#oc: june makano

[sleepingsun501]

Sweet True Lies: Chapter 3

Two Truths and a Lie

Paring(s): Fox x OC: Keeda Ionza (FINALLY!)

Characters: F!Reader/OC: Keeda Ionza, OC: June Makano, Commander Fox, Commander Thorn

Summary: Gala time!

Rating: This chapter is G (series is rated E)

Warnings: Light Angst, Fluff, Romantic Fluff

Word Count: 7.2k

Ao3 link

A/N: Hello and welcome to chapter 3! Sorry it took so long to write, but hopefully, it will all be worth it!

There is another new OC I'm bringing into this fic. Her name is June Makano. Check her out here!

Reblogs are greatly appreciated. Enjoy!

Two Truths and a Lie

You gasped as you jerked yourself awake, looking around and briefly wondering where you were. You’re in your old room. Relax. You’re okay. you told yourself as you got your bearings.

An annoyed meow came from the black-striped lump of tan fur next to your feet as you reached over and grabbed the remote on your nightstand, reducing the dark opaque tint of your windows to let in the morning light. “Sorry, Chuffs,” you apologized to your mother’s lazy tooka cat.

You squeezed your eyes shut against the harsh light bouncing off Coruscant's surface, and nestled yourself back into your cloudy pillows, not quite ready to leave the warmth of your large bed. Chuffs stood up briefly and stretched languidly as the light reached her, giving you a curious look before settling back down in her warm spot with a purr.

Scrunching your fingers through your tangled hair as you took in the morning, your thoughts wandered back to the dream you had been having. It had not been unpleasant—quite the opposite: Someone’s strong arms had pulled you close with whispers of reassurance and safety, enveloping you with so much warmth you could have melted into them.

You mused over it for a moment, twisting a bit to look at your upper arm and wondering why you had such a comforting dream after such a tumultuous night. As you prodded the bruise-free skin to check for any residual soreness, you figured a nightmare would have been more fitting, but none had come.

“Good morning, Mistress Keeda,” N2’s soft, high-pitched, mechanical voice said as he entered your room. He was holding a breakfast tray laden with what looked like muffins, scrambled nuna eggs, sliced shuura fruit, and your favorite tea.

You stretched and yawned before sitting up, realizing absently that you had slept a lot further into the morning than you normally did. “Morning, N2. What’s all this?” you asked, untangling yourself from your blankets and trying not to disturb Chuffs a second time.

“Oh, Mistress Sareel was insistent that you have something to eat before you leave,” N2 replied.

You rubbed your eyes groggily as N2 set the meal down on the bed beside you. Your stomach rumbled loudly as you smelled the fresh, berry-laden muffins and fluffy eggs, remembering how little you had eaten the night before.

Sipping your steaming tea and nibbling a muffin, you pulled your datapad into your lap and skimmed the news as you did every morning. Articles of the army’s latest victories and defeats rerouting trade and travel hyperspace lanes littered your screen, but you found your mind wandering back to your dream. It was fading quickly as you fully woke, but the sense of security of those imaginary arms around you had greatly lessened your anxiety.

“Is there anything you require before I begin the household chores, Mistress Keeda?” N2 asked, carrying your hamper from your bathroom.

“No, thank you, N2. You have done plenty for me already,” you replied, giving the droid a smile. You knew N2 could not actually feel emotions—he was simply programmed to respond—but you had always been polite to him.

As you began eating your breakfast, you sent a quick text comm to June, telling her you would be stopping by to check on the flowers, and you also took the opportunity to recount the details of your previous evening to her. You knew she was working, and therefore could not call you, but you received several long replies full of enraged expletives and exclamations anyway. June had always been hotheaded, but she would have blown off a lot of that steam by the time you arrived if you did not rush.

You took your time in eating and dressing, savoring the morning for once, and sinking back into your thoughts. Nothing about the war had slowed down the charity foundation’s work, but it had physically condensed it to Core Worlds as new battle maps were drawn every day in the Mid and Outer Rims. The charity had also been forced to cut its ties with Separatist worlds, though you knew some of the outposts on those worlds had continued to function without proper funds, manned now only by the very people they had been constructed to help.

With the organization now officially partnering with the GAR, however, the work could continue on Loyalist worlds outside of the Core. You had already received the information about the battalion you would be attached to for the foreseeable future, and you sincerely hoped the clones would accept working with you. Deep down, you had been a little worried they would always see you as an outsider.

An hour later found you stepping out of a taxi and onto a wide, sunny pedestrian walkway. The air was still chilly, but the sun managed to take the bite of the wind away. A long, tall greenhouse stretched down the length of the block before you, made entirely of glass walls and windows—just one of ten identical buildings laid out parallel to each other. A much smaller, older structure sat at the end of the first building, with a glowing sign projected onto the ancient-looking brick that read ‘Makano Greenhouses,’ and you made your way to the door.

The air inside the main shop was warm and damp, and it was like stepping into an entirely different world. The fresh scents of thousands of varieties of flowers, vegetables, fruits, and shrubbery the Makano family had grown for nearly two centuries in their greenhouses all wafted to greet you, spiriting you away from the ecological barrenness of Coruscant. You suspected the shuura fruit you had eaten for breakfast had come from these greenhouses.

Inhaling the perfumy fragrances deeply, you pressed the service button on the front desk, taking the time to admire all the glittering vases, fruit baskets, and pre-arranged flower displays already up for sale.

“Be there in a second, Keeds,” a light feminine voice said, echoing through a speaker. True to her word, a few moments later, a curvy young woman with bright ginger hair and equally bright hazel eyes came jogging in through the shop’s back door. “Fucking hell, girl,” she greeted in typical June fashion, wiping her hands on a rag and pulling you into a tight hug. “You nearly gave me a heart attack this morning with your message. How’re you holding up?”

“Hi, June,” you replied. You hugged her back, glad to see her initial, explosive temper had cooled already. “I’m coping, could’ve been worse,” you added dismissively. The residual anxiety must have still been shining through your expression because June cocked a disbelieving, fiery eyebrow at you.

June Makano was the latest generational owner of her family’s greenhouses and your best friend from your time at university. Although the greenhouses were an incredibly lucrative business over the centuries—being one of the last few remaining places on-world providing food and décor to Coruscant’s upper classes—the Makano family had used them as a cover for less legitimate business for just as long.

Despite your knowledge of this, June had become like a sister to you over the years. It still baffled you to no end how she was always able to know exactly how you felt, reading you like an open book. The way she pursed her lips at you was another classic indicator that she knew you were still not all right, so you huffed out a tired breath and rested against the counter, ignoring it.

“I’m not gonna make you talk about it,” June said quietly, “but you know I’m here if you need to.” She rubbed your arm affectionately, and the gesture warmed you. “You know I can still get Naiyo to deal with him, too, right?”

You chuckled dryly and rolled your eyes. “No, thanks. I don’t want your rum-running twin brother and his gangsters getting themselves into any trouble on my account.”

“The offer stands,” June said in a singsong voice, effectively dropping the subject. “Now, come on, let me show you the flowers for tomorrow.”

June led you through the back door and past the greenhouses to an enormous workshop. It looked equally as ancient as the main shop with all its exposed brick and dark steel rafters. Specialized droids hovered about, arranging several varieties of colorful flowers into garlands, bouquets, and centerpieces for the gala. You recognized some of the larger flower varieties, but there were also tiny, shining white blossoms on wiry vines mixed into the bouquets that were unfamiliar.

“Let your mum know the arrangements will be delivered this afternoon, and I’ll be there personally tonight to make sure they’re set up properly,” June said, taking a bundle of the blossoms and handing them to you. “These would look really pretty in your hair tomorrow.”

The little flowers gave off a delicate, but musky sweet scent, unlike anything you had smelled before. “What are these?” you asked curiously. They were surprisingly resilient, despite being so small.

“They’re a variety of peace blossoms from Naboo,” June explained, lifting the end of a garland into a transport crate. “Your mum asked for those particularly, so I had to use the hydroponic systems and pure light to get them to grow faster. She said it was to represent a quick end to the war with the help of all the relief volunteers.”

“Trust my mum to weave poetic symbolism into everything,” you mumbled, tilting the little flowers in your palm. Their sheen reflected a faint bluish-green hue beneath the milky petals. You heard June pause her work, and from her tone, you could tell she was worried. “You still don’t think I should have volunteered?”

June sighed and shook her shoulder-length orange hair out of its clip to readjust it. “I just don’t want you to get hurt or anything. Just because you’re only going on relief missions doesn’t mean it’s safe, Keeds. You could be attacked at any time.”

“You sound like my mum,” you muttered sardonically. You knew June meant well, but even she knew you had been screaming internally for months from being cooped up on Coruscant. “I’ll be with the troops the whole time. They’ll keep any droids out of my way, and I’m a decent shot myself,” you smirked.

June gave you a reproachful look, but she clipped her hair back up and shrugged. “Just… be careful. You’re my best friend.”

“I know, but you know exactly how badly I need to get off this kriffing planet. I need some fresh air, quite literally a different atmosphere. It’s beautiful here, in its own way, and it’ll always be home, but I need some change.” You stepped a bit closer and lowered your voice a notch, shaking your head, “And you were right before, June. I’m not entirely fine, especially after last night. Getting away right now is the best thing I can do.”

You could tell June was holding back her tears from the way she looked around rapidly and started chewing on her plump, pink bottom lip, so you pulled her into a more solid hug this time, aware that this may be the last chance you got before you shipped out after the gala. “I promise, I’ll be fine. When I get back, I’ll tell you all about it over caf at that greasy little diner you like so much.”

June chuckled, letting a tear escape as she embraced you tightly. “Hey, don’t shit on Dex’s. He’s got the best nerfburgers ever, just admit it.”

You parted afterward with a smile and a quick goodbye, leaving the greenhouses with the peace blossoms in hand. As you glanced down at them, you realized your nails could do with a manicure. Begrudgingly, you knew you needed to polish yourself up. Time to turn into a lady.

***

Tucking his towel around his hips, Fox wiped the steam from his mirror and pulled his razor out from his refresher cabinet. Two of the few benefits of being a Marshal Commander permanently stationed on Triple Zero were private quarters and access to hot water showers. It hardly made up for the multitudes of other issues he dealt with on a daily basis, but it was far better than the communal sonic showers his millions of brothers were forced to use in the field and on starships.

He wished he did not have to shave so soon, rather liking the way his slightly greying stubble always set him apart from his brothers, but he had no choice. He had to be as presentable as possible for the gala in a few hours, and he mentally cursed whichever senator had taken Thire from his post.

Fox resented the way many senators seemed to think the Corries were their personal bodyguards instead of elite clone shock troopers. The boys were constantly called upon, day and night, to escort senators and other public officials to wherever they wanted to go, regardless of the security details they were already provided. Even their underpaid aides were not called upon as often as the Corries were for menial tasks—the moment a senator needed to travel off-world or needed a kriffing lightbulb changed, they rang a Guardsman.

Pushing his dripping curls away from his face, Fox slathered his cheeks and jaw in shaving cream and began methodically scraping away his stubble, careful not to nick himself. He had finally managed to get a few hours of solid sleep after a brutally exhausting workout, and he had taken Thorn’s advice about dabbing some bacta under his eyes. He somehow looked a bit younger as his skin became smooth, and it reminded him of how young he technically was. Physically, he was only about twenty-five now, even if he felt like he was nearly a hundred most days.

Fox carefully eased a clean undershirt over his head, careful not to muss his freshly faded curls that he had slicked back into smooth waves. The ever-present greys in his once jet-black hair had ceased to bother him, especially because they seemed to be a date magnet on the incredibly rare occasions he took to venture out to 79s with his brothers.

He smiled to himself as he pulled on his dress greys, fondly remembering the night Cody and Wolffe had dragged him to the bar with every intention of getting him laid. They had no idea their youngest brother had spent the past year carefully observing the very politicians he loathed, watching their formal, charming interactions and quietly putting them into practice. He had a date within twenty minutes that night, and Cody and Wolffe’s jaws had been on the deck.

Part of his charm, he had learned, came with his expression of intention. Fox had never once led anyone on, making sure an unattached night was all a lady was to expect from him. It was not that he wanted to sleep around or that he did not have feelings, but he knew he had no time for a committed relationship—even if it never stopped him from wondering how nice one would be.

Fox rolled his muscular shoulders in the stiff, heavy fabric of his dress uniform and checked his appearance over one last time. Just another big fancy dinner. he thought to himself, tucking his cover under his arm and echoing Thorn’s words from a few days prior.

***

“You’re fidgeting,” your mother whispered concernedly as you exited the speeder after her.

You gnawed at the inside of your cheek as you looked around. The poshly dressed guests were arriving in droves, greeting each other with both genuine and faux smiles, la bise kisses, and graceful bows. As the gala’s unofficial host, you started to feel the pressure as eyes were beginning to turn toward you. The sickening clench of your stomach was hard to ignore as you slapped a practiced smile on your face. Silently, you resigned yourself to participating in high-class society, and you were sure the gooseflesh breaking out over your skin had nothing to do with the chill in the air.

“Just nerves,” you muttered, shivering slightly, and smoothing out your flowing dark green dress. You were glad you had chosen something with a loose skirt that you could both walk and breathe in as the latter felt rather difficult. Beneath your long hair, you felt your mother’s silk-gloved hand subtly adjust one of the X-crossed straps on your backless gown for you before looping your arm in hers.

“You’ve nothing to worry about tonight, darling. Just try to relax and enjoy yourself,” she said soothingly, ushering you inside and out of the chilly air.

As you made your way closer to the grand doors of the hall, you spied a few clones in their distinct red and white armor cleverly stationed in the shadows, and your nerves calmed a bit. Whereas many of Coruscant’s citizens had come to loathe the ever-present shock troopers, you found their presence to be a comfort, more so now than ever before. You wondered if the commander was among them, but before you could dwell on the thought, your mother was pulling you into the venue.

Her hand soothed along your bare forearm as you made your way into the dazzling hall, and the sight took your breath away. The hall was massive, and the cavernous, arching glass ceiling reflected thousands of fairy lights woven into the garlands and wreaths June had no doubt spent hours setting up.

The air was fragrant from the same little peace blossoms that were nestled in your fashionably twisted hair, and as the only source of light apart from delicate flickering candles on the dining tables, the tiny, softly twinkling lights created a calm ambiance that seemed to warm even the darkest corners of the hall. While you looked around, you noticed a familiar, friendly face illuminated by the glow.

“Oh, my dear, Keeda,” Henya greeted compassionately, coming around a large, ornately set dining table, and taking you into her arms.

You grinned happily for the first time that evening as the tall Twi’lek woman embraced you, and the soft fur of her shawl tickled your nose. “Hello, Auntie,” you replied.

“You look divine tonight. That dress does wonders for your eyes,” she complimented, but Henya’s striking yellow eyes held a trace of guilt as she pulled away. “May I steal her for a moment, Sareel?” she asked, turning to your mother.

“Of course, of course. I will find you later, Keeda,” your mother replied, giving you a quick peck on the cheek.

As your mother began graciously receiving the other guests, Henya took your hands in both of hers, and you could practically feel the emotion rippling off her. Even her long violet lekku were twitching restlessly as she searched for her words.

“You don’t need to apologize for anything, Auntie,” you said before she could speak. “What happened the other night, that’s not your fault.”

Henya sighed heavily, “I am still terribly sorry, my dear. You shouldn’t have had to endure that.” She paused for a moment, looking around before her eyes settled on a rather severe-looking couple taking flutes of dark blue, bubbling wine from a passing server. “I’m even more sorry to say that they would like to speak with you before the evening’s festivities begin.”

The pit in your stomach immediately gave way to a dull numbness that flooded through your limbs. The governor and his wife had come after all, but you were thankful there seemed to be no sign of their son. You breathed deeply, unlocked your knees, and felt your head clear. Might as well get this unpleasantry out of the way.

Striding forward with purpose, your father’s voice whispered in the back of your mind; Opportunity lies in even the most unlikely places. When he had spoken those words to you so long ago, you had not fully understood their meaning. But now, as Henya led you across the room, your sharp mind understood that the governor was about to ask something of you.

“Governor and Missus Gargeli, may I present Miss Keeda Ionza,” Henya said diplomatically.

While Governor Gargeli might have looked unyielding on the outside, his blue eyes were benevolent. His son had clearly inherited his looks from his father, but you refused to let it unnerve you.

“Miss Ionza, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he said authentically as he extended his hand to you.

“The pleasure is mine, Governor.” You shook his hand firmly, conveying your directness.

“It is an esteemed honor to be invited this evening,” he remarked, releasing you to allow you to shake hands with his wife. “Although, I do wish the circumstances of our meeting would have been less precarious,” Gargeli added softly and opened his arm to you. “May I?”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes as you were passed to yet another arm. Did people think you were unable to walk on your own? Despite being on his arm, you steered the governor to a quieter corner of the hall. You waited until you were sure the sharp click of your heels on the tiles was no longer audible to the other guests before pausing beside one of the massive bouquets that matched your hair.

The governor, for all his formal appearance, looked ashamed. “I want you to know that my wife and I do not condone our son’s actions,” Gargeli whispered gravely. “Pettri was brought up to be better than that, and I sincerely apologize for any harm that has befallen you.”

Pettri Gargeli. you finally remembered. That was that fucker’s name.

The governor’s Coruscanti accent was much thicker than your own, and you had to strain a bit to hear him over the growing hum of the other guests and the gentle classical music that was beginning to play. He had your full attention as he continued, “I also wanted to inform you personally that Pettri is no longer living on Coruscant, and he will not be returning. I’ve sent him back to my family’s homeworld, and he will be dealt with in a manner befitting his actions.”

You hid your relief well, only shifting your weight from one hip to the other as you took in the revelation, still surveying the incoming guests nonchalantly. You had been silently dreading seeing Pettri again, even in passing, and the weight of that fear dissipated from your shoulders. “I am grateful for the measures you have taken in resolving the situation, Governor.”

Gargeli tapped a finger on his glass rather anxiously as he scanned the room blankly. “I’m afraid I do have another motive for speaking to you privately this evening, Miss Ionza,” he confessed. He swiftly acquired another flute of bubbling blue wine from a passing attendant and handed it to you as a gesture.

Here we go. you thought, accepting the drink to let him know you were listening, and bracing yourself for his request. You already had an inkling of what it was.

“As you may know, the local elections in my district are not far off.” He paused to clear his throat to emphasize the point he was about to make. “If… rumor was to spread, a scandal such as this involving a member of my immediate family would potentially—”

“—Potentially negatively impact your reelection,” you interrupted gracefully, finally meeting the governor’s eyes again. Although the smile you wore was practiced and demure, your green eyes conveyed your perceptivity. “And if I were to guarantee my silence on the matter, perhaps our agreement could be mutually beneficial.”

An intrigued look crossed Gargeli’s aristocratic face, his thick mustache twitching up in interest. “Name your terms, Miss Ionza.”

Taking a long sip from your glass, you glanced back out across the room trying to look as casual as possible. “The Terreg Ionza Medical Foundation could do more work in your district if you would consider opening more public spaces to our volunteers and providing security,” you said lowly, your throat tightening a fraction as your father’s name passed your lips. “In the past, our volunteers have encountered significant resistance in underprivileged areas, largely due to threats of local gang violence. Not only would it guarantee my silence, but it would also benefit your constituents.”

The governor nodded pensively. “I assure you my campaign already supports the increased street surveillance in my district. I see the Coruscant Guard are here tonight,” he added as he skimmed over the room. “They have been immensely helpful in training new security forces, so any volunteers would be well protected. Perhaps my wife and I will become more regular contributors to the Foundation as well, to ensure their success.”

A wave of triumph surged through your heart as you raised your wine flute in a small toast. Despite how much you hated playing politics, you were rather reluctantly good at it. “To the mutually beneficial work of our organizations.”

“Hear, hear,” Gargeli replied, a formal smile full of admiration and respect for you working its way onto his face.

