. He just stares at you, his gaze intense and steady. A part of you expects him to try and reason with you, but he doesn't. He doesn't argue or try to change your mind. He just looks at you, his eyes moving over your face, studying you.
"Maybe," he allows. He straightens his back and squares his shoulders. "But not today."
With a flourish of his cape, he steps towards you, his lightsaber igniting with a hiss. The crimson blade hums as it slices through the air, and you react, your own blade coming up to block his attack.
The two of you dance around each other, trading strikes and parries. The battle is brutal and fierce, both of you giving it your all.
It's only after a few minutes that you realize that Dooku isn't even trying. He's playing with you, using his skill and experience to taunt and provoke you. And, while his attacks are strong, they are easily blocked or deflected.
He's not taking this seriously.
He's toying with you.
He wants to see what you're capable of.
As if he's testing you.
"You're holding back," you accuse. He slashes at your chest, and you step to the side, avoiding the blow. You lunge, your blade arcing towards his head, and he blocks, the humming blades locking together, the light from their tips illuminating his face. "I can feel it."
"Of course, I am," Dooku replies. He spins, and the two of you lock blades, his eyes locking onto yours. "I have no wish to hurt you."
"You're a fucking liar," you snarl, and he pushes you away, sending you stumbling backwards.
"On the contrary, I am the most honest man you will ever meet," he says, and the arrogance in his tone makes you bristle.
You swing at him, and he steps back, dodging the blow. His footwork is perfect, his movements fluid and graceful, and the longer the fight goes on, the more confident and relaxed he becomes.
It's like he's in a different world.
He's not fighting you.
He's playing a game.
"I should've known that this would end in tears," he sighs. He lunges, his lightsaber sweeping towards your head, and you duck, the tip of his blade slicing through the air above you. "You aren't ready."
"Shut up," you snap. You step forward and swing, but he's faster than you, his body twisting out of the way, his cape billowing behind him. The fabric brushes against your cheek, and he kicks, his boot connecting with your hip.
The force of the blow sends you stumbling, and you nearly fall, your balance shifting. You grit your teeth and brace yourself, your lightsaber moving into a defensive position.
"You're still angry," he tells you, and he shakes his head, his eyes narrowing. "I can sense it."
"Of course, I'm angry," you retort. You slash at him, and he blocks, his blade coming up to deflect your strike. "You tried to kill me. You murdered Yaddle."
"That's not what I meant," he replies, and before you can react, he lunges, his blade coming down. You scramble, barely managing to hold onto your saber and bring it up in time to block his next strike.
"What are you talking about?"
"You're not angry at me," he says, and you freeze, his words sinking in. Your eyes widen as he tilts his head to the side, his gaze moving over your face. "You're angry at yourself."
"Shut up," you growl, but the anger in your voice is fading, a sense of dread filling the pit of your stomach.
"You're still angry that she died," he continues, and you can't bring yourself to speak, a lump forming in your throat. "You're angry that she left you. You're angry that she never came back."
"Stop," you whisper, but he ignores you, his gaze boring into yours.
"You're angry that the Order betrayed you. That they left you alone," he says, his tone sympathetic, almost apologetic. "You're angry that the Jedi refused to believe you. That they turned their backs on you. And now, they expect you to fight for them."
"They didn't abandon me," you insist, but even as the words leave your lips, the image of Obi-Wan's retreating form flashes in your mind, his last words echoing in your ears.
"Didn't they?"
"They just...didn't listen," you say. You blink, a tear escaping, rolling down your cheek. "They didn't...understand."
"Because you wouldn't tell them the truth," he replies.
His voice is soft, gentle. It's soothing, and for a split-second, it feels like he cares. It feels like he understands. And a part of you wants to believe him. A part of you wants to trust him. But another part of you knows that he's manipulating you, trying to trick you.
And it's working.
Dooku takes another step forward, his shadow stretching across the floor, the light from your blades flickering in the dark.
"You were afraid. Of the power you wielded. Of the truth. Of yourself."
He's closer now, and you can't bring yourself to move. To resist. To do anything but stand there, staring at him.
"I'm sorry," he murmurs, his voice barely audible. "For what I did to her. For what I did to you."
You open your mouth, but no sound comes out. You can't breathe. Your chest is tight, and your lungs are burning, and you can't bring yourself to move.
"You can't run from this," he says. His eyes meet yours, and he shakes his head, a sad smile forming on his lips. "No matter how hard you try. No matter where you go. But if you let me, I can help you."
"Help me?"
"You're not a Jedi. Not anymore," he tells you. He moves closer, and you take a step back, your body acting on instinct, trying to get away from him. But he follows, his steps measured and slow. "Not after what happened."
"You did this," you whisper, and he lets out a soft chuckle, his expression changing, a look of admiration and pride on his face. His eyes flicker to the scars stretching across your hands, and a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.
"No," he says. "I didn't. You did."
He's only a few feet away now, and the shadows stretch, wrapping around him, engulfing him. The air grows cold, and the light from the blades begins to fade, and the darkness grows, consuming everything.
"We can't control our power. Our emotions. They control us," he tells you. "You know that better than anyone."
You close your eyes, and for a split-second, it feels like the darkness is wrapping around you, cocooning you. It's warm and safe and familiar. You want to stay here, to let go and just drift away, but a small part of you is screaming. A small part of you knows that something isn't right.
Something pulls at your senses, tugging at the edges of your awareness. It's like a whisper, a soft murmur in the back of your mind. A feeling. An emotion. Fear. Worry.
And it's growing.
"They took everything from you," Dooku says, and your eyes snap open, your vision focusing on his face. He looks different now, older, his skin withered and wrinkled, his hair thin and gray. The warmth in his eyes is fading, replaced by a look of disdain and disgust. "But you can take it back."
He's holding out his hand, his fingers splayed, his palm facing you. It's an invitation. A temptation. And you know what it means. If you accept his offer, everything will change.
You look at his hand, and your gaze flickers to his face, to his eyes. They're darker now, colder. They're not the same. And you know that whatever he's offering isn't real. You're not sure if it ever was.
You stare at his hand, and your mind races, a million thoughts flashing through your mind. But, as the seconds pass, one thought becomes clear, one word echoing in your mind.
"No."
"Very well," he sighs. He steps towards you, his voice calm and level. "If that is your decision, then I have no choice but to—"
You reach out, calling your shoto, and it flies into your open palm, igniting with a loud snap-hiss. Dooku's eyes widen, and his lightsaber springs to life, the red blade humming, the light from the weapon casting shadows across his face.
"Don't," he warns, but it's too late.
You launch yourself at him, and his lightsaber comes up, blocking your blow. The two of you trade strikes and parries, the sounds of the clashing blades echoing off the walls. You spring up, swinging your blade, and he blocks the attack, the red and yellow blades hissing and crackling as they grind against each other.
"You're making a mistake," he tells you.
"I'm done listening to you," you retort.
You push him back, and he stumbles, catching himself, his gaze narrowing. The two of you square off, and the anger inside you burns hotter, brighter. Your fear and frustration fuel your rage, and you attack, unleashing a series of wild, erratic strikes, each blow more vicious and brutal than the last.
Dooku counters, his expression becoming serious, his movements growing quicker, more precise. He's no longer playing games, and as the fight continues, you can't help but notice the look of concern in his eyes. He's worried. He's afraid.
He's afraid of you.
He should be.
Because in that instant, all of your fear and pain and rage converge, coalescing into a single, blinding thought.
He needs to die.
You rush towards him, and he meets you, the two of you locked in a deadly dance, your lightsabers flashing and hissing. You press the attack, driving him back, and he blocks your strikes, his blade moving with a grace and precision that leaves you breathless.
Your vision blurs, and the sounds around you grow distant, muffled. It's like the whole world is fading, dissolving, and all that's left is him. His eyes. His blade. And the opportunity that's presenting itself.
A chance to end this.
To kill him.
The two of you are locked together, neither of you able to break free. You push harder, your muscles straining, your bones creaking. Your body is on fire, burning from the inside out, and you can feel the sweat rolling down your back, your breath coming in ragged gasps.
The pressure is unbearable. You can feel his blade digging into your own, cutting into the hilt, and you know that if you don't act soon, you'll lose. You grit your teeth, and his lips twitch into a smirk.
"You can't beat me, girl," he sneers, his voice low, taunting.
You open your mouth to retort when the sound of blasterfire erupts in the hallway outside. You glance towards the door, and when you do, Dooku shoves you, sending you stumbling backwards. He lunges towards you, and your instincts kick in, your blade coming up to block his strike.
The hot sting of pain erupts in your hand as his blade slices through the hilt of your shoto, severing the weapon in two. You watch in horror as the halves fall to the ground, the plasma blade sputtering out. Dooku kicks them away, and you back up, your remaining lightsaber raised, the bright glow casting shadows across the walls.
"I offered you a way out," he tells you. “I will not suffer even a Jedi like yourself to live in ignorance."
He steps towards you, and as he does, a series of blaster bolts slam into the door. The hulking form of a B2 teeters and falls backwards, taking the door with it.
The room fills with smoke and dust, and you cough, waving your hand in front of your face, trying to clear the air. You can barely make out the shadowy shapes of Rex and Jesse as they enter, their blasters raised.
The two men take aim, and Dooku reacts, the crimson blade of his lightsaber blocking the incoming barrage. He turns, his cape billowing out behind him, and the red beam of his weapon flashes, deflecting the shots, the bolts ricocheting off the walls.
Jesse ducks and rolls, and as he does, Rex runs towards you, his arm wrapping around your waist. He pulls you away, dragging you behind him, his body shielding yours. As the two of you move, Jesse unloads, the volley of shots forcing Dooku back, the barrage keeping him on the defensive.
Rex grabs your wrist and tugs, pulling you towards the exit. As the two of you rush out into the hallway, a series of explosions ripple through the room, the stone walls trembling. You look over your shoulder, and Dooku emerges from the cloud of dust and smoke, his blade flashing. Jesse fires again, but the Count deflects the shots, the bolts slamming into the walls.
"Move," Rex barks, and the three of you take off running, racing down the corridor. Dooku gives chase, and the crimson beam of his lightsaber streaks through the air, the heat from the weapon scorching the stone.
You run as fast as you can, your chest heaving, the rage inside you burning hotter with every step. He killed Yaddle. He murdered her. And he was the one who attacked you. He was the one who tried to kill you. Now, he's trying to kill you again.
"I'm going to kill him," you growl, and Rex's grip tightens, his voice low and harsh.
"Don't," he snaps. "Focus on getting out of here."
"He has to die," you snarl. You pull against him, but his hold on you is iron-clad. "Let me go. I'm going to kill him."
"No," Rex growls, and you glare at him, a fire raging inside you.
"I have to do this," you tell him, your voice cracking, your hands balling into fists. "I'm going to make him pay."
"You can't," he snaps. He tightens his grip on you, his fingers digging into your skin, and he pushes you ahead of him, guiding you forward. "Not like this."
The three of you round a corner, and a series of blaster bolts slam into the wall to the side, sending fragments of stone and debris flying. Jesse spins and returns fire, and as the two men exchange shots, Rex takes advantage of the distraction, grabbing your arm and yanking you towards him, the two of you stumbling into the next room.
"I can," you insist, and Rex grabs your shoulders, shaking you.
"No, you can't," he snaps. "Look at me. You can't do this."