With a clink of your glasses, the deal was sealed. Gargeli would open his district more fully to the charity’s work, thousands of citizens would benefit from increased medical aid, and the charity would receive yet another new source of funds. All paid for with your silence.

“Please, Governor, enjoy the evening,” you said with a gentle, sweeping motion, effectively excusing yourself.

Gargeli gave you a refined bow before returning to his wife’s side, and you began mingling your way through the crowd. Several people whom you had worked with in the past stopped to chat with you, each offering their views on the latest cooperations with the GAR. Some approved, some did not, and some expressed their admiration for your willingness to volunteer, but each conversation seemed to draw on your energy reserves.

Even after dinner had been served—you were eternally grateful your mother had not chosen that awful seafood dish to be an option—and the dancing had begun, you were finding the evening to be rather tedious. You did your best to conceal it; however, there was only so much you could take.

Over the sounds of clinking glasses and light laughter filling the air, blending with the lilting music now echoing across the hall, you huffed out a weary sigh. You wished you had someone other than politicians and socialites to converse with—just someone who did not want anything from you. From the moment you stepped out of the speeder, tonight had felt more like work than the enjoyable evening you hoped for.

***

Fox froze and his heart stuttered against his ribs.

He knew from the moment he saw her; it was her. His eyes followed her every move as she wove between people, conversing briefly before moving on. They all parted for her, as though she were a goddess among mortals—even more beautiful than he remembered.

“The hell are you looking at, vod?” Thorn asked, noting Fox’s sudden change. His older brother’s heavy brows were nearly knit together, and his scarred lips were parted in an awestruck expression. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Blinking out of his stupor, Fox nodded in the young woman’s direction. “She’s here,” he whispered, almost disbelieving his own words.

Thorn studied the crowd from their secluded spot by the doorway to a large, covered veranda, trying to follow Fox’s eye line. “You’re gonna have to be more specific than that.”

“From th-the other night. She’s… uh… Long, dark hair, with little flowers. Green dress. It’s her,” Fox stammered.

His golden-haired brother looked back out to the crowd a second time, spotting her easily. “Oh, wow,” Thorn breathed. He knew Fox had not lied about her appearance a few days prior, but seeing her for himself, Thorn finally understood why Fox had been so taken with her. He snickered to himself because the Marshal Commander of the Coruscant Guard was currently staring like a love-struck shiny after their first night at 79s. “That’s really her?”

Fox just nodded. He could not look away. She wore a perfect, congenial smile like a mask and carried herself with the grace of a queen, but her closed-off, stiff body language made Fox want to throw himself between her and the rest of the room—if only to shield her again for a moment so she could breathe.

“Well, go talk to her, di’kut!” Thorn laughed, nudging his ori’vod with a sharp elbow. “She looks like she could use better company than these nat-borns.” Fox opened his mouth to protest, but Thorn stopped him. “Go. You’d be shocked to know the boys and I can actually survive without your constant vigilance for a while.”

Seeing her step out another door on the opposite side of the hall and onto the wrap-around veranda, Fox nearly sprinted out the door beside him—no thanks to a playful swat on the ass from Thorn. It felt like his heart was about to jump through his nose as he quickly strode to where she had withdrawn.

Okay… okay… What am I gonna say to her? he rambled internally. Just ask her how she is, yeah? Ask her if she’s all right. No, why would she be all right? It’s only been a few days since… No, no, just tell her… tell her she looks nice. She’d like to hear that. Right? Fuck. Fuck, I did not think this through! Nevertheless, his feet propelled him forward.

Fox had never had any issues talking to women before, so why was he so unexpectedly flustered now? He paused and pressed his back against the cool alabaster wall just before turning the final corner of the building. He straightened his spotless uniform and blew out a long sigh, puffing his cheeks. Pull yourself together, Fox. You’re a kriffing Marshal Commander. You can do this.

***

The muffled silence was a welcome relief as you stepped out of the hall and rested your hands against the sleek railing. The crowds had begun gathering around to watch those waltzing about on the dance floor, and the stronger liquor had begun flowing as a medley of desserts was served, but you had come outside to let Coruscant’s skyline dazzle you for the thousandth time instead.

Letting your eyes drift shut, you tried to savor the quiet moment, and soaked up the soft warmth radiating from the outdoor heater beside you. You could still see the twinkling fairy lights all around you from behind your eyelids, and you watched as they played across your blinded vision. If you had a chaise and a blanket, you would have been content to stay right there until the sun rose.

Tomorrow, there would be no skyline. There would only be the swirling blue and silver streaks of hyperspace, whisking you off to a war-torn world to deliver medical relief supplies, and you were eager for it. Like you had told June, Coruscant would always be home, but you needed to get away for a while.

Your moment was interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps that ceased a few yards behind you and to your left. You half expected to find yet another aristocrat asking you to dance when you opened your eyes, but you were shocked to your very core when you looked over your shoulder.

Him. It was him. The clone commander that had come to your aid.

You felt your eyes widen in surprise as he looked at you. He was clean-shaven now, and his tussled, greying curls had been elegantly styled back, but his honey-gold eyes still glimmered in the lights with the same care and warmth he had shown you just a few nights ago.

“You,” you breathed without thinking. Immediately, you cursed your impropriety and stumbled over your words. “I’m s-sorry. I-I meant—”

The commander cracked a roguish, bright smile, and his mouth pulled a touch more to the right because of the scar on his bottom lip. “It’s you,” he echoed softly, stepping closer. His voice was low and gravelly, and his eyes never left yours. “You look lovely tonight.”

He was trying to put you at ease, and you could not help the little grin that broke over your painted lips. “Thank you,” you replied, and you were powerless to stop the blush creeping up your cheeks. “Truthfully, I’d rather be elsewhere, though.”

“Really?” he asked, tossing his gaze back into the hall for a moment. “Even with all these fine, upstanding people here?” There was the slightest hint of sarcasm in his voice, and you instantly relaxed despite the sudden draft blowing across the veranda.

The commander came to stand beside you, blocking the breeze and looking out over the planet-wide city. Even while leaning down on the railing and without his signature armor, he was still so very tall and broad. His hard muscles filled out his uniform, pulling at the fabric and defining him perfectly. It made you wonder just how strong he was…

“Are you cold?” he asked thoughtfully.

You shook your head faintly as you were pulled out of your thoughts. You felt wholly safe beside him, as though he were an immovable wall protecting you from the chill in the air and from the prying eyes of anyone who dared to look at you the wrong way—just as he did before.

That inkling of guilt suddenly came crawling back. The last time you had seen this man, you had spoken so harshly to him, and you had feared you would never get the chance to apologize. “Commander, I… I never thanked you properly… for the other night,” you said rather sheepishly.

He gave you a slightly puzzled look and shook his head almost imperceptibly, his eyes immediately coming to rest on your face again. “There’s no need to thank me.”

“Yes, there is,” you insisted, gripping the railing. “You and your men helped me. Something much worse might’ve happened if you hadn’t been there, and I shouldn’t have been so coarse.”

“You had every right to be,” he assured. “I’m glad I was there to help you.”

You toyed with a silver ring on your index finger as you carried on, “In any case, it’s no excuse for my behavior. I hope you’ll accept my apology, Commander.”

He turned to face you fully, leaning casually on one elbow and eyeing you charmingly. “I will, on one condition.”

How can he still look so powerful when he’s relaxed like that? you asked yourself, waiting for his request. He had somehow changed the very air around you so quickly that you found yourself letting go of the ache in your chest.

“Tell me your name?”

Whatever he was doing to make you feel so calm was mesmerizing, but you could also tell he was being playful, so you decided to entertain him. You pursed your lips and gave him a cheeky grin. “All right then. Let’s see if you can tell if I’m lying or telling the truth. Have you ever played two truths and a lie?”

“Two truths and a lie?” he asked inquisitively.

You nodded, fidgeting with your ring again. “I’ll tell you three things about myself. If you guess the lie, I have to tell you the truth about the lie. If you guess wrong, it’s your turn.”

The commander cocked a brow at you and smirked. “Very well, ladies first.”

You chewed your lip for a moment in thought, before settling on your lie. “My mother is the chairwoman of the foundation hosting this gala. I had a pet tooka when I was a child. My name… is Alana. Which is the lie?”

The weight of the commander’s gaze was encapsulating. You felt drawn into the depths of those stunning eyes as he analyzed you. He left no inch of your face untouched with his gaze. “Your name isn’t Alana,” he said finally.

“You’re right,” you conceded with a giggle. “My name is Keeda.”

The commander did not say anything for a moment, but his expression noticeably softened. You were not sure he was going to say anything until he muttered a single strange word, one you suspected was not Basic.

“Sorry?” you asked.

“Mesh’la,” he repeated, a little louder the second time. “It’s Mando’a. It means ‘beautiful’.”

You were certain you were bright red with how hard you were blushing. His lips barely moved whenever he spoke, unlike so many others tonight that had tried to woo your attention with overly enunciated accents and pretty words. The true sincerity in his tone rang clear. His voice was so rich, like a lovely bass-baritone note—deep and smooth, matching the darkened gold of his irises. You could practically feel the resonance of it in your ears despite how softly his words were uttered, and you suddenly craved to hear it again.

“Y-your turn, Commander.”

He must have had his answers ready because he spoke without hesitation. “My favorite color is red. My name is Fox. I’m a particularly good dancer.”

You mulled that over. Would he lie about his name, too? you wondered. It seemed logical, but he could also have been trying to throw you off. He had never looked you in the eye at all, though, choosing to focus on the little flowers woven through your hair—undoubtedly the better liar between you.

Laughing lightly as you gave up trying to guess, you settled on his name. “I don’t think your name is Fox.”

He flashed that brilliant white smile again. It contrasted so beautifully against his bronzed skin, and for the first time, you realized that you were more dazzled by the handsome commander in front of you than the skyline you had come out to observe. His smile and eyes were even brighter than any of the lights twinkling around you, and he exuded an affection that quieted any troubles in your mind.

“My name is Fox,” he said truthfully.

“Fox,” you repeated, bowing your head in mock defeat. “You’ve bested me. Where’d you learn to lie so well?”

“You pick up a thing or two when you’re around politicians all—”

As if on cue, he was interrupted as a group of guests came out onto the veranda, laughing boisterously and talking amongst themselves. They were clearly trying to ward off the buzz they had going with the cool night air. Luckily, they wandered away to the other side of the hall, but the door they had opened let a new melody waft outside.

It was a slower tune, but just as grand and orchestral as the others that had been playing all evening. You swayed your weight from one foot to the other, feeling the skirt of your dress flutter around your legs.

It had been so long since you danced. Your thoughts wandered back to the last time your father had helped you push all the furniture out of the way and taught you the steps of several common waltzes in the middle of your living room.

“Dance with me?” Fox asked suddenly, holding out his hand to you.

When did he take his gloves off? “Another truth?” you asked, resting your hand in his palm. His hand was calloused and strong, but his fingers were long and warm as they closed around yours ever so tenderly.

The crowd had thinned a bit for the evening, and you suspected this would be one of the last dances of the night, but you were glad to share it with Fox. You gasped a little when you felt his other hand settle around your lower back beneath your hair. His fingertips felt like fire brushing against your air-cooled bare skin, but you settled into his hold easily as he began guiding you down the length of the veranda. The steps he chose were uncomplicated, but you were impressed with the natural skill he seemed to possess as he swept you down the length of the open space.

“You were definitely telling the truth,” you laughed, enjoying how easily you moved together.

He arched his left arm and twirled you out beneath it before stepping in and sweeping you back into his hold. “I have my brother to thank for that,” Fox admitted, slowing a fraction with the timing of the music.

“Don’t you have a million brothers?” you asked lightheartedly. Fox looked so different from the stoic commander you had first met. A single stray curl had fallen loose on his forehead as he spun you around himself, and he practically beamed at you.

“This one is special. He inherited all the natural dancing talent somehow, so we just copied him. He’s the commander of the 104th battalion.”

You nearly stumbled in surprise, gripping Fox’s burly shoulder for support, but he was quicker and caught you. He gathered you into a spin to let you recover, bringing your body flush to his. The rush of adrenaline you felt as Fox effortlessly lifted you right off your feet made everything a little fuzzy, but he kept you securely in his strong arms. You felt like a star could have exploded between you with the heat of your bodies pressed together, and you would have happily melted into it.

After gently resting you back on your feet, Fox was the first to break the contact—although he seemed incredibly reluctant to do so. But the music still played in the background, so he continued to lead you through the dance.

“I’m assigned to the 104th as their official volunteer,” you said quickly, remembering why you had stumbled in the first place.

Fox chuckled. “You’ll like Wolffe. We grew up together as batchmates. He’s very stubborn and gruff, but he has a good heart.”

“I look forward to meeting him.”

As the music ended, the hall burst into applause. The other dancers and guests began to say their goodbyes, but you simply stood there under the twinkling lights. You panted together from the exertion of the dance as he continued to hold you, and you drank in the woodsy, slightly spicy scent of him mixed with the fragrance of the flowers in your hair.

He was gently brushing the back of your hand with his calloused thumb, and you were about to thank him for the dance, but the commlink on his wrist beeped. Still holding your hand, he released your waist and turned his right wrist over to silence the beeping.

“Ah, forgive me. Duty calls.”

As his fingers brushed over the device, you noticed the knuckles on his right hand were slightly blotched with old bruises, but you put it aside in your mind. “I… I hope I’ll see you again, Fox.”

He grinned down at you and gave your fingers a delicate squeeze. “Me too. Be safe, Keeda. Do whatever Wolffe tells you to do.”

You felt a pang of longing as he released you and turned to join the other Guardsmen waiting in the shadows at the other end of the veranda. How long have they been standing there?

Suddenly, you remembered and called out to him, “Wait, Fox!” He was immediately before you again with a questioning look on his face. “Please, before you go… what’s your favorite color?”

Although he virtually towered over you, Fox took your hand again and bowed slightly, capturing your gaze once more. His lips were warm as he pressed an impossibly soft kiss against the thin skin of your knuckles, and a mixture of shock and delight flooded through your body. Smiling brilliantly at you one last time, he replied, “Green.”

Taglist: @ariadnes-red-thread @twistedstitcher27 @rexxdjarin @wizardofrozz @moodymisty @ellichonkasaurusrex @ttzamara @nekotaetae @misogirl828 @wild-karrde @kaminocasey

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

[ariadnes-red-thread]

Aria!! Ok so for the OC headcanons ask…

I feel like Keeda and Mal would be besties because of their medical backgrounds. While Keeda would give up her medical studies to pursue finance instead, she would be totally supportive of Mal and so proud of her for becoming a medic. I feel like they’d briefly cross paths again as they’re both assigned to the 104th, and Keeda would take up Mal’s mantle as the Wolfpack’s moral support figure when Mal joins the 501st. I think Keeda would always keep Mal up to date on the Wolfpack, making sure she knows Wolffe is being forced to eat and sleep and take care of himself so she won’t worry. And they’d trade stories about all the shenanigans the boys get up to.

June and Mal… dear god two redheads = double trouble 😂😂 they would have so much fun together, and they would definitely come running to each other when they need to vent or need a night out. I also think June would constantly be bringing Mal new plants to have in her apartment, keeping her surrounded by the comforting greenery she knows Mal loves.

YES! I love this. I think Keeda would bring out Mal’s strong, steady side and they would RUN that medbay through any crisis. I could also see, after the transfer, Mal sending Keeda a comm like <Has Wolffe eaten today> and when Keeda reminds him to eat, he promptly tells both her and Mal to fuck off (but he does go get a snack and glass of water).

June and Mal would cause SO MUCH havoc!! They totally would feed off of each other on a night out and I just see Keeda being dragged along on their adventures because she’s afraid to leave them to their own devices 😂 and I love the idea of June bringing Mal plants! I think Mal would love to visit the greenhouse and help out June when she’s on leave ❤️

[rexxdjarin]

Babes you know how much I love Mari, I couldn’t resist this.

Mari and June are so extremely similar, and they would have an absolute ball picking up guys together (at least until Mari meets Rex). They would hype each other up so much and always have each other’s backs. They’ve also both got fiery tempers and are willing to fight anybody who badmouths the clones or their friends.

Keeda and Mari would get along amazingly, too. They would have incredible respect for each other personally and for each other’s work with relief efforts—which would probably often put them in the same circles. And also Keeda would be the one who comes to bail Mari and June out of jail 😅😅

Send Headcanons of Our OCs Relationship

ERIN!!!!!! listen Mari and June are getting drinks from the handsomest hottest lifeforms of all species in the galaxy. They’re getting into fights and taking shots and arguing about Republic politics in bars. They are each others wing women for sure and they’ve slept with their fair share of men…enough to have some crazy stories and lots of experience. They’d be the girls at the bar that turn every head and make the entire night of everyone there. I can’t even begin to explain the crazy adventures they’d get into together. I LOVE their friendship.

Keeda…literally is bringing them space liquid iv the morning after and making sure they’ve been taking their contraceptives and visiting the appropriate doctors to make sure they’re all healthy and what not. She respects Mari’s work the same way Mari respects hers and she’d totally be pulling to her to get the next open spot on the Human Rights Committee with Padmé or Bail. I think Keeda would be her mom friend 💙

[wild-karrde]

Sliding in with another rec, this time for the newest addition to @sleepingsun501 'Sweet True Lies' series, Chp 3: The Prices of Service

I already gave Erin an unhinged ramble in the reblog, so I'll try to control myself a bit better here lmao

I'm absolutely in love with how Erin writes Fox. I feel like she really shows how selfless and caring he really is under his whole tough exterior. He genuinely loves his brothers and would do anything for them, and Erin really get that point across beautifully.

Plus Keeda is an amazing character that I already love and am fully invested in!! It's a definite must read💙💙

I WELCOME YOUR RAMBLINGS! I haven't gotten to read this chapter yet, but I am VERY EXCITED TO for all of the reasons you mentioned. I absolutely am in love with how Erin writes Fox. He's such a great leader, but also absolutely has his moments where he's going to go to bat for those more vulnerable. He's just wonderful and soft and the way he yearns is EVERYTHING TO MEEEE. And I hoover up every crumb about Keeda because she is just such a wonderful OC, and getting to know her more and more with every chapter has been SO GREAT. Thanks so much for rec'ing this!

Participate in Fandom Friday to show your favorite creators from this week some love! :)

[sleepingsun501]

✨OC TAG GAME✨

Describe your OC (if you have multiple, as many as you want) in ten words. No explanation. Just ten words. Then tag yo friends with OCs so they can play too!

Thank you for the tags @daimyosprincess and @rexxdjarin!! 💙💙

Keeda Ionza

Intelligent

Strong

Capable

Empathetic

Cunning

Hardworking

Confident

Generous

Loving

Brave

June Makano

Fiery

Friendly

Compassionate

Spunky

Stubborn

Bratty

Generous

Protective

Sassy

Playful

NPTs: @ner-runi @writingbylee @writteninthesw @wild-karrde @cyarbika @ariadnes-red-thread and anybody else who wants to scream about their OCs!!

[sleepingsun501]

Here is another OC I have created for my fic Sweet True Lies! She will feature prominently in future chapters.

Meet June Makano.

[sleepingsun501]

Ooooooof @book-of-baba-fett that one hit me in the feels 🥺🥺 thank you for the tag tho babes!!

Here’s a little snippet of a future chapter of Sweet True Lies that I’ve had rolling around in my head forever. It’s from my OC June’s pov. Not sure if I’ll keep it or not, so potential spoilers below:

You stepped out into the wet mugginess of the evening, locking the shop doors behind you with a little more force than necessary. The earlier thunderstorms that had perfectly reflected your attitude toward your brother had finally dispersed, seeming to take your anger with them. The resulting sunset was breathtaking, so you stopped to admire the lovely oranges and dark purples through the tall skyscrapers.

You breathed the humid air deeply, just content to watch the colors and clouds drift, siphoning away your temper. If your brother wanted to do something stupid, who were you to stop him? You were not your grandmother.

The moment of peace was rudely interrupted by a few stray drops of rain that dripped from the doorway and landed coldly on your head. You cringed and shuddered, wiping them away quickly before securing your hood over your hair and beginning your walk home.

The walk to your apartment was not far, but it was a bit longer than you’d normally want to walk. Still, the evening was warm and you knew you would feel better after walking. You could already imagine the gloriously hot shower you were going to take when you got home, and the bantha stew you had simmering in your slow cooker all day.

As you turned a corner, you blinked against the vibrant orange light streaming between the buildings. You could just make out a hunched figure sitting on a bench beside your path a ways away, and as you neared, you realized it was a clone trooper.

They were usually all large and imposing figures, like Fox and the Corries, but this man was sitting with his elbows resting on his knees, head bowed, and twirling something between his fingers. He must have been having a bad day, because even from a distance you could practically feel his melancholy.

The shadowed half of his white armor was hard to make out against the light, but as you got closer you could see the dark grey patterns. A few steps closer, you could see the cybernetic white of his right eye, still fixated on the object in his hands—a Chandrilan fire lily. It was the other commander that Fox had introduced you to earlier that day. It was Wolffe.

NPTs: @rexxdjarin @twistedstitcher27 @fett-djarin @writingbylee @samspenandsword

I'm gonna start a tag game! I did a couple of these last year and I'm gonna start a new one.

(I'm also gonna start to answer some of the games I've been tagged in.)

Alright.

Reblog this and tell us a little about a scene you were excited to write. I'd like to focus on SFW scenes that feature high-emotions or high stakes. Talk about a tragedy, a broken heart, anxiety, etc...

It can be from original works or (because this *is* Tumblr) fanfiction.

tagging some people: @twistedstitcher27, @baba-fett, @lady--kenobi, @sulevinen, @laz-laz-ace-pilot, @clone-bar-79s, @certified-anakinfucker, @mysteryhacked, @patchmates, @jedi-valjean, @purgetrooperfox, @thefact0rygirl, and anyone else who sees this and wants to participate!

[sleepingsun501]

Keeeeddaaa 😍 Let’s talk about Keeda!!

What did she want to be when she grew up? Like now she has her degree in finance and it sounds like she was always planning on taking over her father’s philanthropic endeavors but was that what she always wanted to do or did she dream of being something else as a kid?

Has she ever been in love before?

If she wasn’t paired with Fox, what other character could you see her with?

And finally June! We know Keeda’s comfort food is ice cream but what is June’s?

Hope you had a good weekend! ❤️

ARIA!! 💞 My weekend is just actually beginning, so you’re helping me start it off great!!

Ok, let’s see if I can do this without spoiling too much…

Keeda originally wanted to be a surgeon like her mother. She even worked as a paramedic during her first years at university and has a good deal of experience patching people up… a skill that might come in handy 👀

She thinks she’s been in love before, but she doesn’t know for sure. She’s only 26-27 years old, and all of her previous relationships were either flings or didn’t work out due to her busy schedule.

If Keeda wasn’t paired with Fox, she would be a good fit with Cody. She understands the weight of responsibility to others, and often puts the needs of others before her own, much like Cody and Fox do for their brothers.

June’s favorite comfort food is definitely a hot bowl of nerf or bantha stew. She’s a working girl, and she’s constantly on the move in her greenhouses, so coming home to a slow cooker full of stew is one of her favorite parts of the day.

Hope you had an amazing weekend babes, and thank you so much for the asks!! 💖💖

[sleepingsun501]

Oooo ok for the oc character design asks!! Informal and arms for either Keeda or June 🥰

Julie!! Thank you for the ask babes 💙💙

informal: What's your OC's lazy-day look? How do they like to dress when they're winding down?

June would totally wear something like these at the end of a long day to relax in. Both she and Keeda prefer to steal their clone boyfriends’ tops, tho 🤭🤭

arms: Does your OC have any weapons? What weapons do they carry, and how do they wear them when they're not fighting?

Keeda was gifted her father’s old pistol, a modified Westar-34, by her mother as she insisted that Keeda not travel into an active war zone without some sort of weapon. It has a wooden-inlaid handle and a small detachable scope, and she keeps it strapped to her right leg and hip when she’s not fighting. She also carries a small vibroblade in a sheath strapped to her right boot.

[wild-karrde]

Karrde's Fandom Friday Rec #3 (12/16/22)

Alright, I've got to include the 18+ series True Sweet Lies by @sleepingsun501! Erin posted Chapter 3 this week, and it is just EVERYTHIIIIIING. Getting to know the reader/OC more is so fascinating, and I ADORE the way Erin writes Fox as confident, but also a bit flustered around Keeda. HE'S JUST SO SOFT AND THE LAST LITTLE BIT SENT ME INTO ANOTHER DIMENSION BECAUSE IT IS JUST SO SWEET. I loved meeting June and Keeda's backstory just grows more intriguing with every part. I love seeing how she fits into Coruscant's society and can't wait to see how that impacts her relationship with Fox and the others in this story. IT'S GREAT AND YOU SHOULD CHECK IT OUT!

Participate in Fandom Friday to show your favorite creators from this week some love! :)

[sleepingsun501]

Chapter 3: The Prices of Service

Characters: Commander Fox, Commander Thorn, OC Keeda Ionza, OC June Makano

Summary: If he was not here to protect them, his position would likely go to Thorn or Thire, and that was something he would never wish on his vode. Fox had decided long ago that if his suffering spared his brothers, he would endure it.

Rating: Explicit 18+, no smut

Warnings: Clone trooper dehumanization, residual anxiety

Word Count: 4.4k

Ao3 link

A/N: CHAPTER 3 UPDATED: 06/20/2023. Hello and welcome to the updated Chapter 3 of Sweet True Lies!! Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy it!!

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

The Prices of Service

Keeda gasped as she jerked herself awake, looking around and briefly wondering where she was. You’re in your old room. Relax. You’re okay. she told herself as she got her bearings.

An annoyed meow came from the black-striped lump of tan fur next to her feet as she reached over and grabbed the remote on her nightstand, reducing the dark opaque tint of her windows to let in the morning light. “Sorry, Chuffs,” she apologized to her mother’s tooka cat.

She squeezed her eyes shut against the harsh light bouncing off Coruscant's surface and nestled herself back into her cloudy pillows, not quite ready to leave the warmth of her large bed.

A pair of large pointy ears twitched as Chuffs stood up briefly and stretched languidly as the light reached her, giving Keeda a curious look before settling back down in her warm spot with a purr.

Scrunching her fingers through her tangled hair as she took in the morning, Keeda’s thoughts wandered back to the dream she had been having. It had not been unpleasant—quite the opposite: Someone’s strong arms had pulled her close with whispers of reassurance and safety, enveloping her with so much warmth she could have melted into them.

She mused over it for a moment, twisting a bit to look at her upper arm and wondering why she had such a comforting dream after such a tumultuous night. As she prodded the bruise-free skin to check for any residual soreness, she figured a nightmare would have been more fitting, but none had come.

“Good morning, Mistress Keeda,” N2’s soft, high-pitched, mechanical voice said as he shuffled into her room. He was holding a breakfast tray laden with what looked like muffins, scrambled nuna eggs, sliced shuura fruit, and her favorite tea.

Keeda stretched and yawned before sitting up, realizing absently that she had slept much further into the morning than she normally did. Just a few years prior, after inheriting the leading share of ownership of her father’s galaxy-wide shipping company, Interplanetary Cargo Carriers, she had begun rising with the sun each day. 

She typically carried out most of her meetings and flimsiwork in the waking hours to leave the rest of her day open, and she had thrown herself into assisting her mother with running the charity in her spare time.

The routine had become a bit monotonous over the years as Terreg Ionza had so skillfully built and structured the company that his daughter barely had to touch it, leaving Keeda the financial freedom others could only dream of. 

Still, she heeded her father’s advice and checked in with her business teams, other shareholders, and financial advisors almost daily, and the company continued to flourish even through the outbreak of the Clone Wars.

Today, however, already felt off-kilter due to the abrupt change in pace.

“Morning, N2. What’s all this?” she asked, untangling herself from the velvety blankets and trying not to disturb Chuffs a second time.

“Oh, Mistress Sareel was insistent that you have something to eat before you leave,” N2 replied.

She rubbed her eyes groggily as N2 set the meal down on the marble night table. Her stomach rumbled loudly as the scent of the fresh, berry-laden muffins and fluffy eggs finally registered, remembering how little she had eaten the night before.

Sipping the milky, steaming tea and nibbling a muffin, Keeda skimmed the news on her comm and answered a few messages from her business teams as she did every morning. Articles recounting the Republic Navy’s latest victories and defeats rerouting trade and travel hyperspace lanes littered the screen, and it had become a new weekly normal for her to approve or reject what shipping lanes the ICC would utilize among her usual tasks.

But as hard as she tried to focus, she found her mind wandering back to her dream. It was fading quickly as she fully woke, but the sense of security of those imaginary arms around her had greatly lessened her residual anxiety. Not wanting to give that anxiety any opportunity to return, she tried to burn the dream into her brain.

“Is there anything you require before I begin the household chores, Mistress Keeda?” N2 asked, carrying her hamper from her bathroom.

“No, thank you, N2. You have done plenty for me already,” Keeda replied, giving the droid a smile. She knew N2 could not feel emotions—he was simply programmed to respond—but she had always been polite to him nonetheless.

As she tucked into her breakfast, she remembered her mother’s request to check on the floral arrangements for the gala and sent a quick text comm to June, telling her she would be stopping by.

In a last-second decision, she also took the opportunity to inform June of the details of the previous evening. She was well aware that June never answered personal calls while working, and therefore would not call herself, but Keeda received several long texts full of enraged expletives and exclamations within just a few minutes.

June had always been hotheaded, so Keeda took her time in eating and dressing, figuring her best friend would have vented out a lot of that initial steam by the time she arrived if she did not rush. Instead, she savored the morning, and her delicious breakfast, for once and turned her thoughts toward preparing for the gala.

Nothing about the Clone Wars had slowed down the charity foundation’s work, but it had physically condensed it to Core and Mid-Rim worlds, much like the ICC had, as new battle maps were drawn every day in every sector of the galaxy. The charity had also been forced to cut its ties with Separatist worlds, though Keeda knew some of the medical outposts on those worlds had continued to function without proper funds, manned now only by the very people they had been constructed to help.

With the organization now officially partnering with the GAR, however, the work could continue on Loyalist worlds outside of the Core and Mid-Rim. Keeda had already received the information about the battalion she would be attached to for the foreseeable future, and she sincerely hoped the clones would accept working with her in the field. Deep down, she had been a little worried they would always see her as an outsider.

An hour later found her stepping out of a taxi and onto a wide, sunny pedestrian walkway in a neighboring district. The air was still chilly, but the sun managed to take the bite of the wind away as Coruscant hummed with life around her. Citizens of all species bustled about and children laughed as if there were no war at all to speak of, and she joined the flow of the crowd.

How privileged we are just to see the sun on this planet when others go their whole lives in the lower levels. You were born into that privilege, my dearest. Use it to help others. Terreg’s words echoed through Keeda’s mind deeply as she walked, listening to the dull thudding of her boots on the duracrete join the symphony of footsteps.

In a matter of minutes, a long, tall greenhouse stretched down the length of the block before her, made entirely of glass walls and windows—just one of ten identical buildings laid out parallel to each other. A much smaller, older structure sat at the end of the first building, with a glowing sign projected onto the ancient-looking brick that read ‘Makano Greenhouses,’ and she made her way to the door.

The air inside the main shop was warm and damp, and it was like stepping into an entirely different world. The fresh scents of thousands of varieties of flowers, vegetables, fruits, and shrubbery the Makano family had grown for nearly two centuries in their greenhouses all wafted to greet her like a warm embrace, spiriting her away from the ecological barrenness of Coruscant. She suspected the shuura fruit she had eaten for breakfast had come from these greenhouses.

Inhaling the perfumy fragrances deeply, Keeda pressed the service button on the front desk, taking the time to admire all the glittering vases, fruit baskets, and pre-arranged flower displays already up for sale.

“Be there in a second, Keeds,” a light feminine voice said, echoing through a speaker. 

June Makano was the latest generational owner of her family’s greenhouses and Keeda’s best friend from their time at university.

Although the greenhouses were an incredibly lucrative business over the centuries—being one of the last few remaining places on-world providing food and décor to Coruscant’s upper classes—the Makano family had used them as a cover for less legitimate business for just as long.

True to her word, a few moments later, a delicately curvy young woman with bright ginger hair and equally bright hazel eyes came jogging in through the shop’s back door. 

“Fucking hell, girl,” she greeted in typical June fashion, wiping her hands on a rag and pulling her friend into a tight hug.

“Hey, June,” Keeda replied. She hugged her back, glad to see her initial, explosive temper had cooled already. 

“You nearly gave me a heart attack this morning with your message. How’re you holding up?”

“I’m coping, could’ve been worse,” she added dismissively. However, her remaining unease must have still been shining through her expression because June cocked a disbelieving, fiery eyebrow at her.

The two had become like sisters over the years, and it still baffled Keeda to no end how the redhead was always able to know exactly how she felt, reading people like open books.

As if on cue, the way June pursed her lips was another classic indicator that she knew Keeda was still not all right, but Keeda ignored it and annoyedly huffed out a tired breath, leaning against the counter.

“Okay, I’m not gonna make you talk about it,” June said quietly and rubbing her friend’s arm affectionately, “but you know I’m here if you need to. You know I can still get Naiyo to deal with him, too, right?”

Keeda chuckled dryly and rolled her eyes. Naiyo Makano was the last person she wanted to be involved in her dating life again. “No, thanks. I don’t want your rum-running twin brother and his gangsters getting themselves into any more trouble on my account.”

“He still cares about you, but I get it. The offer always stands, though. Now, come on, let me show you the flowers for tomorrow,” June said in a singsong voice, effectively dropping the subject.

June led her through the back door and past the greenhouses to an enormous workshop. It looked equally as ancient as the main shop with all its exposed brick and dark steel rafters, and the sunlight streaming through the high windows glittered off little dust motes in the air.

Specialized droids hovered about, arranging several varieties of colorful flowers into garlands, bouquets, and centerpieces for the gala. Keeda recognized some of the larger flower varieties, but there were also unfamiliar, tiny, shining white blossoms on wiry vines mixed into the arrangements.

“Let your mum know everything will be delivered this afternoon, and I’ll be there personally tonight to make sure they’re set up properly,” June said, taking an extra bundle of the blossoms and handing them to Keeda. “These would look really pretty in your hair tomorrow.”

“What are these?” she asked curiously. The little shimmering flowers gave off a delicate, but musky-sweet scent, unlike anything she had smelled before. They were also surprisingly resilient as she touched them, despite being so small.

“They’re a variety of peace blossoms from Naboo,” June explained, lifting the end of a garland into a transport crate. “Your mum asked for those particularly, so I had to use the hydroponic systems and pure light to get them to grow faster. She said it was to represent a quick end to the war with the help of all the relief volunteers.”

“Trust my mum to weave poetic symbolism into everything,” Keeda mumbled, tilting the little flowers in her palm. Their sheen reflected a faint bluish-green hue beneath the milky petals as she heard June pause her work. From the tone of her sigh, Keeda could tell she was worried. “You still don’t think I should have volunteered?”

June looked away as she shook her shoulder-length orange hair out of its clip to readjust it. “I just don’t want you to get hurt or anything. Just because you’re only going on relief missions doesn’t mean it’s safe, Keeds. You could be attacked at any time.”

“Now you really sound like my mum,” Keeda muttered sardonically. She knew June meant well, but even she knew Keeda had been screaming internally for months from being cooped up on Coruscant. “I’ll be with the troops the whole time. They’ll keep any droids out of my way, and I’m a decent shot myself.”

June gave her a reproachful look, but she clipped her hair back up and shrugged. “Just… be careful. You’re my best friend.”

“I know and I will be careful. But you know exactly how badly I need to get off this kriffing planet. I need some fresh air, quite literally a different atmosphere. It’s beautiful here, in its own way, and it’ll always be home, but I need some change.” 

Keeda stepped a bit closer and lowered her voice a notch, shaking her head, “And you were right before, June. I’m not entirely fine, especially after last night. Getting away right now is the best thing I can do.”

She could tell June was holding back her tears from the way she looked around rapidly and started chewing on her plump, pink bottom lip. Keeda pulled her into a more solid hug, aware that it may be the last chance she got before she shipped out the morning after the gala. “I promise, I’ll be fine. When I get back, I’ll tell you all about it over caf at that greasy little diner you like so much.”

June chuckled, letting a tear escape as she embraced her tightly. “Hey, don’t shit on Dex’s. He’s got the best nerfburgers ever, just admit it.”

Fox sighed heavily as he picked up another datapad full of reports ready for his review and signature. It had been an unusually eventful day, starting normally with a meeting with the chancellor, but ending with him scrambling to rescind orders that he did not recall giving.

He had, had memory blackouts before, but never once had he ever told anyone about them. His fear of being sent back to Kamino and being reconditioned was less for himself and more for the men he commanded. If he was not here to protect them, his position would likely go to Thorn or Thire, and that was something he would never wish on his vode. Fox had decided long ago that if his suffering spared his brothers, he would endure it.

He lifted his helmet off, cutting the loud metal music he had been working to, and rubbed his fingertips over his eyes until he could see spots behind his eyelids. As he gulped down the last swallow of cold caf in his mug, he willed away the mental strain the day had so brutally taken out on him.

Today, the orders had been to raid a known criminal den, a mid-level dive lounge, to seek out suspected Separatist sympathizers. It was something the Corries had done before, and they had a very high success rate, but those raids were always carried out in the earliest hours of the morning, and today’s orders had come at midday.

Tactically, Fox knew better. He knew to wait till the late evening and early hours to strike when people were tired and had likely been imbibing, but when he rewatched the footage from his own helmet, he could hear his voice commanding that the raid be carried out immediately.

The next thing he remembered feeling was like he was waking up, coming out of a dense black fog just in time to realize what was going on around him. He had scrambled to recall his troopers before it was too late, his heart pounding its way through his ribs but retaining his stoic demeanor—a quickly learned skill in his position. Only after his men had successfully returned to base without engaging any hostiles, did Fox allow himself room to breathe, and the heated reprimand he endured from the chancellor’s vice chair, Mas Amedda, was let in one ear and out the other.

Skillfully lying his way out of it, another rapidly learned skill, he had stated that new evidence had suddenly come to light that needed to be reviewed before a raid could be carried out more effectively. However, to appease the seething, sycophantic Chagrian politician, Fox ordered that two of the serving droids at the dive bar be captured and reprogrammed to discreetly report on any Separatist-sympathetic activity for the next several weeks.

Amedda constantly meddled in military affairs, and it only served to make Fox’s job harder. It had taken an intervention by the chancellor himself calmly agreeing with Fox about the strategy for Amedda to back off.

Slipping his helmet back on and starting up his music again, Fox skimmed over the datapad. The harsh but melodic music was soothing him in a way he could not fully explain as he read through the infuriating reports. The reports he was signing off on now were not related to his direct orders. These had come in from the covert bases in deeper levels of the planet regarding a series of gang-related skirmishes.

A total of 52 brothers had been lost in the past two weeks due to increased gang warfare, and Fox’s dark eyes read each number carefully. Some of their names he knew, some he did not, but in the reports, their chosen names were never given; only their designation numbers were listed under a column that read ‘destruction of Republic property, KIA.’

It made Fox want to slam his fist through the datapad. He and his brothers were human, but still regarded as property. Slaves… resources… boys bred for war. echoed in his mind—sentiments he had heard from nat-born politicians and civilians in general on more than one occasion.

He had grown used to it, being treated as nothing more than a security measure or as a suit of armor decorating a dark corner waiting to be called to action, but it never stopped his anger from burning across his skin when he saw his brothers’ numbers lined up for him to acknowledge. He was responsible for them and each number felt like a sting of failure, no matter how many times Wolffe, Cody, or even Thorn told him he could not blame himself.