His tone makes you stop, and you look up at him, a flicker of doubt creeping in. His helmet tilts towards you, his visor scanning your face, and his hands move up, cradling your cheeks.
"I need you to listen to me," he says, his voice urgent and pleading. "I know how much Yaddle meant to you. I know what she was to you. But if you go after him, you'll die. You can't beat him. Not alone. Not like this. Please."
"Rex—"
"Listen to me," he interrupts. He moves closer, and you can hear his ragged breathing through his helmet. "I'm begging you. I need you to be here with me. I need you to come home."
His words strike a chord, and the anger inside you begins to ebb, slowly giving way to something else. Something deeper. You stare at him, and his head tips forward, his visor resting against your forehead.
"Come home," he repeats, his voice barely audible, and your chest aches, a lump forming in your throat.
"I..."
You can't finish the thought. You can feel the fear in his voice, the pain, the desperation. He's scared. Terrified. And it's because of you. Because he cares about you. He needs you.
You swallow hard and nod, and Rex presses his forehead against yours, his body relaxing with a shaky sigh.
"Thank you," he breathes. He strokes his thumb along the line of your jaw, and when he pulls away, his gaze holds yours, his voice laced with regret. "We'll get him, I promise. But not like this."
"Okay," you whisper, and Rex nods, his helmet tilting towards the ground. You place a hand on his chest, waiting for him to meet your gaze again before you speak. "I trust you."
He looks at you for a long moment, searching your eyes. Then, he nods, his shoulders straightening.
"I'll make sure we get him," he tells you. "I promise."
You give him a weak smile, and he pulls you into a hug, his arms wrapping around you, his body enveloping yours. He squeezes you, his grip almost crushing, before he pulls away, his helmet nodding to the doorway.
"Let's get out of here," he says, and you follow him, the two of you sprinting out of the room, leaving Dooku and his men behind. Jesse catches up to you, his blaster still raised, and the three of you continue running, heading back towards the main corridor.
As you race down the hall, Rex's words linger in your mind. He was right. Dooku was too powerful. If you went after him now, there was no way you would survive. And even if you did, what would you be fighting for?
Vengeance.
It wasn't enough. It never would be. Not for Yaddle.
But she wasn't all you had left. There was another reason.
You didn't want to die.
You didn't want Rex to lose you.
You didn't want to hurt him.
So, you ran. You ran as fast as you could. And as you did, a single word echoed in your mind, repeating itself over and over again.
Home.
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blackkatmagic · 4 months ago
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hi!! i love your writing so, so much. your characterizations are always so well thought out and you pack so much into even a few sentences. could i ask for neyo, for the game?
(asdffdfkgdk you're so sweet thank you!!)
It’s not a place clones are meant to be, or meant to find. Neyo doesn’t intend to go looking for it, but—
That’s how these sorts of things always start, maybe.
Drenched, freezing, limbs shaking so hard that he couldn’t aim a blaster if his life depended on it, Neyo drags himself out of the deep river where the shallows finally slow, scrambles up the bank as best he can when the eddies want to drag him back. Water pours from what armor he wasn’t able to tear off when he went under, and the air burns in comparison to the icy river, even though the planet is a cold one, still caught in the throes of an ice age.
The cavern Neyo stumbles up into is warm, though, even more so than as a comparison to the ice melt would suggest. There are crystals burning along the walls, and a deep metal cauldron full of something that shines and shifts and throws off unbearable heat, enough of it that Neyo's blacks are already steaming. He raises a hand to shield his eyes, but his gaze is still drawn to the far end of the massive hall, where a figure in armor sits slumped, lifeless, on a steel throne.
Heavy and expansive, the hush prickles at Neyo's skin, and he looks from the fire-bright glow of the long hall back to the black rush of the river, breath still coming rough and fast in his lungs. For a moment he’s tempted to retreat, to go back into the water, try to find some other way to the surface.
Windu will be looking for him, he thinks. It’s not a thought he would have had three months ago, when the GAR deployed, but—it’s the truth. Windu saw him go into the water, and that means Windu will look for him as long as the admirals allow. Neyo won't be left behind, abandoned on a Separatist world.
Strange. Jarring, to know that as simply as he knows how to breathe.
Grimacing, Neyo rubs a hand over his face, drags it over his wet hair and straightens deliberately. The hall is full of suits of armor and what look like powered-down droids, left standing against the walls like sentinels. There are holotables too, and a rack of spears that look impossibly old, and—
A body, half-hidden by the brazier. A body curled at the armored man’s feet, head resting right between his boots.
Something shivers down Neyo's spine, and he takes a step forward despite himself, drawn like there's a magnetic pull. The scene hits, resonates, hums through his bones as he stares at tattered, rough-spun robes gone grey with dust, an oddly preserved face with a fall of brown hair, a mark seared between the man’s brows. A Jedi, is his first thought, and he takes another step forward before he finally raises his gaze to the body in armor, slumped sideways in the throne.
This planet is an old one. People have lived here since the time of the Rakata, Windu said. It’s not even unusual to trip across some historical artefact, buried along a forgotten river. But something about this feels strange, Neyo thinks, and has to carefully draw a breath into lungs that feel tight, like awe or maybe fear is riding him. That prickle runs across his skin again, too much electricity, and he takes another step, then stops.
There's a lightsaber clipped to the man’s belt. The armored man, not the one in an approximation of Jedi robes. And there's a hand pressed, almost reverent, to the curve of rust-red armor, a flash of something crystalline beneath curled fingers.
For an instant, Neyo almost turns and runs. The river seems a safer choice, and he stares at the two men, at the tableau, at the devotion that’s so clear even so long after death, with something humming heady and fearful in his veins. The river is right there behind him, but—
He steps forward instead of back, moves down the long hall with careful, wary steps. Nothing moves, and the ancient tech is still, unresponsive. The bodies don’t move either, even though Neyo halfway expects them to. When he passes the brazier, the heat intense and almost painful, there's a shiver in the light, like the crystals flickered, but they don’t go dark, and Neyo casts them a glance but doesn’t hesitate as he sinks to one knee beside the man who might be a Jedi.
When he reaches out, the crystalline orb tucked beneath the dead man’s palm seems to move on its own, dropping right into his fingers—
A crackle. A surge, golden and blazing like a trapped sun, that crashes through Neyo's muscles and bones and stays, sinking barbed hooks into his flesh, his mind, his soul—
Neyo hits the ground, vision wavering, head spinning as he claws at bare stone, tries to pull himself up. The crystal is melting, pooling over his bare hand, dripping down his arm, and Neyo might be screaming, might be crying out for help or mercy or something else entirely.
And then, slow, deliberate, like he was just waiting for the right moment, the man on the throne turns his head. He looks down at Neyo, eyes glowing behind his blood-rust helmet, and pauses. One huge hand curls in the Jedi's brown hair, possessive, precise, and the man says, like it’s a revelation, “You have Taung blood.”
Neyo can't breathe, let alone answer, and the world is spinning dark and heavy again, too much for him to bear.
It doesn’t seem to matter. The man on the throne leans down, catching Neyo's chin, tipping his head, and then—
A rumble of sound, thick with humor and no little spiteful satisfaction. “More of our blood than most,” the man says, and lets go. Neyo struggles to rise, to get away, but his muscles won't answer, his body won't respond even as he fights the deadness of his limbs like a wild thing, furious and afraid.
“Like a spark,” the man says, and leans back, catching the limp arm of the other body, pulling. He drags the maybe-Jedi into his lap, sprawling back like the throne was made only for him, and tips his head, something pleased and pensive in the motion.
“Forge-fire,” he says, and it’s an order, a command that burns into Neyo's skin. He gasps, clawing at stone, but the world is darkening, the hall fading. The heat slides like liquid across his skin, heavy as water, and the crystal eating into his skin burns like acid—
“—Commander! Neyo!”
Shock jars Neyo awake, and he jerks up, over, coughing hard. There's water in his lungs, an ache in his chest like broken ribs, but there's a hand on his shoulder too, a body beside him. Warm cloth drapes over him, blocking out the chill of the air, and Neyo clutches at it, drags it closer around himself as he chokes and gags up what feels like half a river’s worth of water.
“Neyo,” Windu says, thick with relief, and there's a breath, a hand under Neyo's elbow. “Forgive me, but we have to go. There are droids on their way, and Ponds has a speeder waiting.”
Windu came for him. Even after enemy lines moved, Neyo thinks, and nods, forcing his eyes open. When Windu helps him up, he staggers, leans fully on Windu's strength for a moment as he reorients himself.
Just a strange dream, he thinks, even if he’s never dreamed like that before. Brass’s stories about hidden treasure and lost empires twisted up with the stress of hypothermia, and—
Crystal catches the sunlight, shivering, shimmering where it’s pockmarked across Neyo's skin like a spill of molten metal, and Neyo freezes, staring at it as his mind trips, trips, trips over the fact of its existence.
His blacks are dry, too. He’s coughing up water, but his blacks are perfectly dry.
“Commander?” Windu asks, concerned, and Neyo instantly pulls his sleeve down, hides the crystal beneath the drape of Windu's robe.
Clones get decommissioned for saying strange things. Neyo's made sure to never let himself slip outside of normal limits, has never shown emotion, has never indulged in the bits of rebellion clones use to define themselves. He’s been a good soldier.
One strange encounter in the dark won't change that. He won't let it.
“Just catching my breath, sir,” he says, and Windu nods, perfectly trusting, perfectly willing to believe him.
“I'm glad I found you,” he says, and it’s so honest that Neyo has to close his eyes and just…breathe for a moment.
He thinks of the possible Jedi on the ground beneath that huge Mandalorian's boots, the press of a lifeless hand to rust-red armor. Thinks of the word the Mandalorian used, the weight of his stare.
Taung, he’d said. Sparks and forge-fire.
It shivers through Neyo, hot like that hidden cavern, and he swallows hard, makes himself move forward as Windu helps him down the slope.
Just a dream, he thinks, pressing his fingers to the slickness of the crystal in his skin. And yet.
And yet.
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shootingstarpilot · 1 year ago
Text
A scene that will only be referenced in the next chapter, but I was overcome with the urge to write it out anyway:
Boil catches Stitch's entry onto the bridge out of the corner of his eye.
He elbows Waxer, grinning. The kid's got a pair of crutches under one arm, and they'd both noticed the way the Commander had been leaning on the holotable, stubbornly ignoring the General's not-so-subtle disapproving look and the chair Waxer had fruitlessly nudged into place behind him.
This is going to be a show.
Stitch scans the bridge, eyes narrowed, until he catches sight of the Commander. He walks forward, stopping a few respectful feet behind him, and--
waits.
Thirty seconds pass.
Then a minute.
More and more eyes are landing on him. Poorly-muffled giggling blooms across the bridge.
"Hi, Stitch," Waxer says cheerfully.
"Hi, sir," Stitch says politely, his gaze flickering sideways in acknowledgement before returning to Cody's back.
Cody's shoulders slump.
Eventually, the holocall ends. General Kenobi is the first to turn around.
"Hello, Stitch," he says, smiling faintly. "Can I help you?"
"No thank you, sir. I'm waiting for the Commander, sir."
There's only so long Cody can avoid turning around, and he knows it. With a long, deep sigh, he turns.
"Hi, sir," Stitch says brightly, and thrusts the crutches forward. "You forgot these."
"Those aren't mine," Cody says immediately. "I left mine in my office. I'll grab them after."