Thorn shifted from the cot he had been straddling, a stack of flimsi sheets and datapads of his own scattered in front of him. “I’m just about done,” he announced.

Fox barely heard him over the music, but he acknowledged his vod with a short hum, continuing to scribble his signature—his own designation number preceded by his rank—across the screen where necessary.

Thorn huffed, scratching a hand through his dark blonde curls, and rose to snatch the last datapad off Fox’s desk. The helmeted commander did not even try to stop him, knowing he was only trying to help. “Are you putting in another requisition order to Kamino?” Thorn asked, reading over the information.

“I have to,” Fox said, turning the screeching music down. “We’ve lost a platoon’s worth of brothers in two weeks because rival gangs have ramped up their attempts to claim territory. They’re too powerful to root out at the source without authorization from the district courts, and we don’t have that kind of jurisdiction.”

“Bureaucratic bullshit,” Thorn muttered.

“Exactly. If our main concern wasn’t all these fucking senators and the security of the upper levels, I’d be down there crushing them under my heels myself.”

Thorn forged Fox’s signature a few times and stacked the datapad with the others. “I need a drink. You up for 79s?”

Fox rolled his eyes. As if alcohol is going to help these memory blackouts. He set his helmet on his desk and kneaded the knots in his stiff neck, tossing his finished datapad on the pile. Leaning back in his creaking chair and stretching, he internally debated whether or not he wanted to go drinking.

Seeing his brother’s reluctance, Thorn pressed, “Come on, when did you last take a night off? There might be some cute girls there, and I bet any of them would love to help a marshal commander unwind.”

He thought about shooting Thorn a dark scowl, but Fox had to admit it had been a while since he had engaged in anything truly pleasurable, and he still could not get the image of that beautiful young woman out of his mind. He had begun imagining what she might look like if she smiled, and it made him feel lighter in an unfamiliar but captivating way. It was doubtful he would ever see her again, though, and blowing off some steam with someone new might just get those green eyes out of his stormy head.

Sighing as Thorn gave him a mockingly pitiful look, Fox relented, “All right, go round up the boys. I’ll be down in a minute.

He chuckled as he watched Thorn do a little happy skip out of his office before opening up the bottom drawer of his desk and digging for the box of bio-sheaths he always kept on hand. Even if he did not end up needing one, chances were that another brother would.

79’s was crawling with all sorts of beings. The majority were clones, but any nat-borns who wanted to patronize the infamous clone bar were welcome—assuming they did not cause trouble.

The Corries always caught the attention of the patrons whenever they arrived, and news of their presence swept through the vast establishment like wildfire. A radius of skepticism and caution always seemed to follow them for the first hour or so, garnering timid glances and hushed murmurs. Most people assumed they showed up because there was trouble, but as Fox and his men had removed their helmets, joking with each other and ordering a round of drinks, the atmosphere relaxed again.

One by one, each of them broke away from the group, finding brothers from other battalions to catch up with or seduced by potential partners. However, try as Thorn might, he could not convince Fox to do any more than lean over the railing of the third level overlooking the dance floor.

“I didn’t bring you here just to watch you know,” he called over the blaring music, growing more irritated that Fox’s version of a night off included nothing more than sipping bourbon as slowly as possible. “Loosen up, Vod.”

Fox let his drink sit and mellow on his tongue before answering, focusing on the sweeter notes in the cool alcohol. “I’m not stopping you from having fun. You’re the one choosing to stand here.” Fox grumbled back over the music.

Thorn rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Yeah. I do.”

“You sure you don’t want to have a little fun? That girl over there has been looking at you for a few minutes now.”

Fox followed Thorn’s eyes over his shoulder to a standing table with a group of scantily clad young women giggling around it. Sure enough, a few of them were smiling in their direction.

“I’m good.”

“Would this have anything to do with a certain girl you helped the other night?”

Fox rolled his eyes but sighed and took a deeper drink from his glass, swirling what was left of his ice into the deeply fragrant alcohol. No matter how hard he tried, and even after her assailant had been dealt with, he could not stop that mystery woman from invading his thoughts. 

His mind grew pleasantly quiet once more as he stopped trying to distract himself and let the thought of her in. The pulsing lights and pounding music blaring through the club were barely noticeable to him after a few minutes, and it only got easier with every sip of his drink.

Thorn nudged him and he pulled himself out of his trance, looking at his brother in confusion. “What?”

Thorn nodded past him, and Fox turned to see a gorgeous Zeltron woman standing beside and smiling at him. 

“Forgive me,” Fox apologized. “I didn’t see you.”

“It’s okay. I just asked if you’d like to dance?” she asked again, hopefully twirling a strand of her dark purple hair around a crimson-skinned finger.

Fox felt the heat rise in his neck. She was stunning and curvaceous, but the usual urge to take a willing partner for a spin on the crowded dance floor below was strangely absent. Although he had to admit she was certainly attractive, and he would not have turned her down in the past, she just was not who he wanted.

Giving her a kind smile in return, Fox politely declined and offered up Thorn instead. His vod lit up like a firecracker and he eagerly extended his hand. Fox knew, at the very least, it would keep his brother from bitching at him about being a downer.

Just before Thorn was pulled away by his new partner, Fox dug into a pouch on his belt and subtly slipped him the bio-sheath. “Just in case,” he mouthed.

Thorn gave him a grateful nod as he realized Fox was not planning on staying. Bumping vambraces with him, he turned to follow his eager new date down to the congested main floor of the club.

Fox sighed deeply and downed the rest of his bourbon in one hearty swig, letting it mellow against his tongue before swallowing. He could hear Mari’s distant voice in his head now, kicking him and telling him he was crazy for not accepting the Zeltron woman’s offer. He chuckled to himself as he remembered their situations being reversed when she and Rex had first gotten together.

The crisp air was invigorating as he stepped back into the night and swung over the seat of his speeder bike. He was somehow more alert now, even despite the single drink he had consumed. However, he knew his outrageous metabolism would burn it off quickly, and with sex oddly being very far from his mind, there was only one other method he knew would help him sleep—a brutally exhausting workout. Revving the speeder into gear, he set off back to the base.

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[sleepingsun501]

Welcome to my Masterlist!

Each fic has its own summaries, tags, and warnings, and is also crossposted to Ao3. I have also listed the main character beside each fic so you can choose who you would like to read about.

‼️THIS IS AN 18+ ONLY BLOG. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. NSFW🔞 SERIOUSLY JUST SHOO‼️

Links to any fanart or headcanons I make or draw will also be posted here.

Please don’t repost my art — Likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated tho!

Happy reading!

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Art Commission Info

Last Updated: 10/17/2024

One-Shots

No smut: ✨

Smut: 🔞

Set to Stun (Fox) ✨

All Tied Up (Rex) 🔞

Lipstick Stains (Rex) 🔞

100 word smut challenge (Wolffe) 🔞

Domino Twin Ice Cream Shenanigans ✨

Make It Last (Obi-Wan) 🔞

Let Them Hear (Fives) 🔞

Same Heart, Same Blood (Fives) ✨

Welcome Home (Rex) 🔞

Good Morning, Princess (Boba) 🔞

Series

Sweet True Lies (Fox)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

OC: Keeda Ionza

OC: June Makano

OC: Keeda Ionza by @art-of-the-twistedstitcher

Shared Experiences (Fives)

Part 1

De-Aged Clones

Wolffe, Cody, Rex, Howzer, Jesse, Kix, Echo, Fives, Tech, Hunter, Crosshair, Wrecker, Gregor, Hardcase

Headcanons

Togrutas can purr

Fives discovered Snapchat stickers

Anakin never told anybody he couldn’t swim

Fox Headcanons Part 1 & Part 2 & Part 3

79s Clone Bar

Clone 99 and the Bad Batch

Art

Some of my art is 🔞NSFW and is labeled accordingly. MINORS DNI!

SFW art is labeled with ✨

Come Back to Bed Mesh’la (Rex) 🔞

The Domino Twins ✨

Rex Misses You 🔞

Dining In (ch.1 Rex, ch.2 Wolffe) 🔞

Rex and his Ad’ika ✨

Jesse 🔞

Rex and OC: Mari Vontas ✨

Rex and OC: Orr’Sinda Perth ✨ (Art Swap)

Commander Fox ✨

Crosshair and OC Iden Vena ✨ (Commission)

Fives and OC Mal Darroch 🔞 (Commission)

Rex and OC Mari Vontas 🔞 (Commission)

Commander Wolffe ✨

Rex and OC Talia Riva 🔞 (Commission)

Tech with hair ✨

Rex and OC Danai ✨ (Commission)

Gregor ✨

Kix and OC Brynn Clarke ✨ (Commission)

Fox, Wolffe, Cody, and OC Nova ✨ (Commission)

Bashful Rex ✨ (Commission)

Sleepy Fox and Bean ✨

Wolffe and Baby Mira ✨ (Commission)

Commissioned Clone Shower Art Series

Tup 🔞

Commander Cody 🔞

Arc Trooper/Bad Batch Echo 🔞

Captain Rex 🔞

Commander Wolffe 🔞

[misogirl828]

I AM IN LOVE WITH KEEDA AND FOX FALLING IN LOVE 💖💖💖💖💖🥰🥰🥰

They all parted for her, as though she were a goddess among mortals—even more beautiful than he remembered.

He straightened his spotless uniform and blew out a long sigh, puffing his cheeks. Pull yourself together, Fox. You’re a kriffing Marshal Commander. You can do this.

I am LOVING Fox in love. Love can make the most confident among us suddenly shy or speechless. And that Keeda has the SAME REACTION to him that he has to her?!? 😘😘😘

And this…

“It’s you,” he echoed softly, stepping closer. His voice was low and gravelly, and his eyes never left yours. “You look lovely tonight.”

GIRL, if Fox looked at me that way and said that to me in that lovely baritone voice of his, ❤️‍🔥🥵🫠 I think I might stop breathing~~~

AND WOLFFE DANCES?!? AND HE TAUGHT FOX?!? 🤯🥰

THE ENDING, I WAS SCREAMING 💖💖💖💖

Although he virtually towered over you, Fox took your hand again and bowed slightly, capturing your gaze once more. His lips were warm as he pressed an impossibly soft kiss against the thin skin of your knuckles, and a mixture of shock and delight flooded through your body. Smiling brilliantly at you one last time, he replied, “Green.”

YAS BABY!!

And before I forget…..

I ADORE JUNE! Love that she is a fierce and understanding friend! 🥰

Love how you pull the reader into the everyday life of the Keeda, June and Fox. The food, the sights and sounds, the flowers that June arranges for the gala (peace flowers from Naboo, that smell so beautifully and are so tiny?! Love these little details). And describing the Gala! 💖

Also loved that both Keeda and Fox have learned communicating/negotiating from being around politics.

Finally…..describing Fox fresh out of the shower with just a towel around his hips 🥵 and his curls?!? You are killing me here!! (And I love it 🥰😘)

Sweet True Lies: Chapter 3

Two Truths and a Lie

Paring(s): Fox x OC: Keeda Ionza (FINALLY!)

Characters: F!Reader/OC: Keeda Ionza, OC: June Makano, Commander Fox, Commander Thorn

Summary: Gala time!

Rating: This chapter is G (series is rated E)

Warnings: Light Angst, Fluff, Romantic Fluff

Word Count: 7.2k

Ao3 link

A/N: Hello and welcome to chapter 3! Sorry it took so long to write, but hopefully, it will all be worth it!

There is another new OC I'm bringing into this fic. Her name is June Makano. Check her out here!

Reblogs are greatly appreciated. Enjoy!

Two Truths and a Lie

You gasped as you jerked yourself awake, looking around and briefly wondering where you were. You’re in your old room. Relax. You’re okay. you told yourself as you got your bearings.

An annoyed meow came from the black-striped lump of tan fur next to your feet as you reached over and grabbed the remote on your nightstand, reducing the dark opaque tint of your windows to let in the morning light. “Sorry, Chuffs,” you apologized to your mother’s lazy tooka cat.

You squeezed your eyes shut against the harsh light bouncing off Coruscant's surface, and nestled yourself back into your cloudy pillows, not quite ready to leave the warmth of your large bed. Chuffs stood up briefly and stretched languidly as the light reached her, giving you a curious look before settling back down in her warm spot with a purr.

Scrunching your fingers through your tangled hair as you took in the morning, your thoughts wandered back to the dream you had been having. It had not been unpleasant—quite the opposite: Someone’s strong arms had pulled you close with whispers of reassurance and safety, enveloping you with so much warmth you could have melted into them.

You mused over it for a moment, twisting a bit to look at your upper arm and wondering why you had such a comforting dream after such a tumultuous night. As you prodded the bruise-free skin to check for any residual soreness, you figured a nightmare would have been more fitting, but none had come.

“Good morning, Mistress Keeda,” N2’s soft, high-pitched, mechanical voice said as he entered your room. He was holding a breakfast tray laden with what looked like muffins, scrambled nuna eggs, sliced shuura fruit, and your favorite tea.

You stretched and yawned before sitting up, realizing absently that you had slept a lot further into the morning than you normally did. “Morning, N2. What’s all this?” you asked, untangling yourself from your blankets and trying not to disturb Chuffs a second time.

“Oh, Mistress Sareel was insistent that you have something to eat before you leave,” N2 replied.

You rubbed your eyes groggily as N2 set the meal down on the bed beside you. Your stomach rumbled loudly as you smelled the fresh, berry-laden muffins and fluffy eggs, remembering how little you had eaten the night before.

Sipping your steaming tea and nibbling a muffin, you pulled your datapad into your lap and skimmed the news as you did every morning. Articles of the army’s latest victories and defeats rerouting trade and travel hyperspace lanes littered your screen, but you found your mind wandering back to your dream. It was fading quickly as you fully woke, but the sense of security of those imaginary arms around you had greatly lessened your anxiety.

“Is there anything you require before I begin the household chores, Mistress Keeda?” N2 asked, carrying your hamper from your bathroom.

“No, thank you, N2. You have done plenty for me already,” you replied, giving the droid a smile. You knew N2 could not actually feel emotions—he was simply programmed to respond—but you had always been polite to him.

As you began eating your breakfast, you sent a quick text comm to June, telling her you would be stopping by to check on the flowers, and you also took the opportunity to recount the details of your previous evening to her. You knew she was working, and therefore could not call you, but you received several long replies full of enraged expletives and exclamations anyway. June had always been hotheaded, but she would have blown off a lot of that steam by the time you arrived if you did not rush.

You took your time in eating and dressing, savoring the morning for once, and sinking back into your thoughts. Nothing about the war had slowed down the charity foundation’s work, but it had physically condensed it to Core Worlds as new battle maps were drawn every day in the Mid and Outer Rims. The charity had also been forced to cut its ties with Separatist worlds, though you knew some of the outposts on those worlds had continued to function without proper funds, manned now only by the very people they had been constructed to help.

With the organization now officially partnering with the GAR, however, the work could continue on Loyalist worlds outside of the Core. You had already received the information about the battalion you would be attached to for the foreseeable future, and you sincerely hoped the clones would accept working with you. Deep down, you had been a little worried they would always see you as an outsider.

An hour later found you stepping out of a taxi and onto a wide, sunny pedestrian walkway. The air was still chilly, but the sun managed to take the bite of the wind away. A long, tall greenhouse stretched down the length of the block before you, made entirely of glass walls and windows—just one of ten identical buildings laid out parallel to each other. A much smaller, older structure sat at the end of the first building, with a glowing sign projected onto the ancient-looking brick that read ‘Makano Greenhouses,’ and you made your way to the door.

The air inside the main shop was warm and damp, and it was like stepping into an entirely different world. The fresh scents of thousands of varieties of flowers, vegetables, fruits, and shrubbery the Makano family had grown for nearly two centuries in their greenhouses all wafted to greet you, spiriting you away from the ecological barrenness of Coruscant. You suspected the shuura fruit you had eaten for breakfast had come from these greenhouses.

Inhaling the perfumy fragrances deeply, you pressed the service button on the front desk, taking the time to admire all the glittering vases, fruit baskets, and pre-arranged flower displays already up for sale.

“Be there in a second, Keeds,” a light feminine voice said, echoing through a speaker. True to her word, a few moments later, a curvy young woman with bright ginger hair and equally bright hazel eyes came jogging in through the shop’s back door. “Fucking hell, girl,” she greeted in typical June fashion, wiping her hands on a rag and pulling you into a tight hug. “You nearly gave me a heart attack this morning with your message. How’re you holding up?”

“Hi, June,” you replied. You hugged her back, glad to see her initial, explosive temper had cooled already. “I’m coping, could’ve been worse,” you added dismissively. The residual anxiety must have still been shining through your expression because June cocked a disbelieving, fiery eyebrow at you.

June Makano was the latest generational owner of her family’s greenhouses and your best friend from your time at university. Although the greenhouses were an incredibly lucrative business over the centuries—being one of the last few remaining places on-world providing food and décor to Coruscant’s upper classes—the Makano family had used them as a cover for less legitimate business for just as long.

Despite your knowledge of this, June had become like a sister to you over the years. It still baffled you to no end how she was always able to know exactly how you felt, reading you like an open book. The way she pursed her lips at you was another classic indicator that she knew you were still not all right, so you huffed out a tired breath and rested against the counter, ignoring it.

“I’m not gonna make you talk about it,” June said quietly, “but you know I’m here if you need to.” She rubbed your arm affectionately, and the gesture warmed you. “You know I can still get Naiyo to deal with him, too, right?”

You chuckled dryly and rolled your eyes. “No, thanks. I don’t want your rum-running twin brother and his gangsters getting themselves into any trouble on my account.”

“The offer stands,” June said in a singsong voice, effectively dropping the subject. “Now, come on, let me show you the flowers for tomorrow.”

June led you through the back door and past the greenhouses to an enormous workshop. It looked equally as ancient as the main shop with all its exposed brick and dark steel rafters. Specialized droids hovered about, arranging several varieties of colorful flowers into garlands, bouquets, and centerpieces for the gala. You recognized some of the larger flower varieties, but there were also tiny, shining white blossoms on wiry vines mixed into the bouquets that were unfamiliar.

“Let your mum know the arrangements will be delivered this afternoon, and I’ll be there personally tonight to make sure they’re set up properly,” June said, taking a bundle of the blossoms and handing them to you. “These would look really pretty in your hair tomorrow.”

The little flowers gave off a delicate, but musky sweet scent, unlike anything you had smelled before. “What are these?” you asked curiously. They were surprisingly resilient, despite being so small.

“They’re a variety of peace blossoms from Naboo,” June explained, lifting the end of a garland into a transport crate. “Your mum asked for those particularly, so I had to use the hydroponic systems and pure light to get them to grow faster. She said it was to represent a quick end to the war with the help of all the relief volunteers.”

“Trust my mum to weave poetic symbolism into everything,” you mumbled, tilting the little flowers in your palm. Their sheen reflected a faint bluish-green hue beneath the milky petals. You heard June pause her work, and from her tone, you could tell she was worried. “You still don’t think I should have volunteered?”

June sighed and shook her shoulder-length orange hair out of its clip to readjust it. “I just don’t want you to get hurt or anything. Just because you’re only going on relief missions doesn’t mean it’s safe, Keeds. You could be attacked at any time.”

“You sound like my mum,” you muttered sardonically. You knew June meant well, but even she knew you had been screaming internally for months from being cooped up on Coruscant. “I’ll be with the troops the whole time. They’ll keep any droids out of my way, and I’m a decent shot myself,” you smirked.

June gave you a reproachful look, but she clipped her hair back up and shrugged. “Just… be careful. You’re my best friend.”

“I know, but you know exactly how badly I need to get off this kriffing planet. I need some fresh air, quite literally a different atmosphere. It’s beautiful here, in its own way, and it’ll always be home, but I need some change.” You stepped a bit closer and lowered your voice a notch, shaking your head, “And you were right before, June. I’m not entirely fine, especially after last night. Getting away right now is the best thing I can do.”