"These are yours," Stitch says patiently. "I put a sticker on them when Helix first gave them to you. See?"
He points. Cody leans forward, searching despite himself--
His expression flattens out.
"It's a lightsaber," Stitch says helpfully. "Needle made it. He said you'd forgotten your crutches before, and I thought a sticker would be helpful for you to remember which are yours. Helix says taking initiative is a good thing."
"I... see."
He still doesn't take them.
Stitch sighs. "Is this because Helix yelled at you for kicking droids again, and you don't want to prove him right?"
"No," Cody grinds out, and Waxer muffles a wheezing laugh in Boil's shoulder. General Kenobi's expression is carefully blank.
"Is it because--"
"They're uncomfortable," Cody sighs. He lowers his voice, conscious of their delighted audience, and there's a ripple of coughing and clearing of throats as people turn back to their assigned tasks. "They-- my shoulders keep cramping. I need to be able to fire a blaster, Stitch. I'm minimizing my movement as much as possible, I promise."
"Uncomfortable," Stitch echos, looking baffled. "Why didn't you say so, sir? Give me-- ten minutes, please. I can fix that. I'll be back soon. Can you sit down in the meantime, please?"
"I'll make sure he does, Stitch," the General interjects, and Stitch nods seriously.
"Thank you, sir," he says, and nods at them both before vanishing out the door.
"You're enjoying this far too much, sir," Cody hisses, as Kenobi carefully helps him settle into the long-ignored chair.
"My dear Commander," Kenobi says, laughing, "I'm simply glad it's not me this time."
Cody's glare could incinerate a Hutt. The General remains cheerfully unaffected.
When Stitch returns, he brings with him a painstakingly adjusted pair of crutches. Layers of cotton batting is tied carefully to the pads, and the grips have been adjusted a few levels upwards.
"Try these, please," he says, handing them over.
Cody reluctantly accepts them. "All right. Later, when I--"
Stitch is looking at him very expectantly.
He sighs. "Yes, Stitch."
He levers himself to his feet and takes a few halting steps. Boil watches, fascinated, as astonishment flickers across his expression before it settles into a quiet resignation.
"This-- is better," he mutters. "Very much so."
Stitch beams. "Thank you, sir! And you'll make sure to use them until you're cleared?"
"Yes, Stitch."
"And you won't forget about your follow-up tomorrow? You can have a juice box. Or a pudding cup. You can choose. Needle got some."
Waxer coos. Cody glares at him.
("That's KP duty for you," Boil whispers. "Just you wait.")
"I won't, Stitch."
"Good. Thank you, sir. And- Helix told me to tell you that you- that you're lucky you got me and not him, sir, because he'd be, um- a damn sight louder, sir, because he's got no patience for- for idiots, sir."
A beat.
"That's from him, sir," Stitch repeats anxiously.
Cody sighs. "That's all right, Stitch. Well done."
Stitch brightens immediately, rocking back on his heels. "I'll save you a chocolate pudding cup, sir, if you like. Those ones are the best, so they tend to go fast."
A smile flickers across Cody's face. "Thank you. I'd appreciate it. You're dismissed."
Stitch salutes-- shiny little tubie, small gods-- and vanishes out the door.
Kenobi has given up the game entirely, now, and is grinning broadly. Cody turns on him immediately.
"Stop that."
"Stop what, my dear?"
"The thing you're doing with your face."
"Smiling?"
"Smugly. Yes."
"I'm just pleased with our medics' professionalism, Commander."
"I've got two dozen witnesses to that for the next time you try to dodge them."
"Noted. Can I have your pudding cup?"
"No."
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thestarkerisobvious · 6 months ago
Text
Starker
(okay I swear i started to write this out as a one-shot and what is it now???? This is JUST the first chapter. I hate you brain. Anyway enjoy.)
Tony’s mouth was warm and greedy and skillful and everywhere.  His hands on Peter’s ass gripped hard enough to leave bruises and he clung to Peter like a drowning man.  And Peter…
…Peter could hear the air conditioner.  He could hear the lights they had accidentally left on three rooms down.  The walls in Tony’s bedroom were getting too close again and if Peter didn’t call this to a halt he’d be smelling concrete dust again dammit…
Tenderly he pushed Tony away.  Tony went willingly, even if his face was full of disappointment.  Peter, however, was grinning.   He was grinning from ear to ear.  Even with the claustrophobia kicking in… that too-close too-much sensation that came when Tony’s body had been too heavy and too on him (but oh dammit he LOVED it when Tony’s body was on him) that would quickly make sex turn from Something Enjoyable into Something To Be Endured… even with the faint smell of concrete dust haunting his brain… still Peter grinned.
“Do we need a break?” Tony asked, sounding breathless.  He was used to Peter needing time-outs during sex, encouraged it even, but was confused by the happy look on his lover’s face.
Peter made a moaning noise that could have meant anything.  He didn’t WANT Tony to stop - didn’t want it at all.  But his spider-senses were overwhelmed whether he liked it or not. He still had his hands on Tony’s body, even as he kept his own body away.
“Want a drink?” Tony offered, and that was normal.  To stop in the middle of sex and do something else entirely - make a snack in the kitchen, have a discussion about which Avenger was the most obnoxious that week, or even go to the lab to tinker.  Completely naked, of course.  And, yes, sometimes those trips to the kitchen devolved into Peter being banged into the stove.  One memorable trip to the lab resulted in Peter being bent over a holotable and the holotable breaking.  Although the majority of their mid-sex breaks weren’t that expensive.
But that’s not what Peter wanted now.  Dammit, Tony had been making him feel so good just now.  Had been eating him up like a feast.  Like a man who had been starved to death in the desert.  Peter really, really didn’t want to stop.
They could have dealt with the Spider-Sense-Overload another way -  Tony was certainly always up for Peter riding his cock - but even that didn’t sound sufficient.
Which was why Peter stood up from the enormous bed and, taking Tony by the hand, coyishly led him out of the room.
“I think… I think I want you to do it to me on your sofa.”
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dindjarindiaries · 8 months ago
Text
Senator's Shadow - Chapter 4
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summary: Tensions rise more than ever before as you, Sergeant Hunter, and the rest of Clone Force 99 take action.
pairing: hunter (the bad batch) x fem!reader
rating: mature (18+)
tags: bodyguard romance, forbidden love, fluff & angst, emotional & physical hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence, injuries & blood, trauma, eventual/mild smut
word count: 9.769k
chapter 3 ⟸ series masterlist ⟹ chapter 5
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chapter 4 ⟹
You triple checked the fastening on your holster before you let out a soft sigh and moved the skirt of your dress to conceal it. There was an invisible burn on the skin of your thigh that had been left behind by another touch days ago, and it continued to remind you of its lovely ache even now. You had half a mind to let the holster unfasten itself again, but your rationality won that battle time and time again.
The room would have been pitch black if it weren’t for the dim lights illuminating the space of your suite. Your eyes found the chrono and you raised your brow at how early it was. At least it would still be the same person greeting you outside your doors.
You kept a comfortable shawl around your shoulders as you approached the doors and let them slide open. The sergeant tensed as he spun around to face you, a careful hand set over his holster before his helmet straightened in realization. He relaxed as his visor gave you a quick once-over.
“Senator.” Hunter’s tone failed to hide his concern, his voice sending a sweet shockwave of comfort through your tired body. “I thought I heard some movement in there.”
You lifted an eyebrow. “So much for trying to stay quiet.”
Hunter huffed, though the exhale was drawn out into a longer breath. “Having trouble sleeping again?”
You tightened your lips as your gaze fell from his visor. Your shoulders lifted in a small shrug before you answered. “Sleep just feels secondary to everything else at the moment.”
Hunter lifted his arms from his sides to remove his helmet. Your gaze found his own as his brown eyes, as vulnerable and observant as ever, sparkled at you. “I understand.”
The small smile that stretched across your lips was genuine. “I know.” The two of you stared at one another for much too long before you glanced at your room over your shoulder. “I’ve been working on the plans for tonight’s mission, if you want to get an early look.”
Hunter’s brow raised. “The perks of having the last watch, huh?” You laughed and shook your head, leading him inside the room. “If Tech hears about this…”
You shot him an amused look as the doors to your room closed behind him. “None of them will hear about this, unless you’ve been enjoying all their teasing these past few days.”
Hunter rolled his eyes. “I wish I could say I wasn’t used to it.”
You had to force out a chuckle when the words struck you with an unexpected pang of jealousy. Did the sergeant often grow so close to those he served that he would be used to such teasing from his squad? You hushed your exhausted mind’s overthinking and focused on the holotable in front of you. “Here’s the village we’ll be protecting tonight.”
Hunter tightened his grasp on the helmet tucked underneath his arm as the other rested upon the edge of the holotable. “This is the one Tech identified?”
You nodded at him. “It’s pretty far from the capitol. We can make it on foot, but it could take a while.”
Hunter’s gaze slid over to you for a moment. You could have gasped at how handsome he looked with the blue light of the holo illuminating his face, highlighting the shadows around his chiseled face. “Shouldn’t be a problem for us.”
You turned to face the holomap again before you could get more flustered. “Great. We should leave before daylight’s completely gone. It’s more than likely they’ll attack right at nightfall.”
Hunter nodded in your periphery. “Echo’s been working on finding a good exit, unless you already had one in mind.”
You smiled. “I’d appreciate his insight on that. That’s the last piece we really need.”
Hunter took a deep breath, his jaw circling before he spoke. “I figure Wrecker and I will be teaming up out there to identify any explosives. I can sense most of them, and he could disarm them in his sleep.” You giggled at that. “We’ll have Crosshair positioned up high as the lookout.”
The sergeant’s eyes glazed over with worry as he paused in consideration.
“I’d prefer Tech to be monitoring comms somewhere near him. He said his ankle’s better, but I’m not convinced that it’s ready for all this action.” You couldn’t help smiling at the concern he showed for his squadmate. “Echo will be on foot ready to intercept them or cause a diversion. As for you, Senator…”
Hunter paused again, the corner of his mouth raising before he went on.
“Well, what do you want to do?”
You crossed your arms and returned his look. “I think it’s most sensible for me to pair up with Echo.”
“I’d say the same.” Hunter lifted an eyebrow. “But is that what you want to do?”
You hadn’t realized the sergeant could be this bold, especially so early in the morning—but the upcoming fight wasn’t the only storm that had been brewing ever since the welcome banquet. Your gaze remained in his as you responded. “What I want doesn’t matter. Only the safety of your squad and my people does.” You nodded before lowering your head. “That’s why we have to take the sensible approach.”
Hunter let out a soft chuckle. “My squad isn’t really used to the ‘sensible approach,’ Senator.” He took a step closer and reached his free hand towards you. The touch that had been haunting you for days found your chin, gently tilting your head back up so that your eyes met his again. You parted your lips in awe of him as he went on. “And trust me, you don’t have to sacrifice all your wants for your people’s needs.” He nodded. “You can still fulfill both.”
Your gaze searched his as you sat in the heavy silence. Your voice was nothing more than a whisper as you broke it. “Are we still talking about the plan, Sergeant?”
Hunter gave you a once-over that could have made you melt if you weren’t so well-versed in composure. “If that’s what you want, Senator.”
An unprecedented warmth blazed over you from head-to-toe as you uncrossed your arms and stared at him. Your heart raced, the blood pounding in your ears, as you slowly drew closer to him out of instinct. He didn’t move, instead letting you be the one in control of the situation. It only made you want him more.