You could tell June was holding back her tears from the way she looked around rapidly and started chewing on her plump, pink bottom lip, so you pulled her into a more solid hug this time, aware that this may be the last chance you got before you shipped out after the gala. “I promise, I’ll be fine. When I get back, I’ll tell you all about it over caf at that greasy little diner you like so much.”

June chuckled, letting a tear escape as she embraced you tightly. “Hey, don’t shit on Dex’s. He’s got the best nerfburgers ever, just admit it.”

You parted afterward with a smile and a quick goodbye, leaving the greenhouses with the peace blossoms in hand. As you glanced down at them, you realized your nails could do with a manicure. Begrudgingly, you knew you needed to polish yourself up. Time to turn into a lady.

***

Tucking his towel around his hips, Fox wiped the steam from his mirror and pulled his razor out from his refresher cabinet. Two of the few benefits of being a Marshal Commander permanently stationed on Triple Zero were private quarters and access to hot water showers. It hardly made up for the multitudes of other issues he dealt with on a daily basis, but it was far better than the communal sonic showers his millions of brothers were forced to use in the field and on starships.

He wished he did not have to shave so soon, rather liking the way his slightly greying stubble always set him apart from his brothers, but he had no choice. He had to be as presentable as possible for the gala in a few hours, and he mentally cursed whichever senator had taken Thire from his post.

Fox resented the way many senators seemed to think the Corries were their personal bodyguards instead of elite clone shock troopers. The boys were constantly called upon, day and night, to escort senators and other public officials to wherever they wanted to go, regardless of the security details they were already provided. Even their underpaid aides were not called upon as often as the Corries were for menial tasks—the moment a senator needed to travel off-world or needed a kriffing lightbulb changed, they rang a Guardsman.

Pushing his dripping curls away from his face, Fox slathered his cheeks and jaw in shaving cream and began methodically scraping away his stubble, careful not to nick himself. He had finally managed to get a few hours of solid sleep after a brutally exhausting workout, and he had taken Thorn’s advice about dabbing some bacta under his eyes. He somehow looked a bit younger as his skin became smooth, and it reminded him of how young he technically was. Physically, he was only about twenty-five now, even if he felt like he was nearly a hundred most days.

Fox carefully eased a clean undershirt over his head, careful not to muss his freshly faded curls that he had slicked back into smooth waves. The ever-present greys in his once jet-black hair had ceased to bother him, especially because they seemed to be a date magnet on the incredibly rare occasions he took to venture out to 79s with his brothers.

He smiled to himself as he pulled on his dress greys, fondly remembering the night Cody and Wolffe had dragged him to the bar with every intention of getting him laid. They had no idea their youngest brother had spent the past year carefully observing the very politicians he loathed, watching their formal, charming interactions and quietly putting them into practice. He had a date within twenty minutes that night, and Cody and Wolffe’s jaws had been on the deck.

Part of his charm, he had learned, came with his expression of intention. Fox had never once led anyone on, making sure an unattached night was all a lady was to expect from him. It was not that he wanted to sleep around or that he did not have feelings, but he knew he had no time for a committed relationship—even if it never stopped him from wondering how nice one would be.

Fox rolled his muscular shoulders in the stiff, heavy fabric of his dress uniform and checked his appearance over one last time. Just another big fancy dinner. he thought to himself, tucking his cover under his arm and echoing Thorn’s words from a few days prior.

***

“You’re fidgeting,” your mother whispered concernedly as you exited the speeder after her.

You gnawed at the inside of your cheek as you looked around. The poshly dressed guests were arriving in droves, greeting each other with both genuine and faux smiles, la bise kisses, and graceful bows. As the gala’s unofficial host, you started to feel the pressure as eyes were beginning to turn toward you. The sickening clench of your stomach was hard to ignore as you slapped a practiced smile on your face. Silently, you resigned yourself to participating in high-class society, and you were sure the gooseflesh breaking out over your skin had nothing to do with the chill in the air.

“Just nerves,” you muttered, shivering slightly, and smoothing out your flowing dark green dress. You were glad you had chosen something with a loose skirt that you could both walk and breathe in as the latter felt rather difficult. Beneath your long hair, you felt your mother’s silk-gloved hand subtly adjust one of the X-crossed straps on your backless gown for you before looping your arm in hers.

“You’ve nothing to worry about tonight, darling. Just try to relax and enjoy yourself,” she said soothingly, ushering you inside and out of the chilly air.

As you made your way closer to the grand doors of the hall, you spied a few clones in their distinct red and white armor cleverly stationed in the shadows, and your nerves calmed a bit. Whereas many of Coruscant’s citizens had come to loathe the ever-present shock troopers, you found their presence to be a comfort, more so now than ever before. You wondered if the commander was among them, but before you could dwell on the thought, your mother was pulling you into the venue.

Her hand soothed along your bare forearm as you made your way into the dazzling hall, and the sight took your breath away. The hall was massive, and the cavernous, arching glass ceiling reflected thousands of fairy lights woven into the garlands and wreaths June had no doubt spent hours setting up.

The air was fragrant from the same little peace blossoms that were nestled in your fashionably twisted hair, and as the only source of light apart from delicate flickering candles on the dining tables, the tiny, softly twinkling lights created a calm ambiance that seemed to warm even the darkest corners of the hall. While you looked around, you noticed a familiar, friendly face illuminated by the glow.

“Oh, my dear, Keeda,” Henya greeted compassionately, coming around a large, ornately set dining table, and taking you into her arms.

You grinned happily for the first time that evening as the tall Twi’lek woman embraced you, and the soft fur of her shawl tickled your nose. “Hello, Auntie,” you replied.

“You look divine tonight. That dress does wonders for your eyes,” she complimented, but Henya’s striking yellow eyes held a trace of guilt as she pulled away. “May I steal her for a moment, Sareel?” she asked, turning to your mother.

“Of course, of course. I will find you later, Keeda,” your mother replied, giving you a quick peck on the cheek.

As your mother began graciously receiving the other guests, Henya took your hands in both of hers, and you could practically feel the emotion rippling off her. Even her long violet lekku were twitching restlessly as she searched for her words.

“You don’t need to apologize for anything, Auntie,” you said before she could speak. “What happened the other night, that’s not your fault.”

Henya sighed heavily, “I am still terribly sorry, my dear. You shouldn’t have had to endure that.” She paused for a moment, looking around before her eyes settled on a rather severe-looking couple taking flutes of dark blue, bubbling wine from a passing server. “I’m even more sorry to say that they would like to speak with you before the evening’s festivities begin.”

The pit in your stomach immediately gave way to a dull numbness that flooded through your limbs. The governor and his wife had come after all, but you were thankful there seemed to be no sign of their son. You breathed deeply, unlocked your knees, and felt your head clear. Might as well get this unpleasantry out of the way.

Striding forward with purpose, your father’s voice whispered in the back of your mind; Opportunity lies in even the most unlikely places. When he had spoken those words to you so long ago, you had not fully understood their meaning. But now, as Henya led you across the room, your sharp mind understood that the governor was about to ask something of you.

“Governor and Missus Gargeli, may I present Miss Keeda Ionza,” Henya said diplomatically.

While Governor Gargeli might have looked unyielding on the outside, his blue eyes were benevolent. His son had clearly inherited his looks from his father, but you refused to let it unnerve you.

“Miss Ionza, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he said authentically as he extended his hand to you.

“The pleasure is mine, Governor.” You shook his hand firmly, conveying your directness.

“It is an esteemed honor to be invited this evening,” he remarked, releasing you to allow you to shake hands with his wife. “Although, I do wish the circumstances of our meeting would have been less precarious,” Gargeli added softly and opened his arm to you. “May I?”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes as you were passed to yet another arm. Did people think you were unable to walk on your own? Despite being on his arm, you steered the governor to a quieter corner of the hall. You waited until you were sure the sharp click of your heels on the tiles was no longer audible to the other guests before pausing beside one of the massive bouquets that matched your hair.

The governor, for all his formal appearance, looked ashamed. “I want you to know that my wife and I do not condone our son’s actions,” Gargeli whispered gravely. “Pettri was brought up to be better than that, and I sincerely apologize for any harm that has befallen you.”

Pettri Gargeli. you finally remembered. That was that fucker’s name.

The governor’s Coruscanti accent was much thicker than your own, and you had to strain a bit to hear him over the growing hum of the other guests and the gentle classical music that was beginning to play. He had your full attention as he continued, “I also wanted to inform you personally that Pettri is no longer living on Coruscant, and he will not be returning. I’ve sent him back to my family’s homeworld, and he will be dealt with in a manner befitting his actions.”

You hid your relief well, only shifting your weight from one hip to the other as you took in the revelation, still surveying the incoming guests nonchalantly. You had been silently dreading seeing Pettri again, even in passing, and the weight of that fear dissipated from your shoulders. “I am grateful for the measures you have taken in resolving the situation, Governor.”

Gargeli tapped a finger on his glass rather anxiously as he scanned the room blankly. “I’m afraid I do have another motive for speaking to you privately this evening, Miss Ionza,” he confessed. He swiftly acquired another flute of bubbling blue wine from a passing attendant and handed it to you as a gesture.

Here we go. you thought, accepting the drink to let him know you were listening, and bracing yourself for his request. You already had an inkling of what it was.

“As you may know, the local elections in my district are not far off.” He paused to clear his throat to emphasize the point he was about to make. “If… rumor was to spread, a scandal such as this involving a member of my immediate family would potentially—”

“—Potentially negatively impact your reelection,” you interrupted gracefully, finally meeting the governor’s eyes again. Although the smile you wore was practiced and demure, your green eyes conveyed your perceptivity. “And if I were to guarantee my silence on the matter, perhaps our agreement could be mutually beneficial.”

An intrigued look crossed Gargeli’s aristocratic face, his thick mustache twitching up in interest. “Name your terms, Miss Ionza.”

Taking a long sip from your glass, you glanced back out across the room trying to look as casual as possible. “The Terreg Ionza Medical Foundation could do more work in your district if you would consider opening more public spaces to our volunteers and providing security,” you said lowly, your throat tightening a fraction as your father’s name passed your lips. “In the past, our volunteers have encountered significant resistance in underprivileged areas, largely due to threats of local gang violence. Not only would it guarantee my silence, but it would also benefit your constituents.”

The governor nodded pensively. “I assure you my campaign already supports the increased street surveillance in my district. I see the Coruscant Guard are here tonight,” he added as he skimmed over the room. “They have been immensely helpful in training new security forces, so any volunteers would be well protected. Perhaps my wife and I will become more regular contributors to the Foundation as well, to ensure their success.”

A wave of triumph surged through your heart as you raised your wine flute in a small toast. Despite how much you hated playing politics, you were rather reluctantly good at it. “To the mutually beneficial work of our organizations.”

“Hear, hear,” Gargeli replied, a formal smile full of admiration and respect for you working its way onto his face.

With a clink of your glasses, the deal was sealed. Gargeli would open his district more fully to the charity’s work, thousands of citizens would benefit from increased medical aid, and the charity would receive yet another new source of funds. All paid for with your silence.

“Please, Governor, enjoy the evening,” you said with a gentle, sweeping motion, effectively excusing yourself.

Gargeli gave you a refined bow before returning to his wife’s side, and you began mingling your way through the crowd. Several people whom you had worked with in the past stopped to chat with you, each offering their views on the latest cooperations with the GAR. Some approved, some did not, and some expressed their admiration for your willingness to volunteer, but each conversation seemed to draw on your energy reserves.

Even after dinner had been served—you were eternally grateful your mother had not chosen that awful seafood dish to be an option—and the dancing had begun, you were finding the evening to be rather tedious. You did your best to conceal it; however, there was only so much you could take.

Over the sounds of clinking glasses and light laughter filling the air, blending with the lilting music now echoing across the hall, you huffed out a weary sigh. You wished you had someone other than politicians and socialites to converse with—just someone who did not want anything from you. From the moment you stepped out of the speeder, tonight had felt more like work than the enjoyable evening you hoped for.

***

Fox froze and his heart stuttered against his ribs.

He knew from the moment he saw her; it was her. His eyes followed her every move as she wove between people, conversing briefly before moving on. They all parted for her, as though she were a goddess among mortals—even more beautiful than he remembered.

“The hell are you looking at, vod?” Thorn asked, noting Fox’s sudden change. His older brother’s heavy brows were nearly knit together, and his scarred lips were parted in an awestruck expression. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Blinking out of his stupor, Fox nodded in the young woman’s direction. “She’s here,” he whispered, almost disbelieving his own words.

Thorn studied the crowd from their secluded spot by the doorway to a large, covered veranda, trying to follow Fox’s eye line. “You’re gonna have to be more specific than that.”

“From th-the other night. She’s… uh… Long, dark hair, with little flowers. Green dress. It’s her,” Fox stammered.

His golden-haired brother looked back out to the crowd a second time, spotting her easily. “Oh, wow,” Thorn breathed. He knew Fox had not lied about her appearance a few days prior, but seeing her for himself, Thorn finally understood why Fox had been so taken with her. He snickered to himself because the Marshal Commander of the Coruscant Guard was currently staring like a love-struck shiny after their first night at 79s. “That’s really her?”

Fox just nodded. He could not look away. She wore a perfect, congenial smile like a mask and carried herself with the grace of a queen, but her closed-off, stiff body language made Fox want to throw himself between her and the rest of the room—if only to shield her again for a moment so she could breathe.

“Well, go talk to her, di’kut!” Thorn laughed, nudging his ori’vod with a sharp elbow. “She looks like she could use better company than these nat-borns.” Fox opened his mouth to protest, but Thorn stopped him. “Go. You’d be shocked to know the boys and I can actually survive without your constant vigilance for a while.”

Seeing her step out another door on the opposite side of the hall and onto the wrap-around veranda, Fox nearly sprinted out the door beside him—no thanks to a playful swat on the ass from Thorn. It felt like his heart was about to jump through his nose as he quickly strode to where she had withdrawn.

Okay… okay… What am I gonna say to her? he rambled internally. Just ask her how she is, yeah? Ask her if she’s all right. No, why would she be all right? It’s only been a few days since… No, no, just tell her… tell her she looks nice. She’d like to hear that. Right? Fuck. Fuck, I did not think this through! Nevertheless, his feet propelled him forward.

Fox had never had any issues talking to women before, so why was he so unexpectedly flustered now? He paused and pressed his back against the cool alabaster wall just before turning the final corner of the building. He straightened his spotless uniform and blew out a long sigh, puffing his cheeks. Pull yourself together, Fox. You’re a kriffing Marshal Commander. You can do this.

***

The muffled silence was a welcome relief as you stepped out of the hall and rested your hands against the sleek railing. The crowds had begun gathering around to watch those waltzing about on the dance floor, and the stronger liquor had begun flowing as a medley of desserts was served, but you had come outside to let Coruscant’s skyline dazzle you for the thousandth time instead.

Letting your eyes drift shut, you tried to savor the quiet moment, and soaked up the soft warmth radiating from the outdoor heater beside you. You could still see the twinkling fairy lights all around you from behind your eyelids, and you watched as they played across your blinded vision. If you had a chaise and a blanket, you would have been content to stay right there until the sun rose.

Tomorrow, there would be no skyline. There would only be the swirling blue and silver streaks of hyperspace, whisking you off to a war-torn world to deliver medical relief supplies, and you were eager for it. Like you had told June, Coruscant would always be home, but you needed to get away for a while.

Your moment was interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps that ceased a few yards behind you and to your left. You half expected to find yet another aristocrat asking you to dance when you opened your eyes, but you were shocked to your very core when you looked over your shoulder.

Him. It was him. The clone commander that had come to your aid.

You felt your eyes widen in surprise as he looked at you. He was clean-shaven now, and his tussled, greying curls had been elegantly styled back, but his honey-gold eyes still glimmered in the lights with the same care and warmth he had shown you just a few nights ago.

“You,” you breathed without thinking. Immediately, you cursed your impropriety and stumbled over your words. “I’m s-sorry. I-I meant—”

The commander cracked a roguish, bright smile, and his mouth pulled a touch more to the right because of the scar on his bottom lip. “It’s you,” he echoed softly, stepping closer. His voice was low and gravelly, and his eyes never left yours. “You look lovely tonight.”

He was trying to put you at ease, and you could not help the little grin that broke over your painted lips. “Thank you,” you replied, and you were powerless to stop the blush creeping up your cheeks. “Truthfully, I’d rather be elsewhere, though.”

“Really?” he asked, tossing his gaze back into the hall for a moment. “Even with all these fine, upstanding people here?” There was the slightest hint of sarcasm in his voice, and you instantly relaxed despite the sudden draft blowing across the veranda.

The commander came to stand beside you, blocking the breeze and looking out over the planet-wide city. Even while leaning down on the railing and without his signature armor, he was still so very tall and broad. His hard muscles filled out his uniform, pulling at the fabric and defining him perfectly. It made you wonder just how strong he was…

“Are you cold?” he asked thoughtfully.

You shook your head faintly as you were pulled out of your thoughts. You felt wholly safe beside him, as though he were an immovable wall protecting you from the chill in the air and from the prying eyes of anyone who dared to look at you the wrong way—just as he did before.

That inkling of guilt suddenly came crawling back. The last time you had seen this man, you had spoken so harshly to him, and you had feared you would never get the chance to apologize. “Commander, I… I never thanked you properly… for the other night,” you said rather sheepishly.

He gave you a slightly puzzled look and shook his head almost imperceptibly, his eyes immediately coming to rest on your face again. “There’s no need to thank me.”

“Yes, there is,” you insisted, gripping the railing. “You and your men helped me. Something much worse might’ve happened if you hadn’t been there, and I shouldn’t have been so coarse.”

“You had every right to be,” he assured. “I’m glad I was there to help you.”

You toyed with a silver ring on your index finger as you carried on, “In any case, it’s no excuse for my behavior. I hope you’ll accept my apology, Commander.”

He turned to face you fully, leaning casually on one elbow and eyeing you charmingly. “I will, on one condition.”

How can he still look so powerful when he’s relaxed like that? you asked yourself, waiting for his request. He had somehow changed the very air around you so quickly that you found yourself letting go of the ache in your chest.

“Tell me your name?”

Whatever he was doing to make you feel so calm was mesmerizing, but you could also tell he was being playful, so you decided to entertain him. You pursed your lips and gave him a cheeky grin. “All right then. Let’s see if you can tell if I’m lying or telling the truth. Have you ever played two truths and a lie?”

“Two truths and a lie?” he asked inquisitively.

You nodded, fidgeting with your ring again. “I’ll tell you three things about myself. If you guess the lie, I have to tell you the truth about the lie. If you guess wrong, it’s your turn.”

The commander cocked a brow at you and smirked. “Very well, ladies first.”

You chewed your lip for a moment in thought, before settling on your lie. “My mother is the chairwoman of the foundation hosting this gala. I had a pet tooka when I was a child. My name… is Alana. Which is the lie?”

The weight of the commander’s gaze was encapsulating. You felt drawn into the depths of those stunning eyes as he analyzed you. He left no inch of your face untouched with his gaze. “Your name isn’t Alana,” he said finally.

“You’re right,” you conceded with a giggle. “My name is Keeda.”

The commander did not say anything for a moment, but his expression noticeably softened. You were not sure he was going to say anything until he muttered a single strange word, one you suspected was not Basic.

“Sorry?” you asked.

“Mesh’la,” he repeated, a little louder the second time. “It’s Mando’a. It means ‘beautiful’.”

You were certain you were bright red with how hard you were blushing. His lips barely moved whenever he spoke, unlike so many others tonight that had tried to woo your attention with overly enunciated accents and pretty words. The true sincerity in his tone rang clear. His voice was so rich, like a lovely bass-baritone note—deep and smooth, matching the darkened gold of his irises. You could practically feel the resonance of it in your ears despite how softly his words were uttered, and you suddenly craved to hear it again.

“Y-your turn, Commander.”

He must have had his answers ready because he spoke without hesitation. “My favorite color is red. My name is Fox. I’m a particularly good dancer.”

You mulled that over. Would he lie about his name, too? you wondered. It seemed logical, but he could also have been trying to throw you off. He had never looked you in the eye at all, though, choosing to focus on the little flowers woven through your hair—undoubtedly the better liar between you.

Laughing lightly as you gave up trying to guess, you settled on his name. “I don’t think your name is Fox.”

He flashed that brilliant white smile again. It contrasted so beautifully against his bronzed skin, and for the first time, you realized that you were more dazzled by the handsome commander in front of you than the skyline you had come out to observe. His smile and eyes were even brighter than any of the lights twinkling around you, and he exuded an affection that quieted any troubles in your mind.

“My name is Fox,” he said truthfully.

“Fox,” you repeated, bowing your head in mock defeat. “You’ve bested me. Where’d you learn to lie so well?”

“You pick up a thing or two when you’re around politicians all—”

As if on cue, he was interrupted as a group of guests came out onto the veranda, laughing boisterously and talking amongst themselves. They were clearly trying to ward off the buzz they had going with the cool night air. Luckily, they wandered away to the other side of the hall, but the door they had opened let a new melody waft outside.

It was a slower tune, but just as grand and orchestral as the others that had been playing all evening. You swayed your weight from one foot to the other, feeling the skirt of your dress flutter around your legs.

It had been so long since you danced. Your thoughts wandered back to the last time your father had helped you push all the furniture out of the way and taught you the steps of several common waltzes in the middle of your living room.

“Dance with me?” Fox asked suddenly, holding out his hand to you.

When did he take his gloves off? “Another truth?” you asked, resting your hand in his palm. His hand was calloused and strong, but his fingers were long and warm as they closed around yours ever so tenderly.

The crowd had thinned a bit for the evening, and you suspected this would be one of the last dances of the night, but you were glad to share it with Fox. You gasped a little when you felt his other hand settle around your lower back beneath your hair. His fingertips felt like fire brushing against your air-cooled bare skin, but you settled into his hold easily as he began guiding you down the length of the veranda. The steps he chose were uncomplicated, but you were impressed with the natural skill he seemed to possess as he swept you down the length of the open space.

“You were definitely telling the truth,” you laughed, enjoying how easily you moved together.

He arched his left arm and twirled you out beneath it before stepping in and sweeping you back into his hold. “I have my brother to thank for that,” Fox admitted, slowing a fraction with the timing of the music.

“Don’t you have a million brothers?” you asked lightheartedly. Fox looked so different from the stoic commander you had first met. A single stray curl had fallen loose on his forehead as he spun you around himself, and he practically beamed at you.

“This one is special. He inherited all the natural dancing talent somehow, so we just copied him. He’s the commander of the 104th battalion.”

You nearly stumbled in surprise, gripping Fox’s burly shoulder for support, but he was quicker and caught you. He gathered you into a spin to let you recover, bringing your body flush to his. The rush of adrenaline you felt as Fox effortlessly lifted you right off your feet made everything a little fuzzy, but he kept you securely in his strong arms. You felt like a star could have exploded between you with the heat of your bodies pressed together, and you would have happily melted into it.

After gently resting you back on your feet, Fox was the first to break the contact—although he seemed incredibly reluctant to do so. But the music still played in the background, so he continued to lead you through the dance.

“I’m assigned to the 104th as their official volunteer,” you said quickly, remembering why you had stumbled in the first place.

Fox chuckled. “You’ll like Wolffe. We grew up together as batchmates. He’s very stubborn and gruff, but he has a good heart.”

“I look forward to meeting him.”

As the music ended, the hall burst into applause. The other dancers and guests began to say their goodbyes, but you simply stood there under the twinkling lights. You panted together from the exertion of the dance as he continued to hold you, and you drank in the woodsy, slightly spicy scent of him mixed with the fragrance of the flowers in your hair.

He was gently brushing the back of your hand with his calloused thumb, and you were about to thank him for the dance, but the commlink on his wrist beeped. Still holding your hand, he released your waist and turned his right wrist over to silence the beeping.

“Ah, forgive me. Duty calls.”

As his fingers brushed over the device, you noticed the knuckles on his right hand were slightly blotched with old bruises, but you put it aside in your mind. “I… I hope I’ll see you again, Fox.”

He grinned down at you and gave your fingers a delicate squeeze. “Me too. Be safe, Keeda. Do whatever Wolffe tells you to do.”

You felt a pang of longing as he released you and turned to join the other Guardsmen waiting in the shadows at the other end of the veranda. How long have they been standing there?

Suddenly, you remembered and called out to him, “Wait, Fox!” He was immediately before you again with a questioning look on his face. “Please, before you go… what’s your favorite color?”

Although he virtually towered over you, Fox took your hand again and bowed slightly, capturing your gaze once more. His lips were warm as he pressed an impossibly soft kiss against the thin skin of your knuckles, and a mixture of shock and delight flooded through your body. Smiling brilliantly at you one last time, he replied, “Green.”

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@ariadnes-red-thread @twistedstitcher27 @rexxdjarin @wizardofrozz @moodymisty @ellichonkasaurusrex @ttzamara @nekotaetae @misogirl828 @wild-karrde @kaminocasey

Sweet True Lies: Chapter 3

Two Truths and a Lie

Paring(s): Fox x OC: Keeda Ionza (FINALLY!)

Characters: F!Reader/OC: Keeda Ionza, OC: June Makano, Commander Fox, Commander Thorn

Summary: Gala time!

Rating: This chapter is G (series is rated E)

Warnings: Light Angst, Fluff, Romantic Fluff

Word Count: 7.2k

Ao3 link

A/N: Hello and welcome to chapter 3! Sorry it took so long to write, but hopefully, it will all be worth it!

There is another new OC I'm bringing into this fic. Her name is June Makano. Check her out here!

Reblogs are greatly appreciated. Enjoy!

Two Truths and a Lie

You gasped as you jerked yourself awake, looking around and briefly wondering where you were. You’re in your old room. Relax. You’re okay. you told yourself as you got your bearings.

An annoyed meow came from the black-striped lump of tan fur next to your feet as you reached over and grabbed the remote on your nightstand, reducing the dark opaque tint of your windows to let in the morning light. “Sorry, Chuffs,” you apologized to your mother’s lazy tooka cat.

You squeezed your eyes shut against the harsh light bouncing off Coruscant's surface, and nestled yourself back into your cloudy pillows, not quite ready to leave the warmth of your large bed. Chuffs stood up briefly and stretched languidly as the light reached her, giving you a curious look before settling back down in her warm spot with a purr.

Scrunching your fingers through your tangled hair as you took in the morning, your thoughts wandered back to the dream you had been having. It had not been unpleasant—quite the opposite: Someone’s strong arms had pulled you close with whispers of reassurance and safety, enveloping you with so much warmth you could have melted into them.

You mused over it for a moment, twisting a bit to look at your upper arm and wondering why you had such a comforting dream after such a tumultuous night. As you prodded the bruise-free skin to check for any residual soreness, you figured a nightmare would have been more fitting, but none had come.

“Good morning, Mistress Keeda,” N2’s soft, high-pitched, mechanical voice said as he entered your room. He was holding a breakfast tray laden with what looked like muffins, scrambled nuna eggs, sliced shuura fruit, and your favorite tea.

You stretched and yawned before sitting up, realizing absently that you had slept a lot further into the morning than you normally did. “Morning, N2. What’s all this?” you asked, untangling yourself from your blankets and trying not to disturb Chuffs a second time.

“Oh, Mistress Sareel was insistent that you have something to eat before you leave,” N2 replied.

You rubbed your eyes groggily as N2 set the meal down on the bed beside you. Your stomach rumbled loudly as you smelled the fresh, berry-laden muffins and fluffy eggs, remembering how little you had eaten the night before.

Sipping your steaming tea and nibbling a muffin, you pulled your datapad into your lap and skimmed the news as you did every morning. Articles of the army’s latest victories and defeats rerouting trade and travel hyperspace lanes littered your screen, but you found your mind wandering back to your dream. It was fading quickly as you fully woke, but the sense of security of those imaginary arms around you had greatly lessened your anxiety.

“Is there anything you require before I begin the household chores, Mistress Keeda?” N2 asked, carrying your hamper from your bathroom.

“No, thank you, N2. You have done plenty for me already,” you replied, giving the droid a smile. You knew N2 could not actually feel emotions—he was simply programmed to respond—but you had always been polite to him.

As you began eating your breakfast, you sent a quick text comm to June, telling her you would be stopping by to check on the flowers, and you also took the opportunity to recount the details of your previous evening to her. You knew she was working, and therefore could not call you, but you received several long replies full of enraged expletives and exclamations anyway. June had always been hotheaded, but she would have blown off a lot of that steam by the time you arrived if you did not rush.

You took your time in eating and dressing, savoring the morning for once, and sinking back into your thoughts. Nothing about the war had slowed down the charity foundation’s work, but it had physically condensed it to Core Worlds as new battle maps were drawn every day in the Mid and Outer Rims. The charity had also been forced to cut its ties with Separatist worlds, though you knew some of the outposts on those worlds had continued to function without proper funds, manned now only by the very people they had been constructed to help.

With the organization now officially partnering with the GAR, however, the work could continue on Loyalist worlds outside of the Core. You had already received the information about the battalion you would be attached to for the foreseeable future, and you sincerely hoped the clones would accept working with you. Deep down, you had been a little worried they would always see you as an outsider.

An hour later found you stepping out of a taxi and onto a wide, sunny pedestrian walkway. The air was still chilly, but the sun managed to take the bite of the wind away. A long, tall greenhouse stretched down the length of the block before you, made entirely of glass walls and windows—just one of ten identical buildings laid out parallel to each other. A much smaller, older structure sat at the end of the first building, with a glowing sign projected onto the ancient-looking brick that read ‘Makano Greenhouses,’ and you made your way to the door.

The air inside the main shop was warm and damp, and it was like stepping into an entirely different world. The fresh scents of thousands of varieties of flowers, vegetables, fruits, and shrubbery the Makano family had grown for nearly two centuries in their greenhouses all wafted to greet you, spiriting you away from the ecological barrenness of Coruscant. You suspected the shuura fruit you had eaten for breakfast had come from these greenhouses.

Inhaling the perfumy fragrances deeply, you pressed the service button on the front desk, taking the time to admire all the glittering vases, fruit baskets, and pre-arranged flower displays already up for sale.

“Be there in a second, Keeds,” a light feminine voice said, echoing through a speaker. True to her word, a few moments later, a curvy young woman with bright ginger hair and equally bright hazel eyes came jogging in through the shop’s back door. “Fucking hell, girl,” she greeted in typical June fashion, wiping her hands on a rag and pulling you into a tight hug. “You nearly gave me a heart attack this morning with your message. How’re you holding up?”

“Hi, June,” you replied. You hugged her back, glad to see her initial, explosive temper had cooled already. “I’m coping, could’ve been worse,” you added dismissively. The residual anxiety must have still been shining through your expression because June cocked a disbelieving, fiery eyebrow at you.

June Makano was the latest generational owner of her family’s greenhouses and your best friend from your time at university. Although the greenhouses were an incredibly lucrative business over the centuries—being one of the last few remaining places on-world providing food and décor to Coruscant’s upper classes—the Makano family had used them as a cover for less legitimate business for just as long.

Despite your knowledge of this, June had become like a sister to you over the years. It still baffled you to no end how she was always able to know exactly how you felt, reading you like an open book. The way she pursed her lips at you was another classic indicator that she knew you were still not all right, so you huffed out a tired breath and rested against the counter, ignoring it.

“I’m not gonna make you talk about it,” June said quietly, “but you know I’m here if you need to.” She rubbed your arm affectionately, and the gesture warmed you. “You know I can still get Naiyo to deal with him, too, right?”

You chuckled dryly and rolled your eyes. “No, thanks. I don’t want your rum-running twin brother and his gangsters getting themselves into any trouble on my account.”

“The offer stands,” June said in a singsong voice, effectively dropping the subject. “Now, come on, let me show you the flowers for tomorrow.”

June led you through the back door and past the greenhouses to an enormous workshop. It looked equally as ancient as the main shop with all its exposed brick and dark steel rafters. Specialized droids hovered about, arranging several varieties of colorful flowers into garlands, bouquets, and centerpieces for the gala. You recognized some of the larger flower varieties, but there were also tiny, shining white blossoms on wiry vines mixed into the bouquets that were unfamiliar.

“Let your mum know the arrangements will be delivered this afternoon, and I’ll be there personally tonight to make sure they’re set up properly,” June said, taking a bundle of the blossoms and handing them to you. “These would look really pretty in your hair tomorrow.”

The little flowers gave off a delicate, but musky sweet scent, unlike anything you had smelled before. “What are these?” you asked curiously. They were surprisingly resilient, despite being so small.

“They’re a variety of peace blossoms from Naboo,” June explained, lifting the end of a garland into a transport crate. “Your mum asked for those particularly, so I had to use the hydroponic systems and pure light to get them to grow faster. She said it was to represent a quick end to the war with the help of all the relief volunteers.”

“Trust my mum to weave poetic symbolism into everything,” you mumbled, tilting the little flowers in your palm. Their sheen reflected a faint bluish-green hue beneath the milky petals. You heard June pause her work, and from her tone, you could tell she was worried. “You still don’t think I should have volunteered?”

June sighed and shook her shoulder-length orange hair out of its clip to readjust it. “I just don’t want you to get hurt or anything. Just because you’re only going on relief missions doesn’t mean it’s safe, Keeds. You could be attacked at any time.”

“You sound like my mum,” you muttered sardonically. You knew June meant well, but even she knew you had been screaming internally for months from being cooped up on Coruscant. “I’ll be with the troops the whole time. They’ll keep any droids out of my way, and I’m a decent shot myself,” you smirked.

June gave you a reproachful look, but she clipped her hair back up and shrugged. “Just… be careful. You’re my best friend.”

“I know, but you know exactly how badly I need to get off this kriffing planet. I need some fresh air, quite literally a different atmosphere. It’s beautiful here, in its own way, and it’ll always be home, but I need some change.” You stepped a bit closer and lowered your voice a notch, shaking your head, “And you were right before, June. I’m not entirely fine, especially after last night. Getting away right now is the best thing I can do.”

You could tell June was holding back her tears from the way she looked around rapidly and started chewing on her plump, pink bottom lip, so you pulled her into a more solid hug this time, aware that this may be the last chance you got before you shipped out after the gala. “I promise, I’ll be fine. When I get back, I’ll tell you all about it over caf at that greasy little diner you like so much.”

June chuckled, letting a tear escape as she embraced you tightly. “Hey, don’t shit on Dex’s. He’s got the best nerfburgers ever, just admit it.”

You parted afterward with a smile and a quick goodbye, leaving the greenhouses with the peace blossoms in hand. As you glanced down at them, you realized your nails could do with a manicure. Begrudgingly, you knew you needed to polish yourself up. Time to turn into a lady.

***

Tucking his towel around his hips, Fox wiped the steam from his mirror and pulled his razor out from his refresher cabinet. Two of the few benefits of being a Marshal Commander permanently stationed on Triple Zero were private quarters and access to hot water showers. It hardly made up for the multitudes of other issues he dealt with on a daily basis, but it was far better than the communal sonic showers his millions of brothers were forced to use in the field and on starships.

He wished he did not have to shave so soon, rather liking the way his slightly greying stubble always set him apart from his brothers, but he had no choice. He had to be as presentable as possible for the gala in a few hours, and he mentally cursed whichever senator had taken Thire from his post.

Fox resented the way many senators seemed to think the Corries were their personal bodyguards instead of elite clone shock troopers. The boys were constantly called upon, day and night, to escort senators and other public officials to wherever they wanted to go, regardless of the security details they were already provided. Even their underpaid aides were not called upon as often as the Corries were for menial tasks—the moment a senator needed to travel off-world or needed a kriffing lightbulb changed, they rang a Guardsman.

Pushing his dripping curls away from his face, Fox slathered his cheeks and jaw in shaving cream and began methodically scraping away his stubble, careful not to nick himself. He had finally managed to get a few hours of solid sleep after a brutally exhausting workout, and he had taken Thorn’s advice about dabbing some bacta under his eyes. He somehow looked a bit younger as his skin became smooth, and it reminded him of how young he technically was. Physically, he was only about twenty-five now, even if he felt like he was nearly a hundred most days.

Fox carefully eased a clean undershirt over his head, careful not to muss his freshly faded curls that he had slicked back into smooth waves. The ever-present greys in his once jet-black hair had ceased to bother him, especially because they seemed to be a date magnet on the incredibly rare occasions he took to venture out to 79s with his brothers.

He smiled to himself as he pulled on his dress greys, fondly remembering the night Cody and Wolffe had dragged him to the bar with every intention of getting him laid. They had no idea their youngest brother had spent the past year carefully observing the very politicians he loathed, watching their formal, charming interactions and quietly putting them into practice. He had a date within twenty minutes that night, and Cody and Wolffe’s jaws had been on the deck.

Part of his charm, he had learned, came with his expression of intention. Fox had never once led anyone on, making sure an unattached night was all a lady was to expect from him. It was not that he wanted to sleep around or that he did not have feelings, but he knew he had no time for a committed relationship—even if it never stopped him from wondering how nice one would be.

Fox rolled his muscular shoulders in the stiff, heavy fabric of his dress uniform and checked his appearance over one last time. Just another big fancy dinner. he thought to himself, tucking his cover under his arm and echoing Thorn’s words from a few days prior.

***

“You’re fidgeting,” your mother whispered concernedly as you exited the speeder after her.

You gnawed at the inside of your cheek as you looked around. The poshly dressed guests were arriving in droves, greeting each other with both genuine and faux smiles, la bise kisses, and graceful bows. As the gala’s unofficial host, you started to feel the pressure as eyes were beginning to turn toward you. The sickening clench of your stomach was hard to ignore as you slapped a practiced smile on your face. Silently, you resigned yourself to participating in high-class society, and you were sure the gooseflesh breaking out over your skin had nothing to do with the chill in the air.

“Just nerves,” you muttered, shivering slightly, and smoothing out your flowing dark green dress. You were glad you had chosen something with a loose skirt that you could both walk and breathe in as the latter felt rather difficult. Beneath your long hair, you felt your mother’s silk-gloved hand subtly adjust one of the X-crossed straps on your backless gown for you before looping your arm in hers.

“You’ve nothing to worry about tonight, darling. Just try to relax and enjoy yourself,” she said soothingly, ushering you inside and out of the chilly air.

As you made your way closer to the grand doors of the hall, you spied a few clones in their distinct red and white armor cleverly stationed in the shadows, and your nerves calmed a bit. Whereas many of Coruscant’s citizens had come to loathe the ever-present shock troopers, you found their presence to be a comfort, more so now than ever before. You wondered if the commander was among them, but before you could dwell on the thought, your mother was pulling you into the venue.

Her hand soothed along your bare forearm as you made your way into the dazzling hall, and the sight took your breath away. The hall was massive, and the cavernous, arching glass ceiling reflected thousands of fairy lights woven into the garlands and wreaths June had no doubt spent hours setting up.

The air was fragrant from the same little peace blossoms that were nestled in your fashionably twisted hair, and as the only source of light apart from delicate flickering candles on the dining tables, the tiny, softly twinkling lights created a calm ambiance that seemed to warm even the darkest corners of the hall. While you looked around, you noticed a familiar, friendly face illuminated by the glow.

“Oh, my dear, Keeda,” Henya greeted compassionately, coming around a large, ornately set dining table, and taking you into her arms.

You grinned happily for the first time that evening as the tall Twi’lek woman embraced you, and the soft fur of her shawl tickled your nose. “Hello, Auntie,” you replied.