But your nose couldn’t even brush his before your gaze fell to the hand of his that still held your chin. You lifted your hands to gently wrap around his wrist, lowering his hand and holding it politely between both of yours. With a deep breath, you spoke in a quiet yet honest voice. “What I want is to continue protecting those I care about.”
The hand on top of his gave it a small pat as you gained the faith to meet his gaze again. It was hard to read the emotions you found there, but there was an undeniable sparkle that hadn’t been there before. He had understood everything about you up to that point, and you needed him to continue doing so.
“I need that above all else.”
And there it was, the usual furrow in his brow that proved he was somehow inside your mind, understanding each motivation behind whatever you did. There we no doubt he saw it, too, the truth of what would happen if this storm broke. Any path that could potentially lead him to desertion wasn’t one you were willing to take, not with the danger that would pose to him—and his squad.
Hunter nodded as dutifully as ever. “I understand.” The lack of disappointment in his voice, exchanged for fondness, made the pill much easier to swallow.
You managed a smile for him. “Of course you do.”
Hunter returned your smile with a sweet huff. You freed his hand as your arms returned to your sides. He was back to his usual cadence as he spoke again. “I didn’t realize you were so passionate about mission plans, Senator.”
Your ears burned, but you didn’t fight the way your smile grew in amusement at his words. “I’m very passionate about a lot of things, Sergeant.” You gave yourself a moment to enjoy the warm flush that spread across his cheeks before you looked at the holomap again. “So, I’ll position myself with Echo.”
“I’m sure he’ll appreciate the help.” Hunter continued to wear a fond smile even as he looked upon the holographic plans. “Usually, it’s him and Tech, but… not with Tech’s ankle.”
You raised a curious brow. “Is Crosshair always alone, then?”
Hunter hummed. “He likes it that way.” His gaze slid over to you. “Wrecker doesn’t do heights, Echo can’t stay still, and Tech doesn’t really do silence.”
Your lips spread wide in an amused smile. “And you, Sergeant?”
Hunter shrugged, raising his chin as he began to return your smile. “I’m a man of action, Senator.”
You giggled, the sound more giddy than you had hoped it would be, and glanced down at your feet for a moment. “I had a feeling you’d say that.”
“I’m not surprised.” You lifted your head up to face him again, though he had already focused back on the dimly lit plans. The hint of a smile still tugged at the corner of his mouth even as he changed the subject. “I can’t imagine wearing our armor will be an option with all this secrecy.”
“Actually, you can wear it, and you should.” Hunter’s head snapped towards you at that. “I have a solution.”
Hunter tilted his head. “What kind of a solution?”
“A simple one.” You shrugged him off and adjusted the wrap that was still sitting on your shoulders. “You’ll see it later tonight.”
Hunter set his free hand on his hip. “A surprise, huh?”
The material of the wrap began to gently slide off your shoulders, and you let it pool at your elbows. “You’ll find that I’m full of them.”
It was hard to miss Hunter’s gaze flickering over you at the quick action, and even harder to miss the tightening of his jaw as he turned back to the holotable one more time. He paused to take a deep breath before speaking again. “Well, I should get back out there before anyone notices I’m gone.”
You nodded and considered teasing him, but let it go for now. “Right.”
Hunter returned your nod, and you deactivated the holotable as he turned towards the doors. He only made it a few steps before the internal battle you were having with yourself decided on a victor.
“Sergeant?”
Hunter stopped in his tracks, turning over his shoulder to face you again without hesitation.
You smiled at him once more. “Thank you.”
His earnest brow furrowed together. “For what, Senator?”
“For understanding.” Your gaze gave him the same once-over he had given you earlier. “All of it.”
Hunter nodded dutifully, but the action couldn’t fully hide the hard swallow he took. “It’s not easy being a leader.” He gestured with his head to the doors behind him. “I’m always here if you want to talk.”
You beamed and echoed your own words from before. “I know.”
Hunter offered one last small smile before he turned back to the doors, sliding his helmet on as they opened for him. You watched him go until the doors hid him from sight once again. With a deep exhale, you ran your hand along your forehead, resisting the burning ache in your chest that demanded you bring him back in and finish whatever he was going to let you start.
This fight was taking an entirely different type of strength from you, and it wasn’t something you could have ever trained yourself for.
From there, the rest of the day proceeded as usual, with you attending diplomatic meetings while Clone Force 99 continued to sweep the perimeter—and no doubt did whatever smaller tasks they had to for the mission that night. You were still focused on your attempts to reach a peaceful compromise through diplomacy, even if you knew the effort was in vain. You weren’t one to give up easily.
But there was nothing like exchanging your gown for your tactical clothes. You could breathe easier as you laced up your boots and secured your holster over the material on your thigh rather than vice versa. Having better access to your blaster and knife provided you with a security you hadn’t felt since you landed onworld—at least, when you weren’t in the presence of Clone Force 99.
After triple checking you had everything ready for yourself and for the squad, you approached the doors. They opened, and immediately, Tech turned to face you, looking up from his datapad as he did so.
“Tech, hail the squad.” You nodded at him with a small smile. “It’s time we get ready to go.”
Tech returned your nod. “Yes, Senator.” He then shifted away to speak into the comms. “Hunter, the senator is ready for us.”
“Great.” You had to bite your cheek to keep your smile from growing at the sound of Hunter’s voice. “Let’s move out, boys.”
You heard the sound of some of their doors opening, but Tech spoke before you could truly focus on it. “I have to say, Senator, that was very punctual. The calculations I made for how much time you would require clearly underestimated you.” He set his datapad on his belt and tilted his helmet. “My apologies.”
You let out a soft laugh and set a hand on his shoulder. “There’s no need to apologize, Tech. I appreciate you keeping us on schedule.”
Tech’s eyes brightened at your praise before he nodded once more. You lowered your hand and looked to the side, where your gaze unsurprisingly connected with Hunter’s visor.
He had stopped in his tracks, and though his helmet barely moved, you could still feel the heat of his stare observing your new look. You resisted the urge to break your gaze even as your ears started to burn. The sergeant only came to his senses when Wrecker knocked his shoulder against Hunter’s as he passed him by. You chuckled as you watched Hunter give his helmet a few small shakes before closing the distance over to you.
You gestured with your head to the suite behind you as you faced the group. “Let’s make this quick.”
They all nodded, giving you the freedom to turn around and lead them inside. You reached for the pile you had made on the table and faced them once again.
“Here.” You began to distribute the black fabric to each of them, recalling the order in which you had stacked their sizes. “You’ll need these.”
“What are they?” Echo was the first one to ask.
“Hooded ponchos.” The last one you had to hand out was Hunter’s, and his gloved hands brushed yours as he took it. You somehow pushed down the rush of warmth the small moment brought you. “These will help to keep your armor concealed, including your helmets.”
“Cool,” Wrecker breathed as he slid it on over his broad figure. “Do you have one too, Senator?”
You raised an eyebrow at him. “Kind of.”
There was no missing the smile in Hunter’s modulated voice as he spoke next. “What a nice surprise.”
You flashed him a smile of your own. “I’m full of them.” You caught the fond tilt of Hunter’s helmet before you began to walk over to the holotable. “We’ll make the briefing quick so we can stay on schedule.”
“That would be wise,” Tech chimed in, even as he finished adjusting the poncho on his lean frame. Crosshair fixed Tech’s hood when it failed to make it over the antenna on his helmet.
“I’m sure you’ve done plenty of research and preparation on your own, which will help this go even faster.” You illuminated the display, which you had since added red markers to. Each marker indicated a person’s designated position, following what you and Hunter had discussed that morning. “Sergeant Hunter and Wrecker will be searching for any explosives they may have planted.”
“Oh, yeah!” Wrecker cheered.
“To disarm them,” Hunter reminded him.
“Oh.” Wrecker attempted to shrug off his disappointment. “Yeah.”
“Echo and I will be covering for them on the ground.” You pointed out your and Echo’s entry markers. Echo’s gaze flashed with surprise, but he nodded dutifully nonetheless. “Crosshair, we need you to keep watch up here and be ready to lay down additional cover.” Crosshair looked pleased at that, crossing his arms as he nodded. “And Tech, you’ll be sticking with Crosshair to monitor comms and help him analyze the situation from a distance.”
Tech’s eyes widened behind his goggles as he lifted a finger. “I typically complete those kinds of calculations and functions on the ground as well, Senator, if you would like me to join you and Echo for additional—.”
Hunter’s voice was low as he cut him off. “Not happening.” His visor looked pointedly at Tech’s ankle. “Running around on that injury in the dark is asking for trouble. You need to heal.”
Tech sighed. “I have told you, Hunter, that the ligaments in my ankle are much stronger now. I am more than capable of navigating this terrain without an issue.”
“Still.” Hunter lifted his helmet from his head to convey his severity to Tech. “You’re staying with Crosshair this time. That’s an order.”
Tech let out an annoyed exhale, but ultimately nodded. Crosshair snickered and rocked his shoulder against Tech’s as he spoke. “Lucky me.”
Hunter’s gaze slid over to you, no doubt catching the small smile you were wearing at the sight of his protectiveness for his squad. “You were saying, Senator?”
You shrugged. “That’s really it. Otherwise, just remember to keep your blasters on stun. The less injuries, the better.”
Hunter reached for something on his belt and handed it to you. “Here’s one of our extra comms.” He nodded as he closed your fingers around it. “In case you get separated.”
You returned his nod. “Thank you, Sergeant.” Hunter was beaming, despite the worry that swam in the depths of his gaze. You wished you could reassure him, but a new thought came to mind, and you had to focus on your audience. “Echo, how did getting an exit go?”
“Well, Senator, I definitely found one.” Echo removed his helmet, revealing his furrowed brow as he did so. “But you’re not gonna like it.” His gaze found Hunter as his voice lowered. “Neither are you.”
You and Hunter responded at the same time. “Why?”
Echo exhaled and walked over to an armoire that was meant to hold outerwear jackets. His fingers tested the edges until he pressed down, and the armoire slowly turned to reveal a dark, stone-walled corridor. Your jaw dropped, and when you stole a glance at Hunter, you saw his jaw tensed and his eyes widened to double their usual size.
There were a thousand questions running through your mind, but you made yourself pick the one that would most benefit the situation at hand. “Where does it lead to?”
Echo gestured with his head to the nearest viewport. “The outside, behind some decorative flora.”
You offered him an impressed raise of your brow. “How did you find it?”
Hunter wasn’t as eager. “And why didn’t you say anything earlier?”
“I was able to access the schematics.” Echo lifted his right arm. “I wanted to make sure it actually existed before I said anything.” Echo paused to look into the corridor. “Now we know it’s real.”
You nodded at him. “This is perfect, Echo.”
“Perfect?” Hunter was appalled when you turned to meet his gaze. “Senator, this gives them easy access to your private quarters. What if they use it to—.”
“Relax, Sarge.” Crosshair’s cool tone contrasted greatly against Hunter’s hot frustration and concern. “Nothing’s happened to her yet.”
“And now we know about it, like Echo said,” Wrecker added. “We can keep an extra eye out.”
“Exactly.” You lifted your brow at Hunter. “It’s just as much our advantage as it is theirs. Now we can come and go for these missions as we please.”
Tech was the last one to chime in. “Your concern is unwarranted.”