“You look divine tonight. That dress does wonders for your eyes,” she complimented, but Henya’s striking yellow eyes held a trace of guilt as she pulled away. “May I steal her for a moment, Sareel?” she asked, turning to your mother.

“Of course, of course. I will find you later, Keeda,” your mother replied, giving you a quick peck on the cheek.

As your mother began graciously receiving the other guests, Henya took your hands in both of hers, and you could practically feel the emotion rippling off her. Even her long violet lekku were twitching restlessly as she searched for her words.

“You don’t need to apologize for anything, Auntie,” you said before she could speak. “What happened the other night, that’s not your fault.”

Henya sighed heavily, “I am still terribly sorry, my dear. You shouldn’t have had to endure that.” She paused for a moment, looking around before her eyes settled on a rather severe-looking couple taking flutes of dark blue, bubbling wine from a passing server. “I’m even more sorry to say that they would like to speak with you before the evening’s festivities begin.”

The pit in your stomach immediately gave way to a dull numbness that flooded through your limbs. The governor and his wife had come after all, but you were thankful there seemed to be no sign of their son. You breathed deeply, unlocked your knees, and felt your head clear. Might as well get this unpleasantry out of the way.

Striding forward with purpose, your father’s voice whispered in the back of your mind; Opportunity lies in even the most unlikely places. When he had spoken those words to you so long ago, you had not fully understood their meaning. But now, as Henya led you across the room, your sharp mind understood that the governor was about to ask something of you.

“Governor and Missus Gargeli, may I present Miss Keeda Ionza,” Henya said diplomatically.

While Governor Gargeli might have looked unyielding on the outside, his blue eyes were benevolent. His son had clearly inherited his looks from his father, but you refused to let it unnerve you.

“Miss Ionza, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he said authentically as he extended his hand to you.

“The pleasure is mine, Governor.” You shook his hand firmly, conveying your directness.

“It is an esteemed honor to be invited this evening,” he remarked, releasing you to allow you to shake hands with his wife. “Although, I do wish the circumstances of our meeting would have been less precarious,” Gargeli added softly and opened his arm to you. “May I?”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes as you were passed to yet another arm. Did people think you were unable to walk on your own? Despite being on his arm, you steered the governor to a quieter corner of the hall. You waited until you were sure the sharp click of your heels on the tiles was no longer audible to the other guests before pausing beside one of the massive bouquets that matched your hair.

The governor, for all his formal appearance, looked ashamed. “I want you to know that my wife and I do not condone our son’s actions,” Gargeli whispered gravely. “Pettri was brought up to be better than that, and I sincerely apologize for any harm that has befallen you.”

Pettri Gargeli. you finally remembered. That was that fucker’s name.

The governor’s Coruscanti accent was much thicker than your own, and you had to strain a bit to hear him over the growing hum of the other guests and the gentle classical music that was beginning to play. He had your full attention as he continued, “I also wanted to inform you personally that Pettri is no longer living on Coruscant, and he will not be returning. I’ve sent him back to my family’s homeworld, and he will be dealt with in a manner befitting his actions.”

You hid your relief well, only shifting your weight from one hip to the other as you took in the revelation, still surveying the incoming guests nonchalantly. You had been silently dreading seeing Pettri again, even in passing, and the weight of that fear dissipated from your shoulders. “I am grateful for the measures you have taken in resolving the situation, Governor.”

Gargeli tapped a finger on his glass rather anxiously as he scanned the room blankly. “I’m afraid I do have another motive for speaking to you privately this evening, Miss Ionza,” he confessed. He swiftly acquired another flute of bubbling blue wine from a passing attendant and handed it to you as a gesture.

Here we go. you thought, accepting the drink to let him know you were listening, and bracing yourself for his request. You already had an inkling of what it was.

“As you may know, the local elections in my district are not far off.” He paused to clear his throat to emphasize the point he was about to make. “If… rumor was to spread, a scandal such as this involving a member of my immediate family would potentially—”

“—Potentially negatively impact your reelection,” you interrupted gracefully, finally meeting the governor’s eyes again. Although the smile you wore was practiced and demure, your green eyes conveyed your perceptivity. “And if I were to guarantee my silence on the matter, perhaps our agreement could be mutually beneficial.”

An intrigued look crossed Gargeli’s aristocratic face, his thick mustache twitching up in interest. “Name your terms, Miss Ionza.”

Taking a long sip from your glass, you glanced back out across the room trying to look as casual as possible. “The Terreg Ionza Medical Foundation could do more work in your district if you would consider opening more public spaces to our volunteers and providing security,” you said lowly, your throat tightening a fraction as your father’s name passed your lips. “In the past, our volunteers have encountered significant resistance in underprivileged areas, largely due to threats of local gang violence. Not only would it guarantee my silence, but it would also benefit your constituents.”

The governor nodded pensively. “I assure you my campaign already supports the increased street surveillance in my district. I see the Coruscant Guard are here tonight,” he added as he skimmed over the room. “They have been immensely helpful in training new security forces, so any volunteers would be well protected. Perhaps my wife and I will become more regular contributors to the Foundation as well, to ensure their success.”

A wave of triumph surged through your heart as you raised your wine flute in a small toast. Despite how much you hated playing politics, you were rather reluctantly good at it. “To the mutually beneficial work of our organizations.”

“Hear, hear,” Gargeli replied, a formal smile full of admiration and respect for you working its way onto his face.

With a clink of your glasses, the deal was sealed. Gargeli would open his district more fully to the charity’s work, thousands of citizens would benefit from increased medical aid, and the charity would receive yet another new source of funds. All paid for with your silence.

“Please, Governor, enjoy the evening,” you said with a gentle, sweeping motion, effectively excusing yourself.

Gargeli gave you a refined bow before returning to his wife’s side, and you began mingling your way through the crowd. Several people whom you had worked with in the past stopped to chat with you, each offering their views on the latest cooperations with the GAR. Some approved, some did not, and some expressed their admiration for your willingness to volunteer, but each conversation seemed to draw on your energy reserves.

Even after dinner had been served—you were eternally grateful your mother had not chosen that awful seafood dish to be an option—and the dancing had begun, you were finding the evening to be rather tedious. You did your best to conceal it; however, there was only so much you could take.

Over the sounds of clinking glasses and light laughter filling the air, blending with the lilting music now echoing across the hall, you huffed out a weary sigh. You wished you had someone other than politicians and socialites to converse with—just someone who did not want anything from you. From the moment you stepped out of the speeder, tonight had felt more like work than the enjoyable evening you hoped for.

***

Fox froze and his heart stuttered against his ribs.

He knew from the moment he saw her; it was her. His eyes followed her every move as she wove between people, conversing briefly before moving on. They all parted for her, as though she were a goddess among mortals—even more beautiful than he remembered.

“The hell are you looking at, vod?” Thorn asked, noting Fox’s sudden change. His older brother’s heavy brows were nearly knit together, and his scarred lips were parted in an awestruck expression. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Blinking out of his stupor, Fox nodded in the young woman’s direction. “She’s here,” he whispered, almost disbelieving his own words.

Thorn studied the crowd from their secluded spot by the doorway to a large, covered veranda, trying to follow Fox’s eye line. “You’re gonna have to be more specific than that.”

“From th-the other night. She’s… uh… Long, dark hair, with little flowers. Green dress. It’s her,” Fox stammered.

His golden-haired brother looked back out to the crowd a second time, spotting her easily. “Oh, wow,” Thorn breathed. He knew Fox had not lied about her appearance a few days prior, but seeing her for himself, Thorn finally understood why Fox had been so taken with her. He snickered to himself because the Marshal Commander of the Coruscant Guard was currently staring like a love-struck shiny after their first night at 79s. “That’s really her?”

Fox just nodded. He could not look away. She wore a perfect, congenial smile like a mask and carried herself with the grace of a queen, but her closed-off, stiff body language made Fox want to throw himself between her and the rest of the room—if only to shield her again for a moment so she could breathe.

“Well, go talk to her, di’kut!” Thorn laughed, nudging his ori’vod with a sharp elbow. “She looks like she could use better company than these nat-borns.” Fox opened his mouth to protest, but Thorn stopped him. “Go. You’d be shocked to know the boys and I can actually survive without your constant vigilance for a while.”

Seeing her step out another door on the opposite side of the hall and onto the wrap-around veranda, Fox nearly sprinted out the door beside him—no thanks to a playful swat on the ass from Thorn. It felt like his heart was about to jump through his nose as he quickly strode to where she had withdrawn.

Okay… okay… What am I gonna say to her? he rambled internally. Just ask her how she is, yeah? Ask her if she’s all right. No, why would she be all right? It’s only been a few days since… No, no, just tell her… tell her she looks nice. She’d like to hear that. Right? Fuck. Fuck, I did not think this through! Nevertheless, his feet propelled him forward.

Fox had never had any issues talking to women before, so why was he so unexpectedly flustered now? He paused and pressed his back against the cool alabaster wall just before turning the final corner of the building. He straightened his spotless uniform and blew out a long sigh, puffing his cheeks. Pull yourself together, Fox. You’re a kriffing Marshal Commander. You can do this.

***

The muffled silence was a welcome relief as you stepped out of the hall and rested your hands against the sleek railing. The crowds had begun gathering around to watch those waltzing about on the dance floor, and the stronger liquor had begun flowing as a medley of desserts was served, but you had come outside to let Coruscant’s skyline dazzle you for the thousandth time instead.

Letting your eyes drift shut, you tried to savor the quiet moment, and soaked up the soft warmth radiating from the outdoor heater beside you. You could still see the twinkling fairy lights all around you from behind your eyelids, and you watched as they played across your blinded vision. If you had a chaise and a blanket, you would have been content to stay right there until the sun rose.

Tomorrow, there would be no skyline. There would only be the swirling blue and silver streaks of hyperspace, whisking you off to a war-torn world to deliver medical relief supplies, and you were eager for it. Like you had told June, Coruscant would always be home, but you needed to get away for a while.

Your moment was interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps that ceased a few yards behind you and to your left. You half expected to find yet another aristocrat asking you to dance when you opened your eyes, but you were shocked to your very core when you looked over your shoulder.

Him. It was him. The clone commander that had come to your aid.

You felt your eyes widen in surprise as he looked at you. He was clean-shaven now, and his tussled, greying curls had been elegantly styled back, but his honey-gold eyes still glimmered in the lights with the same care and warmth he had shown you just a few nights ago.

“You,” you breathed without thinking. Immediately, you cursed your impropriety and stumbled over your words. “I’m s-sorry. I-I meant—”

The commander cracked a roguish, bright smile, and his mouth pulled a touch more to the right because of the scar on his bottom lip. “It’s you,” he echoed softly, stepping closer. His voice was low and gravelly, and his eyes never left yours. “You look lovely tonight.”

He was trying to put you at ease, and you could not help the little grin that broke over your painted lips. “Thank you,” you replied, and you were powerless to stop the blush creeping up your cheeks. “Truthfully, I’d rather be elsewhere, though.”

“Really?” he asked, tossing his gaze back into the hall for a moment. “Even with all these fine, upstanding people here?” There was the slightest hint of sarcasm in his voice, and you instantly relaxed despite the sudden draft blowing across the veranda.

The commander came to stand beside you, blocking the breeze and looking out over the planet-wide city. Even while leaning down on the railing and without his signature armor, he was still so very tall and broad. His hard muscles filled out his uniform, pulling at the fabric and defining him perfectly. It made you wonder just how strong he was…

“Are you cold?” he asked thoughtfully.

You shook your head faintly as you were pulled out of your thoughts. You felt wholly safe beside him, as though he were an immovable wall protecting you from the chill in the air and from the prying eyes of anyone who dared to look at you the wrong way—just as he did before.

That inkling of guilt suddenly came crawling back. The last time you had seen this man, you had spoken so harshly to him, and you had feared you would never get the chance to apologize. “Commander, I… I never thanked you properly… for the other night,” you said rather sheepishly.

He gave you a slightly puzzled look and shook his head almost imperceptibly, his eyes immediately coming to rest on your face again. “There’s no need to thank me.”

“Yes, there is,” you insisted, gripping the railing. “You and your men helped me. Something much worse might’ve happened if you hadn’t been there, and I shouldn’t have been so coarse.”

“You had every right to be,” he assured. “I’m glad I was there to help you.”

You toyed with a silver ring on your index finger as you carried on, “In any case, it’s no excuse for my behavior. I hope you’ll accept my apology, Commander.”

He turned to face you fully, leaning casually on one elbow and eyeing you charmingly. “I will, on one condition.”

How can he still look so powerful when he’s relaxed like that? you asked yourself, waiting for his request. He had somehow changed the very air around you so quickly that you found yourself letting go of the ache in your chest.

“Tell me your name?”

Whatever he was doing to make you feel so calm was mesmerizing, but you could also tell he was being playful, so you decided to entertain him. You pursed your lips and gave him a cheeky grin. “All right then. Let’s see if you can tell if I’m lying or telling the truth. Have you ever played two truths and a lie?”

“Two truths and a lie?” he asked inquisitively.

You nodded, fidgeting with your ring again. “I’ll tell you three things about myself. If you guess the lie, I have to tell you the truth about the lie. If you guess wrong, it’s your turn.”

The commander cocked a brow at you and smirked. “Very well, ladies first.”

You chewed your lip for a moment in thought, before settling on your lie. “My mother is the chairwoman of the foundation hosting this gala. I had a pet tooka when I was a child. My name… is Alana. Which is the lie?”

The weight of the commander’s gaze was encapsulating. You felt drawn into the depths of those stunning eyes as he analyzed you. He left no inch of your face untouched with his gaze. “Your name isn’t Alana,” he said finally.

“You’re right,” you conceded with a giggle. “My name is Keeda.”

The commander did not say anything for a moment, but his expression noticeably softened. You were not sure he was going to say anything until he muttered a single strange word, one you suspected was not Basic.

“Sorry?” you asked.

“Mesh’la,” he repeated, a little louder the second time. “It’s Mando’a. It means ‘beautiful’.”

You were certain you were bright red with how hard you were blushing. His lips barely moved whenever he spoke, unlike so many others tonight that had tried to woo your attention with overly enunciated accents and pretty words. The true sincerity in his tone rang clear. His voice was so rich, like a lovely bass-baritone note—deep and smooth, matching the darkened gold of his irises. You could practically feel the resonance of it in your ears despite how softly his words were uttered, and you suddenly craved to hear it again.

“Y-your turn, Commander.”

He must have had his answers ready because he spoke without hesitation. “My favorite color is red. My name is Fox. I’m a particularly good dancer.”

You mulled that over. Would he lie about his name, too? you wondered. It seemed logical, but he could also have been trying to throw you off. He had never looked you in the eye at all, though, choosing to focus on the little flowers woven through your hair—undoubtedly the better liar between you.

Laughing lightly as you gave up trying to guess, you settled on his name. “I don’t think your name is Fox.”

He flashed that brilliant white smile again. It contrasted so beautifully against his bronzed skin, and for the first time, you realized that you were more dazzled by the handsome commander in front of you than the skyline you had come out to observe. His smile and eyes were even brighter than any of the lights twinkling around you, and he exuded an affection that quieted any troubles in your mind.

“My name is Fox,” he said truthfully.

“Fox,” you repeated, bowing your head in mock defeat. “You’ve bested me. Where’d you learn to lie so well?”

“You pick up a thing or two when you’re around politicians all—”

As if on cue, he was interrupted as a group of guests came out onto the veranda, laughing boisterously and talking amongst themselves. They were clearly trying to ward off the buzz they had going with the cool night air. Luckily, they wandered away to the other side of the hall, but the door they had opened let a new melody waft outside.

It was a slower tune, but just as grand and orchestral as the others that had been playing all evening. You swayed your weight from one foot to the other, feeling the skirt of your dress flutter around your legs.

It had been so long since you danced. Your thoughts wandered back to the last time your father had helped you push all the furniture out of the way and taught you the steps of several common waltzes in the middle of your living room.

“Dance with me?” Fox asked suddenly, holding out his hand to you.

When did he take his gloves off? “Another truth?” you asked, resting your hand in his palm. His hand was calloused and strong, but his fingers were long and warm as they closed around yours ever so tenderly.

The crowd had thinned a bit for the evening, and you suspected this would be one of the last dances of the night, but you were glad to share it with Fox. You gasped a little when you felt his other hand settle around your lower back beneath your hair. His fingertips felt like fire brushing against your air-cooled bare skin, but you settled into his hold easily as he began guiding you down the length of the veranda. The steps he chose were uncomplicated, but you were impressed with the natural skill he seemed to possess as he swept you down the length of the open space.

“You were definitely telling the truth,” you laughed, enjoying how easily you moved together.

He arched his left arm and twirled you out beneath it before stepping in and sweeping you back into his hold. “I have my brother to thank for that,” Fox admitted, slowing a fraction with the timing of the music.

“Don’t you have a million brothers?” you asked lightheartedly. Fox looked so different from the stoic commander you had first met. A single stray curl had fallen loose on his forehead as he spun you around himself, and he practically beamed at you.

“This one is special. He inherited all the natural dancing talent somehow, so we just copied him. He’s the commander of the 104th battalion.”

You nearly stumbled in surprise, gripping Fox’s burly shoulder for support, but he was quicker and caught you. He gathered you into a spin to let you recover, bringing your body flush to his. The rush of adrenaline you felt as Fox effortlessly lifted you right off your feet made everything a little fuzzy, but he kept you securely in his strong arms. You felt like a star could have exploded between you with the heat of your bodies pressed together, and you would have happily melted into it.

After gently resting you back on your feet, Fox was the first to break the contact—although he seemed incredibly reluctant to do so. But the music still played in the background, so he continued to lead you through the dance.

“I’m assigned to the 104th as their official volunteer,” you said quickly, remembering why you had stumbled in the first place.

Fox chuckled. “You’ll like Wolffe. We grew up together as batchmates. He’s very stubborn and gruff, but he has a good heart.”

“I look forward to meeting him.”

As the music ended, the hall burst into applause. The other dancers and guests began to say their goodbyes, but you simply stood there under the twinkling lights. You panted together from the exertion of the dance as he continued to hold you, and you drank in the woodsy, slightly spicy scent of him mixed with the fragrance of the flowers in your hair.

He was gently brushing the back of your hand with his calloused thumb, and you were about to thank him for the dance, but the commlink on his wrist beeped. Still holding your hand, he released your waist and turned his right wrist over to silence the beeping.

“Ah, forgive me. Duty calls.”

As his fingers brushed over the device, you noticed the knuckles on his right hand were slightly blotched with old bruises, but you put it aside in your mind. “I… I hope I’ll see you again, Fox.”

He grinned down at you and gave your fingers a delicate squeeze. “Me too. Be safe, Keeda. Do whatever Wolffe tells you to do.”

You felt a pang of longing as he released you and turned to join the other Guardsmen waiting in the shadows at the other end of the veranda. How long have they been standing there?

Suddenly, you remembered and called out to him, “Wait, Fox!” He was immediately before you again with a questioning look on his face. “Please, before you go… what’s your favorite color?”

Although he virtually towered over you, Fox took your hand again and bowed slightly, capturing your gaze once more. His lips were warm as he pressed an impossibly soft kiss against the thin skin of your knuckles, and a mixture of shock and delight flooded through your body. Smiling brilliantly at you one last time, he replied, “Green.”

Taglist: @ariadnes-red-thread @twistedstitcher27 @rexxdjarin @wizardofrozz @moodymisty @ellichonkasaurusrex @ttzamara @nekotaetae @misogirl828 @wild-karrde @kaminocasey

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[ariadnes-red-thread]

Erin I’m so mad at myself that it took me so long to read it but I wanted to have time to sit down and read it and BOY AM I GLAD I DID 😍

1) I WOULD DIE FOR JUNE. I love her. The way she would fight for Keeda but knows when and how to comfort her… she has my WHOLE heart.

2) The way Keeda and Fox both have the same reaction to each other 😭😭 They’re both so head over heels before they even saw hello and I’m OBSESSED with their love ❤️

3) THE ENDING KILLED ME. ABSOLUTELY SWOONING.