Hunter gave the group one last disbelieving look before he sighed and nodded. “You’re right.” It wasn’t hard to see the gears of his mind turning as he went on. “Just know we’ll have to start doubling up our watch shifts. One at the doors, and one wherever this leads.”
Echo was the voice of reason. “If that’s what the senator wants.”
You had to resist laughing as you looked at Hunter again. His eyes pleaded with you, and you weren’t strong enough to deny him. It was a well-founded concern that made your chest warm. “Whatever puts you at ease, Sergeant. For now…” you turned to Echo and nodded, “we have to get going.”
“That is correct.” Tech looked down at his datapad, which no doubt displayed a chrono for him. “We will be off schedule if we delay any longer.”
You turned off the holotable and walked over to where your own hood and half-mask awaited you. “Echo,” you set both items in place, “care to lead the way?”
Echo nodded, setting his helmet back over his head and covering it with his hood. You looked over to see Hunter doing the same, though you were still able to catch his worried eye before it disappeared from view. You were the first to follow Echo inside, with the other four bringing up the rear. It was Tech who pressed whatever Echo had to close the armoire’s entrance, and the group all activated their torches to light up the corridor.
“It looks like this place hasn’t been touched for years,” Echo commented as you inhaled the stale air and passed plenty of abandoned cobwebs.
“I wonder why it exists,” you mused.
“It was likely installed by a previous ruler or diplomat who occupied the suite you’re currently residing in,” Tech theorized, unable to help himself. “This would have been a critical means of escape in the event of an emergency or threat to their life, which is quite often the case for people in power.”
“Trust me, I get it,” you murmured.
There was a hand on your back, but it was familiar enough to keep you from reacting to it. You looked over to see Hunter at your side, his helmet tilted. You offered him a reassuring nod, along with a smile you couldn’t resist. He returned the nod and lowered his hand, taking his previous place a few steps behind you.
After a few stairs and a turn around a dark corner, the group came upon the exterior door. It took a few seconds for Echo to find the activation, and once he did, the door slid open the same way the armoire had. He stepped out first and cleared the area before inviting you and the squad to do the same.
“You weren’t lying, Echo.” You barely dodged the branches of a hedge as he guided your way around the flora. “This is right in the middle of the gardens.”
Hunter made his way closer to the front of the group. “It’s good at concealing the entrance.”
“It is.” Echo agreed with the sergeant before turning his helmet to you. “You’re gonna have to lead from here, Senator.”
You nodded. “All right, everyone. Get ready for a trek.”
You then ran forward, blending in with the darkness of the night thanks to your wardrobe. The squad followed at your heels, with everyone maintaining the silence as you traversed your way through the forests of Eirus. Only the sounds of your feet treading upon the foliage and the chirping of nightlife could be heard—at least, for most of you. You weren’t sure what else Hunter was, or could be, picking up on.
You were nearly there when Hunter set a gentle hand on your shoulder to stop you. His other hand was raised in a fist, which signaled the rest of the squad to pause as well. You watched as Hunter bent low to the ground and picked up some of the dirt, sifting it between his gloved fingers.
Hunter’s voice was low when he spoke. “They’ve been through here.” He stood back up to his full height and faced the squad. “Crosshair, head up.” Hunter pointed to a nearby tree, and Crosshair nodded back he shouldered his rifle and began to climb. “Tech, stay low.”
Tech nodded and drew his blaster as he crept close to the trunk of the tree Crosshair was climbing. Hunter released a gentle breath as he turned to you and Echo, though his visor lingered on you.
“We’ll split up here. I can’t sense much yet, but we’ll stay in touch.” Hunter gestured to his helmet.
“Sounds good.” You nodded, but within your chest, a feeling of dread crept up at the idea of separating. “You two stay safe, okay?” You forced the feeling away by focusing on Wrecker. “Sorry, Wrecker, but I don’t want to see any explosions.”
Wrecker huffed. “This one time, Senator, I’ll agree with ya’.” He clapped a hand on your shoulder. “We’ll be fine.”
Hunter gestured with his helmet to Wrecker. “What he said.”
You smiled and nodded once more, turning to face Echo. Yet there was a familiar hand that found yours in the dark, his fingers brushing yours with a gentle squeeze before he pushed ahead into the foliage. You stared after Hunter in awe for a moment, your chest warming with an entirely different feeling as you focused on Echo.
The ARC trooper nodded at you. “Ready, Senator?”
You raised your blaster with a small smile. “After you, Echo.”
He tilted his helmet in a substitution for a smile before running ahead. You followed him closely, using the foliage for cover as you went. You were surprised when the silence between the two of you was broken by Echo, whose tone was as eager as you had ever heard it. “So… you and Hunter, huh?”
Your eyes widened as you flashed him a surprised look. “What?” You hoped you sounded as surprised as you felt, and that the burning of your ears was the only thing giving you away.
Echo chuckled. “I’m only kidding, Senator.” His helmet gave you a quick glance. “But I have to say, he’s really taken a liking to you.”
The warmth was impossible to fight, even if you were able to keep your face straight. “Is that so?” Echo paused to nod at you before he kept going. You followed, but your curiosity couldn’t contain itself. “What makes you say that?”
“Well, even though I’m still fairly new to the squad, it's always been clear that politicians are not Hunter’s specialty. But the way he acts around you?” He shook his helmet in a genuine kind of disbelief. “It’s something I’ve never seen before.”
You couldn’t fight the smile any longer, but you at least aimed it towards your feet as you watched them traverse the terrain. “Really? That surprises me.”
“I mean, I’m surprised he’s even letting me be the one to pair up with you on this mission.” Echo stopped, encouraging you to do the same as the two of you sat along the edge of the foliage. “He’s very, very insistent about your safety.”
You beamed and hoped it was hidden behind the mask that covered the lower half of your face. “I feel the same way about his safety, and that of the rest of your squad.” You took a deep breath as your worries started to return. “You’re all risking a lot for me.”
Echo tilted his helmet at you. “That’s what we do, Senator. We know the risks.” He huffed. “And this squad loves them.”
You laughed softly and shook your head. “You have a wonderful squad, Echo. You’re very fortunate.”
“I am.” Echo reached forward to set his hand on your shoulder. “But as far as I’m concerned, it’s your squad right now, too.” His tone became even more lighthearted as he went on. “Hunter’s not the only one you’ve won over.”
You grinned at him, despite the fact he couldn’t see it beneath your mask. “Thank you, Echo. Truly. That’s very kind of you.” He nodded and lowered his hand. With a deep breath, you gestured with your head towards the outskirts of the nearby village. “With all that being said, what’s your play?”
Echo’s visor scanned the border. “Usually, I wait for one of two things. First, any suspicious movement along the edges.” He pointed towards the buildings closest to you. “Second, anything reported by the squad.”
“And if it’s quiet for a while?”
Echo lifted a hand to his helmet. “I check in.” He pressed down. “Hunter, we’re in position. How are things going so far?”
“They look busy,” Crosshair’s voice spoke into the earpiece you’d attached to the comm Hunter had given you. “Not sure if it’s because they’re finding things or if they’re still looking.”
“According to the patterns of the other attacks, it is likely there will be at least three explosives planted throughout the village,” Tech informed the group. “Hunter is aware of this, and they are seeking out these three. Given that this is a smaller village, however, there may be less.”
“Or more,” you breathed in worry, but didn’t activate the comm.
“More?” Echo’s visor stared at you.
“It could be a part of their strategy.” You furrowed your brow as the pieces started to come together. “A more brutal attack on a small village like this would expedite the people’s desire to get a resolution.”
“And make them more desperate.” Echo finished the thought for you. He cursed and activated his comm again. “Hunter, Wrecker, be on the lookout for more than three.”
“More?” Tech repeated the word just as Echo had before.
You chimed in before Tech could go on. “This could be their play. Attacking a small village like this with more brutality would get the people of Eirus to do whatever it takes to make these attacks stop.”
“The senator’s right.” Your heart dropped into your stomach at the haunted sound of Hunter’s voice. “Echo, Senator, I hope you two are good at disarming explosives. Wrecker and I are gonna need some backup.”
You and Echo shared a tense look, and Echo was the one bold enough to ask the question you were both thinking of. “How many are there?”
“Too many. It’s a hell of a lot more than three.”
You closed your eyes and composed yourself with a breath. You had faced odds much higher than this during your freedom fighting days, but with all those same allies now working against you, the weight of it all was much heavier. “We’ll start searching on the eastern half,” Echo assured Hunter.
“Be careful.”
The pure concern in Hunter’s tone wasn’t lost through the comms. You lifted yours to your mask. “You too.”
“How touching.” Crosshair’s tone was as cool as ever as he spoke once again. “But you two better get a move on, Echo. You’ve got hostiles inbound.”
“Already?” Echo sighed and readied his blaster. You did the same. “Great.”
“I hope you’re ready for some action, Echo.” You kept your tone light as you tilted your head at him.
Echo huffed and waved his blaster around. “Let’s just hope I’m not rusty after this little break of ours.”
You chuckled and let him lead the way. While you might have been a freedom fighter, Echo was an ARC trooper of the Republic, and those were credentials you could never surpass. He stuck to the shadows, using your dark clothing to your advantage, and kept moving until he could spot the hostiles Crosshair had pointed out. They weren’t anyone you could recognize, at least not from this distance.
Echo let out a breath. “I know we’re the diversion, but… we need a diversion.”
You wasted no time leaning down to the dirt to grab a stone and throwing it in the opposite direction of where you were headed. It made impact with the side of a building, catching the hostiles’ attention as they jogged off in that direction.
Echo’s visor gave you an incredulous look. “How did you know that would work?”
You shrugged. “Not all these people are trained fighters. They’ll get jumpy at any sound they hear.” You gestured with your blaster to the way ahead. “Come on.”
You and Echo ran forward, finally reaching the edge of the village. Your search for explosives began on the outermost exteriors of the sparse village’s infrastructure, and it came up fruitless until you got to your fourth building. “Senator,” Echo announced, his voice a hushed whisper. “We’ve got one.”
You looked over his shoulder and saw the circular explosive. It had no indication of when it would detonate, and that meant only one thing. “They have to be activated.”
Echo’s visor found your gaze again. “We have no idea when they’re gonna be set off.”
You lifted the comm to your mask again. “Tech, do you have any data on what time the past attacks have taken place?”
“I do.” Tech was quick to answer, and even quicker to provide said data. “The times have been rather inconsistent, but… they do follow an odd pattern.”
“What kind of pattern?” Echo questioned.
“They always take place at the top of the hour.” Your blood started to roar in your ears. “Strategically speaking, that’s not very sound.”
You found your voice again. “What time is it now?”
“Nine minutes until the hour.”
Your heart dropped into your stomach. You and Echo shared a look that didn’t need expressions to be understood. Echo lifted his hand to his helmet. “Hunter, Wrecker, are you hearing this?”
“Affirmative.” Hunter somehow sounded calm and worried at the same time. He projected a comfort that was nothing short of admirable. “Wrecker’s already disarmed four of them on our side. It shouldn’t be long before we can help you two out.” You exhaled an anxious breath. “Crosshair, keep an eye on those hostiles. We might need you to make some stun shots for us.”
“I read you loud and clear.” Crosshair sounded enthusiastic—at least, as much as he possibly could.
“All right, Senator, I can disarm these.” Echo got right down to business. “I may not be as good as Wrecker, but I’ve got the tools for it.” He raised his right arm.
You nodded. “Be careful, Echo. I’ll lay down cover and keep searching.”
Echo returned your nod before he attended to the first explosive. You stayed close, but kept your blaster raised and studied the closest buildings you could for more. There were none you could see, and you didn’t know whether that relieved you or worried you.
It wasn’t long before Echo joined you again. “That’s one down,” he assured you. “Have you seen any others?”
“Not yet.” You grimaced as you turned a corner. “Assuming I haven’t missed any.”
“Trust your eyes, Senator.” Echo’s encouragement was a comfort you needed. “We don’t have time to double check.”
You nodded, focusing back on your surroundings. It was a delicate balance of staying quiet, moving fast, and checking every single thing your eyes touched—all while trying to evade enemies you couldn’t even see. Echo found a second, and while he disarmed that, you heard Crosshair over the comms again.
“Hunter, Wrecker, watch your six. Hostiles are about to round the corner.”
You bit your cheek in worry for them. The last thing you wanted was to have to actually stun anyone. It would be a whole lot more covert if you and the squad were able to get in and leave without any signs of detection, and an unconscious fighter would be the least helpful way to achieve that.
“Five minutes,” Tech warned.
Your chest was burning at the fast pace of your heartbeat as Echo finished disarming. You pushed onward, soon finding a third to Echo to work on. Your voice was a whisper as you spoke to the ARC trooper. “Where the hell did they get all these explosives from?”
“If the Separatists are backing them, then I’d expect they’d have a pretty endless supply.” Echo managed to answer even as he attended to the explosive.
You shook your head. “That’s who they really want in control of our homeworld.” The thought alone made you sick. “People who give them the resources to destroy our villages.”
“Sometimes, people lose sight of what they’re actually fighting for.” Echo provided the wise words as he finished. “It’ll never be enough for them.” He gestured with his helmet to the way ahead. “Let’s keep moving.”
You quickened your pace even as you remained attentive to every single thing you passed. You heard nothing more from Hunter and Wrecker, which hopefully meant that they averted the hostiles on their own. Echo was working on his fourth when you heard footsteps. Your grip around your blaster tightened. “Echo, we’re about to have some company.”
He lifted his free hand to the side of his helmet. “Crosshair—.”
He was too late. Two figures turned the corner, and you hesitated on the trigger for only a moment. It was the right call.
Hunter and Wrecker lowered their blasters before they jogged over to you. “We finally caught up to you,” Hunter said, his voice breathless as he looked between you and Echo. “How’d it go?”
“Assuming you searched everywhere else,” Echo started, “then this is the last one.”
“Three minutes.” Tech’s voice was as even as ever as he delivered the update. “At this time, I would recommend retreating back to the forest, in the event that there are any you missed.”
“I agree,” Hunter responded. “Echo, once you’re done, we’re heading out.”
“Shouldn’t we do a quick sweep before we go?” You couldn’t help speaking up on behalf of your people. “Respectfully, Sergeant, I don’t want to take the chance that any more of my people are hurt tonight. I’ll do it myself if I have to.”
Hunter’s shoulders rose and fell in consideration, and he tilted his helmet before he responded. “You don’t have to do it alone. I’ll stay with you.” He looked at Echo as the ARC trooper finished with the last explosive. “Echo, Wrecker, head back to cover. The senator and I will be right behind you.”
You would have smiled if the stakes weren’t so high. Wrecker and Echo shared a look before they nodded, with Echo’s hand patting your shoulder as he and Wrecker headed for the trees. You and Hunter began to backtrack the way you came as you offered him a quick glance. “Are you sensing anything?”
“Not yet.” Hunter’s steps began to slow. “At least, not explosives.” He began to turn his helmet over his shoulder. You followed the movement, holding tight to your blaster—but as you did so, you spotted something else.
It only took a split second for you to raise your blaster over Hunter’s shoulder and pull the trigger. One of the attackers hit the ground as you stunned them, causing Hunter’s helmet to whip in that direction. He knew exactly where to aim as he stunned the other one he had sensed behind him.
Hunter lifted his fingers to his helmet. “We’ve been spotted. Tech, monitor comms. Until then, Plan Double Zero.”
You furrowed your brow. “What does that entail?”
Hunter kept his voice low as the two of you began to pick up your pace once again. “Radio silence. I’m not taking the chance that we’re gonna be heard.” You nodded at that, allowing him to go on. “We’ll make contact once we know it’s safe.”
Just as you were about to turn your last corner, a shot rang out from that direction. You and Hunter both rolled to evade their fire, making it behind the cover of a building as you prepared to retaliate. Hunter’s body was shielding you from the direction of their fire, but they still had the open ground. He emerged a few times to shoot, but he hadn’t yet landed any shots.
“We’re pinned down.” Hunter somehow continued to sound calm even as he presented the dire reality of your situation. It began to make more sense as he reached for something on his belt. “I have an idea. When I tell you to run, you run as fast as you can, and you shoot if you see anyone in your path. Okay?”
You nodded. “Okay.”
Hunter returned your nod and faced the corner of the building again. He then pressed the button on the item in his hand and rolled it along the ground. It made a sound akin to that of a small explosion, and you saw the smoke that started to cloud the area just before Hunter gave the order. “Run!”
You both rose from your feet at the same time, and you kept him in front of you as you ran. The smoke bomb made it hard to see where you were going, but Hunter guided your path, the circles of his stun shots illuminating the space even more as he finally took down the hostiles in your path. For a moment, you could breathe in relief.
Then, you saw something else flashing in the smoke, a light that only got more and more rapid.
“Sergeant!” You cried out, causing his helmet to whip around. “We didn’t get them all!”
His visor stopped on something behind you, and he lunged in your direction. Hunter’s arms wrapped around you as he swung you in front of him and acted as your shield. All you could hear was a single blaster shot ringing out before the explosion dominated every other sense.
You hadn’t even remembered flying through the air or hitting the ground. The next thing you knew, there were two hands on the side of your face, which was no longer covered by your mask. You blinked your eyes open as best as you could, though the smoke and ash made them burn. You inhaled and instantly began to cough.
That’s when the helmet was placed over your head. The filter inside of it facilitated your breathing, and in just a few long seconds, you were able to get a grip on your senses once again. You sat up on your elbows as the hands that were on your face moved to your shoulders, and even though it was quite the adjustment getting used to the view through the sergeant’s visor, you could see Hunter kneeling over you.
“There you go.” Hunter’s worried eyes were giving you a once-over. “Are you okay?”
You let out a groan as you sat up more. “Yeah, I’m fine.” You rolled your neck. “Just winded.”
Hunter nodded in relief. “Good.”
You smiled, believing him to be in the same condition as you, but that quickly faded when his eyelids began to flutter. Your brow furrowed as you snapped back into action, your hands now finding his shoulders as you assessed him. “Sergeant? What is it?”
You didn’t receive an answer. Hunter’s head hung low before he keeled over, landing on his side. Your heart leaped into your throat as you rose to your knees and held the side of his face.
“Hunter? Hunter?!” You tapped his cheek, but he didn’t wake. You cursed and observed him more closely, and that’s all it took to notice the scarlet on his left side.
It was then that you remembered the blaster shot you had heard before the blast. The shot was what Hunter was actually protecting you from, and part of it had clipped him badly enough to start bleeding him out.
You swallowed down a panicked gasp and leapt into action. The radio silence kept you from calling the squad for help, but you refused to wait for them, anyway. You would do it on your own.
For a moment, you observed where you were. The blast had at least knocked you both closer to the woods, and it was an area that was even more familiar than where you had been before. There was a hidden base from your freedom fighting days on this side of the village’s forest, and if you were lucky, it would still be completely abandoned.
The only challenge would be getting Hunter’s deadweight there.
Stars, give me strength. You rose to your feet and removed Hunter’s helmet from your head, placing it over his own to protect him. You hooked your arms around Hunter’s shoulders and pulled up, grunting as you used all your strength to do so. The adrenaline made you a hell of a lot stronger as you started to drag Hunter away from the heavy smoke and flames.
As you made your way to the secret base, your strength began to wither more and more, but you refused to stop. Hunter had sacrificed himself to save you from both a lethal bolt and an explosion, and you were going to give him that same effort right back. That wound could bleed him out if it wasn’t treated soon, and you weren’t going to let that happen.
You allowed yourself only a few breaks before you finally saw the outline of the old base. Thankfully, it was completely unattended, which likely meant the attackers of this village weren’t any of the fighters you were familiar with. You groaned with each movement as you heaved yourself and Hunter inside the rickety shelter, one that blended in well enough with the surrounding nature to keep the two of you secure for a while.
You propped Hunter up along the farthest wall and removed his pack from his back. Taking his torch and your own, you set them up to illuminate the dark space for you to see. You removed Hunter’s helmet and grimaced at the way his head hung in unconsciousness. Your hand cupped his cheek.
“I wish I could ask your permission, Sergeant,” you spoke to the open air. “But I have to save your life.”
You wasted no more time removing his poncho and the pieces of armor on his upper body, attempting to give yourself better access to his side. Once they were removed, you lifted the top half of his blacks, pulling the material over his head and tossing it aside with the rest. There would have been quite a sight to see if you weren’t so tunnel-visioned on the bleeding wound in his side.
Like any good leader, Hunter had a fully equipped medpac in his pack, and you broke it open to start attending to the wound. Your hands were precise even as they trembled, cleaning the wound and pressing on it to stop the bleeding the best you could. After a few minutes of pressure, you reached for the treatments, disinfecting the wound and coating it in at least three generous layers of bacta. The last touch was a bacta patch that you secured in place with a wrap.
It was only then you exhaled, knowing that your part was done. All you could do now was wait for him to wake.
You calmed your nerves by keeping yourself busy. The contents of Hunter’s pack also included emergency food and water, and you held on to the latter along with a dose of pain medication. It was in the midst of this careful organization that you finally heard Hunter stir.
The sergeant groaned as he attempted to push himself off the wall. You were quick to sit up more and set a hand on his bare shoulder, urging him back against the wall. “Easy, Sergeant.” You met his worried gaze and nodded. “It’s okay. You’re safe now.”
Hunter tried to exhale a relieved breath, but he cut himself off with a tight growl as it tugged on his sensitive wound. “That’s not what I was worried about,” he confessed through gritted teeth.
You smiled and shook your head. “I’m fine. You, on the other hand…” you let the panic of all these events show for only a moment in your trembling voice, “you had a close call.”
Hunter’s gaze softened at you before it lowered to his patched up side. “I’ve had worse.” His brow furrowed as he looked up at you again. “How did we get here?” Hunter’s curious eyes observed your surroundings. “Where even are we?”
“It’s an old base. No one else will know about it.” You raised an eyebrow. “If they did, they’d be making use of it.” You gestured with your head to the entrance somewhere behind you. “I brought you here.”
Hunter’s eyes widened. “By yourself?”
You huffed. “I’m stronger than you think, Sergeant. Remember what I said before?” You ran your thumb over his shoulder. “I’m full of surprises.”
The corners of Hunter’s lips began to rise as he lifted his brow. “You really are, Senator.”
You returned his smile, though it started to fade as you focused on the hand you still had on his bare shoulder. You pulled it away and looked down as shyness overtook you. “I’m sorry I couldn’t ask your permission to… access your wound.”
Hunter’s hand found your chin just as it had earlier that morning, tilting your head up until your gaze met his again. His eyes sparkled at you even in the darkness of the base. “You don’t have to apologize for saving my life.”
You chuckled and raised your brow. “You saved mine first.”
Hunter shrugged, wincing at the movement. “I guess that makes us even.” He lowered his hand from your chin as he attempted to push himself up more.
You watched him with a careful eye before reaching for the water and pain relief. “Here.” You handed them off to him. “You’ll need this.”
Hunter smiled as he took them from you. “Thank you.” He took the medicine and swallowed it down, and you had to look away to fight the way the action flustered you for no good reason. As he set the water aside, he approached a new subject. “Where’s the squad?”
You sighed and shook your head. “Don’t know. We’re still radio silent.”
Hunter’s brow rose. “Still?”
You nodded. “Tech hasn’t said anything. The area must not be secure yet.”
Hunter’s gaze looked beyond you for a moment, no doubt focusing on the entrance to the base. “We have to get back to them.”
He started to sit up again, and you set a hand on his shoulder again. “Not in your condition. You have to rest more.”
Hunter furrowed his brow. “They could be knee-deep in combat right now. I can’t let them fight alone.”
You wanted to soften for him, but your concern wouldn’t allow it. “They can handle themselves, and you know that. They would want you to take care of yourself if they knew you were hurt.”
Hunter didn’t let up. “I’m not abandoning my squad.”
You exhaled a curt breath. “You won’t be helping anyone if you rush into a fight in this condition.”
When Hunter gently eased your hand off his shoulder and began to sit up more, you set both your hands firmly upon his chest, moving your body in front of him to act as a wall that kept him from pushing forward more.
Your voice left no room for argument as you gave the order. “You need to rest, Sergeant.”
Hunter’s stare never left yours as he responded. “I can’t rest when I’m this close to you, Senator.”
His words took you aback in a way you hadn’t expected. Your breath caught in your throat as you, too, observed how close the two of you had gotten. Your gaze fell to your hands, watching the way his scarred chest rose and fell in steady breaths underneath your palms. Your right hand was close enough to his heart to feel the way it raced, moving at nearly the same quick pace as your own.
And there it was again, the touch on your chin that urged you to drown in the depths of Hunter’s gaze. Everything shifted as the previous frustration you both held was exchanged for another, one that had been simmering between the two of you from the moment he first kissed your hand on Coruscant.
The invitation was there again. Hunter didn’t move, but he gave you the freedom to. This time, you didn’t weigh yourself down with the what-ifs, as Echo’s words and reassurances from before rang through the back of your mind instead. You moved closer to Hunter until his nose brushed yours, drawing a quiet, anticipatory breath from your lungs.
Even then, Hunter didn’t move. The choice was all yours. And this time, you were going to make the right one.
Your lips slotted over his in a way that felt natural, albeit still quite shy. You tested the waters as you breathed into him once, staying close enough to keep his nose against yours as you pulled away. He had given you the first choice, and you were giving him the second.
You wanted him to want it as badly as you did, and you wanted so much more. Thankfully, he did too.
Hunter’s hand slid from your jaw to the back of your neck, pulling your mouth back to his with the same desperation and desire that had been forcing deep down inside yourself. The shyness had all but vanished as your lips molded together, moving in perfect sync as your exploration of one another deepened. You raised a hand to the back of his hair as his free hand ran over the back of your leg, encouraging you to take your place upon him.
The moment his tongue pushed through, you lost any last shred of control you had, tightening your grasp on his locks as the fingernails on your other hand grazed over the skin of his chest. His hand on your thigh tightened and drew a pleased sigh from you that you released into him. There wasn’t a chance you were separating from him, not yet—and if you had it your way, not ever.
But Hunter had other ideas. He broke away only to lower his face to your neck, praising the sensitive skin there in a way you had never felt before. Your eyelids fluttered as you fought for some shred of sanity, but you couldn’t keep quiet. Your hand found his upper arm, and you gave it a squeeze to ground yourself as you practically cried out. “Hunter…”
It was the pleased hum against your neck that truly stole your last breath. You couldn’t take another moment apart, no matter how good this felt. The hand in his hair urged him back, and as soon as you had access, your mouth and your tongue were his yet again.
There was no conceiving how long this went on, and it didn’t matter. Nothing did, not as long as you were connected to him in this way. The adrenaline of everything that had happened was creating a dangerous mixture with the affection and desire that had long since been left unaddressed, and it was too addictive for either one of you to ignore.
Until the comm on your belt began to chime.
“Comms are clear,” Tech announced. “So is the area, as far as Crosshair and I can tell.”
You and Hunter broke apart, lips lingering as his mouth kept your upper lip captured in sweet surrender. You shared panting breaths in the air between you as your gazes met one another. It was hard to make sense of anything when all you could feel and taste was him.
But you could still tell Echo’s voice was worried even through the haze of your stolen moment with Hunter. “Does anyone have eyes on Hunter and the senator? Wrecker and I aren’t finding anything.”
The moment was over, and you would both have to face it. You continued to stare at Hunter even as you unclipped the comm from your belt and activated it. “We’re here. We took shelter until we knew it was safe. We’ll rendezvous at Crosshair and Tech’s position.”
Echo couldn’t hide his relief as he replied. “Glad to hear it, Senator.”
You put your comm back and released a sigh. Rather than looking at Hunter again, you focused on the pile of his armor at your side. As leaders, it was time to focus back on your people. He would understand that just as he had understood everything else. “Time to suit back up, Sergeant.”
Hunter nodded in your periphery to agree with you. Though he reached for the pile with a tight growl, you gently pushed his hand away, instead doing much of the work for him as you started with the upper half of his blacks. Silence sat between the two of you as he re-suited, but you weren’t sure what to make of it. You were both too far inside your own minds to really think about it.
His helmet was the last thing you secured in place for him, and you held it between your hands for a moment as your gaze studied his visor. This was something that would have to be discussed later. For now, he had to focus on his squad, just as he had let you focus on your own people before.
You stood and helped Hunter to do the same. He grunted at the movement, and you ducked low to swing his arm over your shoulders. You had already picked up both your torches and helped Hunter with his pack, and one last sweep of the base confirmed you had left nothing behind.
Nothing but the unspoken truth of what you had done, the remnants of which continued to linger on your mind, heart, and mouth with a sweet vengeance that was no doubt only going to make things even more difficult than they already were.
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chapter 3 ⟸ series masterlist ⟹ chapter 5
hunter tag list: @zenrobbins0021 @cw80831 @yunggoblin @maddiedrmr @Molmcb
senator’s shadow tag list: @violetlilly2020 @jellybeanstacey0519
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biscuityskies · 6 days ago
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Last line challenge
I was uno reverse tagged by @bluemaskedkarma for the last line challenge, and I’ve got something that I’m excited to share!!
This is once again from pinch points (god only knows if I’ll be writing anything else until the bingo event)
Cody laughs then, something unnameable alight in his expression. “Shore leave is different from combat, in my experience. Something about how you’re a little less likely to die.”
“Not necessarily true,” Obi-Wan counters, purely to be difficult and play Sith Lord’s advocate, and certainly not to extend this quiet moment with his commander… his Cody. “Strange things can happen on shore leave. Everyone has allergies. You eat something you’re allergic to and then suddenly you’re going into anaphylaxis.”
Cody shakes his head, snorting. “You’re terrible and ridiculous. Clones don’t have allergies.”
“Clones are people too, surely you’re allergic to something.”
The air in the room becomes charged with enough electricity to kill a bantha.
Cody blinks at him, eyes wide. He turns back to the holotable and spins the map of Felucia, zooms in on where they know a settlement to be. “Rex said he met a farmer on Saleucami. We’re coming to the end of the war, Obi-Wan, I can feel it.” His voice betrays him, unsteady and wavering, despite how he clears his throat against it.
“Cody, did I say something—”
“If we end the war, and clones are seen as people, I want the boys to have a good life. A life they’re proud of. A life they choose, not one chosen for them.” He finally turns back to Obi-Wan, brow furrowed and chewing on the inside of his lip. “I want them to see that they have options, like being a farmer. Or an engineer. Something they can put their mind to, or their back into, and exist as people. Not as property.”
Here’s a No, You tag back to @bluemaskedkarma, and then no pressure tags to @plo-koons-favorite-padawan @c-c2224 @lttrsfrmlnrrgby @raphaerolo and anyone else who has smth to share!!
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pandorafallz · 2 months ago
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YOu know what i do enjoy when on FOP, following around NPCs for their dialogue but also their NPC routes and routines.
In the Kinglor Forest HQ, Alma, for example, tends to be at four different spots and always downstairs, but it's fun when you find a 5th, and she takes a trip upstairs. I've played well over 935 hrs and she's only moved and sat upstairs that once with me!!
My sister found Ri'nela taking the exact same route and sitting as Alma does (bc of the rig's animation/position for this NPC spot).
yes, i have a ton of screencaps of Alma but that's mostly for my fic banners but the unique ones like these make me happy :)
I do these with some other characters as well, like Nefkia who wanders, plays instruments and eats (I've yet to see her play an instrument but my sister found her doing that)
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ALso, i enjoy the fact the NPCs sometimes share the same animation/rig lol. So'lek and Alma both bend down over the holotable and move in sync. They do that a lot, tbh.
I'm hoping to catch So'lek going up stairs once but i doubt he'll ever cross paths into that route given he's a merchant NPC and typically stays in one spot for trades.
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moodymisty · 8 months ago
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Hi, I’d like to request a (nsfw) Perturabo x reader where you’re about to have sex with him, but you’re slowly realising from the way he’s anxiously going about it that he’s never had sex before. Perturabo knows, anatomically speaking, where the clit is, but he’s probably got no clue on what to do with it. (Also he’s probably trying so hard not to be an ass about it but he’s anxious and you’re so pretty and eager and what if he disappoints you and what if you call his sexual ability subpar and what if-) (he’s nervous. Basically)
I just feel like we often forget that a good number of the primarchs haven’t had sex before, which in my opinion could have some interesting implications in terms of x readers. Especially considering who they are and the possible stigmas around sex that they could have learned while on their various planets
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[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]
A soft sequel to this request
Author’s note: I always jokingly quote Bricky when I say Perty is an Incel, so it’s nice I get to defeat the meme. Makes sense that most of the Primarchs probably wouldn’t indulge in such a thing at least often though, physical issues aside most humans tended to treat them like they were above them, which would probably be frustrating.
Anyways, I made sure to stay as close to your prompt as I could with Perturabo. I imagine he would NEVER let anyone see he wasn't a master at something, sex included. But don't worry, he worries internally plenty for you to enjoy I hope.
Summary: Perturabo returns to his new beloved, and indulges in an act he once deemed pointless.
Relationships: Perturabo/Fem!Reader
Warnings: NSFW, Massive size kink, Perturabo is a little awkward but he tries to hide it, The creampie to end all creampies, A teeny bit of choking kink if you squint, Like 80% smut
Word Count: 2739 ...oops?
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“Lord Perturabo?”
Hearing his name, he looks up to see a fresh faced Iron Warrior looking at him between two other of his elders. He hums as a response that he heard them, but that only seems to confuse him further.
“Should I repeat myself?”
Perturabo had hoped the three would take his disinterest in the matter as a tell for that they should continue their current plan, but he suppose they need his verbal approval on the matter.
“No. Take whatever tech priests aren’t already working on the issue and have them assist. I expect this to not be a problem for much longer.”
Throne knows we shouldn’t be waylaid for much longer.
The fact that they even had an engine issue to begin with upset the primarch immensely, but he’s been holding his tongue while it’s fixed. His legion has done nothing but aggravate him this entire mission, even more so than usual.
The three Iron Warriors nod and leave to follow his orders, and let Perturabo enjoy the room in silence once again. Apart from the hum of machinery and the buzz of a projection on the holotable, the room is finally quiet enough for him.
With a soft grunt of exertion he leans forward and places his hands against the edge of the massive table, and shifts uncomfortably in his armor as the issue that had distracted him previous makes itself known once again. It arguably aggravates him even more than this entire waylaid issue has been, his gauntlets gripping the table's edge tight enough that he feels it give way and crumbles underneath his hands.
Perturabo has never had such thoughts of sex take over so much of his head before. Especially ones that were unsolvable on his own, and lingered like some sort of infection.
If rarely the desire struck him and kept distracting him he could take a moment to himself, angrily yank himself to completion in the quiet of his own quarters- usually at his desk- before returning to his work, distraction quelled. It was transactional, just a bodily need to be dealt with before moving along.
But that hasn’t worked this time. He’s already tried and you still occupy his mind- still distracting him. It's all your fault, he should've never allowed you to get your nails into him this deep, deep enough that he can't tear them free.
He’s never felt this way before. He’s never felt any real desire to actually bring another person into his bed; If he needed that sort of release, he did it himself. To touch another, desire another, is new to him.
He knows you're soft, but how soft will you feel in his hands? Not just your own hand, but your entire body? He's never touched a woman before, had no reason to add another variable into his life that would largely serve to only distract him.
He wishes he could just rip all this armor off. He won't, but it's aggravating that now he's distracted enough to find it all inconvenient.
Once they repair the Iron Blood they can return to Olympia. Then he can see you and finally relieve himself of the stress you've put him under, scolding you for things you had no control over.
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Unlike the days earlier when you were still working on his puzzle boxes, your workload now is significantly reduced. You mostly clean Perturabo's workshop and most personal quarters now, partly to keep yourself busy, and because he doesn't wish there to be anyone in there he doesn't trust.
He would have someone else he didn't despise to do it if you got bored of the work, the only reason he hasn't is because you seem to do it to keep your mind busy; Especially now that he was gone. He understands the feeling. He too hates it if his mind wanders too far off the path, hence why his workshop is so filled with random things he made when he felt himself drifting.
You enter the workshop and with significant effort close the heavy door behind you, before walking closer to him. He sits at his main workbench, a few partly rolled up plans the only thing in front of him of note. His shirt is rolled up at the sleeves, showing the scars on his arms hands as he leaned them on the table.
"How did it go?"
You say to him with a cautious look. You more than likely know that the Iron Blood was waylaid for a decent while, and you know faulty machinery is a core trigger for his mood to go quickly sour.
"I struggle to imagine a way it could have gone worse." He says with a monotone voice and blunt expression, which makes your lips purse- though before you can come up with a response he speaks again.
"Come here."
He gestures with one motion of his hand, and you walk closer up until you're standing right beside his chair.
It's still a bit surprising when he picks you up however; He's done it before, though the feeling of being lifted off the ground so easily is not a feeling done away with easily. He sits you onto his lap and you ignore the odd feeling in your chest about having been moved around so easily by him, looking down to see his thighs wider than your hips by a significant degree. Your legs dangle unable to touch the ground at this height; You look so small.
Leaning forward you pull some of the scattered blueprints closer to you, looking at them curiously.
"What are these for?"
Perturabo decides to placate at least one of your questions and ignore the ache between his legs for a moment longer.
"Drafts for the auto-targeting orbital defense cannons."
You hum and look at them, fingers brushing over the parchment. Perturabo watches as you lean forward, accentuating the curve of your spine and hips; Even with how light you are, he can also feel the way you soft thighs and ass press against him. He doesn't placate your questions any longer.
“Take it off.”
You’re clearly confused for a moment, taking your eyes away from his plans to look around.
“What? What do you mean?” You utter, before your body tenses as you feel his massive hand grip your waist.
“Take off your clothes.” Your hands suddenly begin to fumble with your dress, shaking. Perturabo settles to quicken the process forgo removing your dress, and simply push up the hem and tear off your underwear instead.
His hand wraps around your thigh easily, swallowing it in the massive expanse of his palm. His index finger slides between the crease at the very top of your thigh, and the closeness puts your lip between your teeth as your thighs instinctively move to close.
But the entire time his hand is less so teasing and more so, explorative. He has no destination in mind, and only lingers if he hears or feels you react to his touch.
He doesn't know how to touch you beyond the simplistic, what makes you sing. He'll learn silently, his pride would never allow him not to.
Pulling it away he moves his hand underneath you, yanking at his trousers. You hold his forearm for support until you see him finally free his cock, and it lays between your legs. You can just barely grind against it at this angle; but your bigger concern is its size.
Perturabo notices it too, but refuses to vocalize such a concern to you. He’ll make it work, he has too. He’s not sure if he would be able to survive if he couldn’t fuck you the way he’s been fruitlessly imagining to the point of being aggravatingly pent up.
His hand pushes between your legs, sliding against your folds and using his thick fingers to push them apart. You clench your teeth and lean back against his chest, feeling as he slips one of his fingers inside of you. Your sitting angle forces him to curl his finger in order to slip it into you fully he quickly realizes, grasping onto his arm for support.
He hears you moan, cunt soaking wet as you sit in his lap, leaning against his chest as he teases you. He knows that you won’t be able to take him straight away, not with your difference in size. It doesn’t take much to realize your tiny, tight little cunt wasn’t meant for him.
“Can you take another?” He says, and you think he’s teasing, but you realize he’s asking a genuine question.
Perturabo slowly forces a second finger into you and you cry out as he stretches you further, but the burn quickly fades into a pleasurable ache that has your stomach feeling tight and legs limp and useless.
"I have been waiting since that pathetic excuse of a ship was waylaid," Perturabo hisses between his teeth and feels his nose wrinkle angrily. "You will take me no matter how long we have to sit here." The sounds of your breathless moans are more arousing than he thought possible, making his cock twitch between his own thighs.
“Lord Perturabo?”
Stirred from his trance watching his hand shift between your legs Perturabo turns to glare at the door, the deepness and distorted tone of voice queues him in that it’s one of his Iron Warriors.
“The Iron Blood is repaired, the tech marines wished to show you before officially declaring it fit for duty-“
Perturabo suddenly places his other hand over your mouth, continuing to drive his fingers into your cunt has he yells. The Iron Warrior shouldn't be able to hear the wet sounds of his fingers curling inside of you, but he would be able to hear your incessant mewling.
“I will advise it tomorrow. Now leave me be.”
Your thighs shake, hands pulling at the one he has over your lower face trying to catch a full breath though his palm doesn’t allow you.
“And do not bother me again this evening.”
The Iron Warrior, clearly confused as to Perturabo’s sudden shift in attitude, responds in understanding and quickly takes his leave. Once gone, he finally takes the hand away from your mouth.
“You liked that?” Your watery eyes can’t see his face, only barely through the reflections on the metal in front of you. “I felt your little cunt get tighter.” He pulls his fingers from you and reaches between your legs to grab his cock, shifting himself to press against your entrance. It doesn't take much for him to lift you up slightly and begin to lower yourself onto him, slowly slightly when he hears you gasp.
Even with preparation, it's still a tight fit, he quickly realizes.
As such it's a slow and arduous process to fit himself into you, feeling your nails bite into the skin of his forearms. When your bottom finally hits the fronts of his thighs again, you feel like you're so full that you won't be able to handle it. It settles not long after however, though the feeling of him being almost right into your stomach still prevails.
"Good girl,"
He mutters as your weight rests in his lap; It slipped from his lips unconsciously, but you seem to respond to it. He internally slaps himself for allowing words to tumble out of his mouth without thinking, and steels himself to hold others firmly within his head for the time being.
He raises you up and down on his lap, holding you firmly at the hips. To hold you but not bruise you is a fine line with his strength, though if he is bruising you, you don't seem to mind. Perhaps you don't mind if he's rougher with you. Your smaller hands grip his forearms to steady yourself, or simply to keep yourself feeling grounded.
You look tiny against his massive expanse of a chest, shoulders barely higher than his ribcage.
"Pertura- Bo,"
You stutter out his name, the hot palms of your hands desperately grabbing at him. He's using you almost like a toy, but it's the only way he thinks is safe; He doesn't know the line, how much a body like yours could handle before it breaks. He knows he hasn't reached it yet, your gentle voice cries for him, leaning back against his chest.
He watches your lips part in a pant, and he wishes to kiss them, but resists it. The angle would be impossible, and part of him feels, off about how much larger his mouth is than yours. He feels like he can't do it properly. Perhaps it's lack of practice; You were the first one he's kissed as well.
A lot of firsts, you were. Largely meaningless to him years ago, but now he finds himself caring a bit more.
He's silently thankful when you finally come, sharply inhaling and digging your nails into his skin enough to leave little crescent moon marks. They'll fade in a few moments, he doesn't care. What he does care about is the way you feel like a vice around his cock, his right hand pulls away from your waist, forms a fist and slams the table as his teeth grit together, unable to hold himself back any longer.
You thought your body felt hot before, but it's even more so as you feel him finish inside of you, so much of it that you feel it almost forced out by the size of his cock. It makes a mess on the tops of his thighs, though neither of you care.
He makes no effort to even pull out until your heart isn't audible to him anymore, and when he does, he hears your whine as your well abused cunt flutters at the empty feeling.
Part of him almost wants to get angry with you; He's never bothered with something like sex before but now after this, with you, he can already feeling himself want to get hard and fuck you all over again until you're limp in his lap.
A smarter part of him wishes he'd never done this, never met you, never kissed you, never fucked you. He would've never known what he was missing, and never loose focus.
However that part of his mind looses, when he feels you lie more against the expanse of his chest. He sighs.
"It is late. I will bring you to my quarters and you can sleep there."
He refuses to let you sleep in that tiny room you called home before. For his own selfishness, and your safely. Now that you're becoming so close to him, your safety is a must. Many will find you an easy target.
"My clothes Bo, let me-" You quickly shut your mouth when you realized you hadn't called him by his proper name. He doesn't comment on it.
He picks you up not long after, bringing you to his quarters at a much quicker pace than you could do on your own. A few of his men give him an odd look at having such a disheveled woman in his arms, but it only takes one look in return for them to right their gaze and move along.
"Are you not going to stay?" You say when he plops you onto his massive bed with a gentle toss that makes you smile, and turns to leave.
"Must I?" He says it laced in sarcasm, but he regrets it when he sees the smile he'd just put on your face instantly bleed away.
"I wanted to hear about your plans, for a little bit. It's been so long since the last time."
Perturabo had as of late shown you more of his private plans, many of them war machines. He'd begun talking a bit out loud, and his deep voice talking rumbled in your chest and always made you feel so warm and comfortable.
He enjoys that you just listen. You don't have an ego to protect like he does.
Perturabo steps closer.
"If I do, I expect you to stay awake." You nod and smile. "I'll try." He sits onto the bed, grips your cheeks, and forces you to look up at him gently. Your lips purse from his grip in a way he finds tempting, and he mentally blames you for the distraction once again.
"You will. I'll make sure of it."
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