I MEAN….

I’m so in love with this story and I can’t wait to see where it goes! Especially with what you do with Wolffe, the 104th, and Keeda.

Sweet True Lies: Chapter 3

Two Truths and a Lie

Paring(s): Fox x OC: Keeda Ionza (FINALLY!)

Characters: F!Reader/OC: Keeda Ionza, OC: June Makano, Commander Fox, Commander Thorn

Summary: Gala time!

Rating: This chapter is G (series is rated E)

Warnings: Light Angst, Fluff, Romantic Fluff

Word Count: 7.2k

Ao3 link

A/N: Hello and welcome to chapter 3! Sorry it took so long to write, but hopefully, it will all be worth it!

There is another new OC I'm bringing into this fic. Her name is June Makano. Check her out here!

Reblogs are greatly appreciated. Enjoy!

Two Truths and a Lie

You gasped as you jerked yourself awake, looking around and briefly wondering where you were. You’re in your old room. Relax. You’re okay. you told yourself as you got your bearings.

An annoyed meow came from the black-striped lump of tan fur next to your feet as you reached over and grabbed the remote on your nightstand, reducing the dark opaque tint of your windows to let in the morning light. “Sorry, Chuffs,” you apologized to your mother’s lazy tooka cat.

You squeezed your eyes shut against the harsh light bouncing off Coruscant's surface, and nestled yourself back into your cloudy pillows, not quite ready to leave the warmth of your large bed. Chuffs stood up briefly and stretched languidly as the light reached her, giving you a curious look before settling back down in her warm spot with a purr.

Scrunching your fingers through your tangled hair as you took in the morning, your thoughts wandered back to the dream you had been having. It had not been unpleasant—quite the opposite: Someone’s strong arms had pulled you close with whispers of reassurance and safety, enveloping you with so much warmth you could have melted into them.

You mused over it for a moment, twisting a bit to look at your upper arm and wondering why you had such a comforting dream after such a tumultuous night. As you prodded the bruise-free skin to check for any residual soreness, you figured a nightmare would have been more fitting, but none had come.

“Good morning, Mistress Keeda,” N2’s soft, high-pitched, mechanical voice said as he entered your room. He was holding a breakfast tray laden with what looked like muffins, scrambled nuna eggs, sliced shuura fruit, and your favorite tea.

You stretched and yawned before sitting up, realizing absently that you had slept a lot further into the morning than you normally did. “Morning, N2. What’s all this?” you asked, untangling yourself from your blankets and trying not to disturb Chuffs a second time.

“Oh, Mistress Sareel was insistent that you have something to eat before you leave,” N2 replied.

You rubbed your eyes groggily as N2 set the meal down on the bed beside you. Your stomach rumbled loudly as you smelled the fresh, berry-laden muffins and fluffy eggs, remembering how little you had eaten the night before.

Sipping your steaming tea and nibbling a muffin, you pulled your datapad into your lap and skimmed the news as you did every morning. Articles of the army’s latest victories and defeats rerouting trade and travel hyperspace lanes littered your screen, but you found your mind wandering back to your dream. It was fading quickly as you fully woke, but the sense of security of those imaginary arms around you had greatly lessened your anxiety.

“Is there anything you require before I begin the household chores, Mistress Keeda?” N2 asked, carrying your hamper from your bathroom.

“No, thank you, N2. You have done plenty for me already,” you replied, giving the droid a smile. You knew N2 could not actually feel emotions—he was simply programmed to respond—but you had always been polite to him.

As you began eating your breakfast, you sent a quick text comm to June, telling her you would be stopping by to check on the flowers, and you also took the opportunity to recount the details of your previous evening to her. You knew she was working, and therefore could not call you, but you received several long replies full of enraged expletives and exclamations anyway. June had always been hotheaded, but she would have blown off a lot of that steam by the time you arrived if you did not rush.

You took your time in eating and dressing, savoring the morning for once, and sinking back into your thoughts. Nothing about the war had slowed down the charity foundation’s work, but it had physically condensed it to Core Worlds as new battle maps were drawn every day in the Mid and Outer Rims. The charity had also been forced to cut its ties with Separatist worlds, though you knew some of the outposts on those worlds had continued to function without proper funds, manned now only by the very people they had been constructed to help.

With the organization now officially partnering with the GAR, however, the work could continue on Loyalist worlds outside of the Core. You had already received the information about the battalion you would be attached to for the foreseeable future, and you sincerely hoped the clones would accept working with you. Deep down, you had been a little worried they would always see you as an outsider.

An hour later found you stepping out of a taxi and onto a wide, sunny pedestrian walkway. The air was still chilly, but the sun managed to take the bite of the wind away. A long, tall greenhouse stretched down the length of the block before you, made entirely of glass walls and windows—just one of ten identical buildings laid out parallel to each other. A much smaller, older structure sat at the end of the first building, with a glowing sign projected onto the ancient-looking brick that read ‘Makano Greenhouses,’ and you made your way to the door.

The air inside the main shop was warm and damp, and it was like stepping into an entirely different world. The fresh scents of thousands of varieties of flowers, vegetables, fruits, and shrubbery the Makano family had grown for nearly two centuries in their greenhouses all wafted to greet you, spiriting you away from the ecological barrenness of Coruscant. You suspected the shuura fruit you had eaten for breakfast had come from these greenhouses.

Inhaling the perfumy fragrances deeply, you pressed the service button on the front desk, taking the time to admire all the glittering vases, fruit baskets, and pre-arranged flower displays already up for sale.

“Be there in a second, Keeds,” a light feminine voice said, echoing through a speaker. True to her word, a few moments later, a curvy young woman with bright ginger hair and equally bright hazel eyes came jogging in through the shop’s back door. “Fucking hell, girl,” she greeted in typical June fashion, wiping her hands on a rag and pulling you into a tight hug. “You nearly gave me a heart attack this morning with your message. How’re you holding up?”

“Hi, June,” you replied. You hugged her back, glad to see her initial, explosive temper had cooled already. “I’m coping, could’ve been worse,” you added dismissively. The residual anxiety must have still been shining through your expression because June cocked a disbelieving, fiery eyebrow at you.

June Makano was the latest generational owner of her family’s greenhouses and your best friend from your time at university. Although the greenhouses were an incredibly lucrative business over the centuries—being one of the last few remaining places on-world providing food and décor to Coruscant’s upper classes—the Makano family had used them as a cover for less legitimate business for just as long.

Despite your knowledge of this, June had become like a sister to you over the years. It still baffled you to no end how she was always able to know exactly how you felt, reading you like an open book. The way she pursed her lips at you was another classic indicator that she knew you were still not all right, so you huffed out a tired breath and rested against the counter, ignoring it.

“I’m not gonna make you talk about it,” June said quietly, “but you know I’m here if you need to.” She rubbed your arm affectionately, and the gesture warmed you. “You know I can still get Naiyo to deal with him, too, right?”

You chuckled dryly and rolled your eyes. “No, thanks. I don’t want your rum-running twin brother and his gangsters getting themselves into any trouble on my account.”

“The offer stands,” June said in a singsong voice, effectively dropping the subject. “Now, come on, let me show you the flowers for tomorrow.”

June led you through the back door and past the greenhouses to an enormous workshop. It looked equally as ancient as the main shop with all its exposed brick and dark steel rafters. Specialized droids hovered about, arranging several varieties of colorful flowers into garlands, bouquets, and centerpieces for the gala. You recognized some of the larger flower varieties, but there were also tiny, shining white blossoms on wiry vines mixed into the bouquets that were unfamiliar.

“Let your mum know the arrangements will be delivered this afternoon, and I’ll be there personally tonight to make sure they’re set up properly,” June said, taking a bundle of the blossoms and handing them to you. “These would look really pretty in your hair tomorrow.”

The little flowers gave off a delicate, but musky sweet scent, unlike anything you had smelled before. “What are these?” you asked curiously. They were surprisingly resilient, despite being so small.

“They’re a variety of peace blossoms from Naboo,” June explained, lifting the end of a garland into a transport crate. “Your mum asked for those particularly, so I had to use the hydroponic systems and pure light to get them to grow faster. She said it was to represent a quick end to the war with the help of all the relief volunteers.”

“Trust my mum to weave poetic symbolism into everything,” you mumbled, tilting the little flowers in your palm. Their sheen reflected a faint bluish-green hue beneath the milky petals. You heard June pause her work, and from her tone, you could tell she was worried. “You still don’t think I should have volunteered?”

June sighed and shook her shoulder-length orange hair out of its clip to readjust it. “I just don’t want you to get hurt or anything. Just because you’re only going on relief missions doesn’t mean it’s safe, Keeds. You could be attacked at any time.”

“You sound like my mum,” you muttered sardonically. You knew June meant well, but even she knew you had been screaming internally for months from being cooped up on Coruscant. “I’ll be with the troops the whole time. They’ll keep any droids out of my way, and I’m a decent shot myself,” you smirked.

June gave you a reproachful look, but she clipped her hair back up and shrugged. “Just… be careful. You’re my best friend.”

“I know, but you know exactly how badly I need to get off this kriffing planet. I need some fresh air, quite literally a different atmosphere. It’s beautiful here, in its own way, and it’ll always be home, but I need some change.” You stepped a bit closer and lowered your voice a notch, shaking your head, “And you were right before, June. I’m not entirely fine, especially after last night. Getting away right now is the best thing I can do.”

You could tell June was holding back her tears from the way she looked around rapidly and started chewing on her plump, pink bottom lip, so you pulled her into a more solid hug this time, aware that this may be the last chance you got before you shipped out after the gala. “I promise, I’ll be fine. When I get back, I’ll tell you all about it over caf at that greasy little diner you like so much.”

June chuckled, letting a tear escape as she embraced you tightly. “Hey, don’t shit on Dex’s. He’s got the best nerfburgers ever, just admit it.”

You parted afterward with a smile and a quick goodbye, leaving the greenhouses with the peace blossoms in hand. As you glanced down at them, you realized your nails could do with a manicure. Begrudgingly, you knew you needed to polish yourself up. Time to turn into a lady.

***

Tucking his towel around his hips, Fox wiped the steam from his mirror and pulled his razor out from his refresher cabinet. Two of the few benefits of being a Marshal Commander permanently stationed on Triple Zero were private quarters and access to hot water showers. It hardly made up for the multitudes of other issues he dealt with on a daily basis, but it was far better than the communal sonic showers his millions of brothers were forced to use in the field and on starships.

He wished he did not have to shave so soon, rather liking the way his slightly greying stubble always set him apart from his brothers, but he had no choice. He had to be as presentable as possible for the gala in a few hours, and he mentally cursed whichever senator had taken Thire from his post.

Fox resented the way many senators seemed to think the Corries were their personal bodyguards instead of elite clone shock troopers. The boys were constantly called upon, day and night, to escort senators and other public officials to wherever they wanted to go, regardless of the security details they were already provided. Even their underpaid aides were not called upon as often as the Corries were for menial tasks—the moment a senator needed to travel off-world or needed a kriffing lightbulb changed, they rang a Guardsman.

Pushing his dripping curls away from his face, Fox slathered his cheeks and jaw in shaving cream and began methodically scraping away his stubble, careful not to nick himself. He had finally managed to get a few hours of solid sleep after a brutally exhausting workout, and he had taken Thorn’s advice about dabbing some bacta under his eyes. He somehow looked a bit younger as his skin became smooth, and it reminded him of how young he technically was. Physically, he was only about twenty-five now, even if he felt like he was nearly a hundred most days.

Fox carefully eased a clean undershirt over his head, careful not to muss his freshly faded curls that he had slicked back into smooth waves. The ever-present greys in his once jet-black hair had ceased to bother him, especially because they seemed to be a date magnet on the incredibly rare occasions he took to venture out to 79s with his brothers.

He smiled to himself as he pulled on his dress greys, fondly remembering the night Cody and Wolffe had dragged him to the bar with every intention of getting him laid. They had no idea their youngest brother had spent the past year carefully observing the very politicians he loathed, watching their formal, charming interactions and quietly putting them into practice. He had a date within twenty minutes that night, and Cody and Wolffe’s jaws had been on the deck.

Part of his charm, he had learned, came with his expression of intention. Fox had never once led anyone on, making sure an unattached night was all a lady was to expect from him. It was not that he wanted to sleep around or that he did not have feelings, but he knew he had no time for a committed relationship—even if it never stopped him from wondering how nice one would be.

Fox rolled his muscular shoulders in the stiff, heavy fabric of his dress uniform and checked his appearance over one last time. Just another big fancy dinner. he thought to himself, tucking his cover under his arm and echoing Thorn’s words from a few days prior.

***

“You’re fidgeting,” your mother whispered concernedly as you exited the speeder after her.

You gnawed at the inside of your cheek as you looked around. The poshly dressed guests were arriving in droves, greeting each other with both genuine and faux smiles, la bise kisses, and graceful bows. As the gala’s unofficial host, you started to feel the pressure as eyes were beginning to turn toward you. The sickening clench of your stomach was hard to ignore as you slapped a practiced smile on your face. Silently, you resigned yourself to participating in high-class society, and you were sure the gooseflesh breaking out over your skin had nothing to do with the chill in the air.

“Just nerves,” you muttered, shivering slightly, and smoothing out your flowing dark green dress. You were glad you had chosen something with a loose skirt that you could both walk and breathe in as the latter felt rather difficult. Beneath your long hair, you felt your mother’s silk-gloved hand subtly adjust one of the X-crossed straps on your backless gown for you before looping your arm in hers.

“You’ve nothing to worry about tonight, darling. Just try to relax and enjoy yourself,” she said soothingly, ushering you inside and out of the chilly air.

As you made your way closer to the grand doors of the hall, you spied a few clones in their distinct red and white armor cleverly stationed in the shadows, and your nerves calmed a bit. Whereas many of Coruscant’s citizens had come to loathe the ever-present shock troopers, you found their presence to be a comfort, more so now than ever before. You wondered if the commander was among them, but before you could dwell on the thought, your mother was pulling you into the venue.

Her hand soothed along your bare forearm as you made your way into the dazzling hall, and the sight took your breath away. The hall was massive, and the cavernous, arching glass ceiling reflected thousands of fairy lights woven into the garlands and wreaths June had no doubt spent hours setting up.

The air was fragrant from the same little peace blossoms that were nestled in your fashionably twisted hair, and as the only source of light apart from delicate flickering candles on the dining tables, the tiny, softly twinkling lights created a calm ambiance that seemed to warm even the darkest corners of the hall. While you looked around, you noticed a familiar, friendly face illuminated by the glow.

“Oh, my dear, Keeda,” Henya greeted compassionately, coming around a large, ornately set dining table, and taking you into her arms.

You grinned happily for the first time that evening as the tall Twi’lek woman embraced you, and the soft fur of her shawl tickled your nose. “Hello, Auntie,” you replied.

“You look divine tonight. That dress does wonders for your eyes,” she complimented, but Henya’s striking yellow eyes held a trace of guilt as she pulled away. “May I steal her for a moment, Sareel?” she asked, turning to your mother.

“Of course, of course. I will find you later, Keeda,” your mother replied, giving you a quick peck on the cheek.

As your mother began graciously receiving the other guests, Henya took your hands in both of hers, and you could practically feel the emotion rippling off her. Even her long violet lekku were twitching restlessly as she searched for her words.

“You don’t need to apologize for anything, Auntie,” you said before she could speak. “What happened the other night, that’s not your fault.”

Henya sighed heavily, “I am still terribly sorry, my dear. You shouldn’t have had to endure that.” She paused for a moment, looking around before her eyes settled on a rather severe-looking couple taking flutes of dark blue, bubbling wine from a passing server. “I’m even more sorry to say that they would like to speak with you before the evening’s festivities begin.”

The pit in your stomach immediately gave way to a dull numbness that flooded through your limbs. The governor and his wife had come after all, but you were thankful there seemed to be no sign of their son. You breathed deeply, unlocked your knees, and felt your head clear. Might as well get this unpleasantry out of the way.

Striding forward with purpose, your father’s voice whispered in the back of your mind; Opportunity lies in even the most unlikely places. When he had spoken those words to you so long ago, you had not fully understood their meaning. But now, as Henya led you across the room, your sharp mind understood that the governor was about to ask something of you.

“Governor and Missus Gargeli, may I present Miss Keeda Ionza,” Henya said diplomatically.

While Governor Gargeli might have looked unyielding on the outside, his blue eyes were benevolent. His son had clearly inherited his looks from his father, but you refused to let it unnerve you.

“Miss Ionza, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he said authentically as he extended his hand to you.

“The pleasure is mine, Governor.” You shook his hand firmly, conveying your directness.

“It is an esteemed honor to be invited this evening,” he remarked, releasing you to allow you to shake hands with his wife. “Although, I do wish the circumstances of our meeting would have been less precarious,” Gargeli added softly and opened his arm to you. “May I?”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes as you were passed to yet another arm. Did people think you were unable to walk on your own? Despite being on his arm, you steered the governor to a quieter corner of the hall. You waited until you were sure the sharp click of your heels on the tiles was no longer audible to the other guests before pausing beside one of the massive bouquets that matched your hair.

The governor, for all his formal appearance, looked ashamed. “I want you to know that my wife and I do not condone our son’s actions,” Gargeli whispered gravely. “Pettri was brought up to be better than that, and I sincerely apologize for any harm that has befallen you.”

Pettri Gargeli. you finally remembered. That was that fucker’s name.

The governor’s Coruscanti accent was much thicker than your own, and you had to strain a bit to hear him over the growing hum of the other guests and the gentle classical music that was beginning to play. He had your full attention as he continued, “I also wanted to inform you personally that Pettri is no longer living on Coruscant, and he will not be returning. I’ve sent him back to my family’s homeworld, and he will be dealt with in a manner befitting his actions.”

You hid your relief well, only shifting your weight from one hip to the other as you took in the revelation, still surveying the incoming guests nonchalantly. You had been silently dreading seeing Pettri again, even in passing, and the weight of that fear dissipated from your shoulders. “I am grateful for the measures you have taken in resolving the situation, Governor.”

Gargeli tapped a finger on his glass rather anxiously as he scanned the room blankly. “I’m afraid I do have another motive for speaking to you privately this evening, Miss Ionza,” he confessed. He swiftly acquired another flute of bubbling blue wine from a passing attendant and handed it to you as a gesture.

Here we go. you thought, accepting the drink to let him know you were listening, and bracing yourself for his request. You already had an inkling of what it was.

“As you may know, the local elections in my district are not far off.” He paused to clear his throat to emphasize the point he was about to make. “If… rumor was to spread, a scandal such as this involving a member of my immediate family would potentially—”

“—Potentially negatively impact your reelection,” you interrupted gracefully, finally meeting the governor’s eyes again. Although the smile you wore was practiced and demure, your green eyes conveyed your perceptivity. “And if I were to guarantee my silence on the matter, perhaps our agreement could be mutually beneficial.”

An intrigued look crossed Gargeli’s aristocratic face, his thick mustache twitching up in interest. “Name your terms, Miss Ionza.”

Taking a long sip from your glass, you glanced back out across the room trying to look as casual as possible. “The Terreg Ionza Medical Foundation could do more work in your district if you would consider opening more public spaces to our volunteers and providing security,” you said lowly, your throat tightening a fraction as your father’s name passed your lips. “In the past, our volunteers have encountered significant resistance in underprivileged areas, largely due to threats of local gang violence. Not only would it guarantee my silence, but it would also benefit your constituents.”

The governor nodded pensively. “I assure you my campaign already supports the increased street surveillance in my district. I see the Coruscant Guard are here tonight,” he added as he skimmed over the room. “They have been immensely helpful in training new security forces, so any volunteers would be well protected. Perhaps my wife and I will become more regular contributors to the Foundation as well, to ensure their success.”

A wave of triumph surged through your heart as you raised your wine flute in a small toast. Despite how much you hated playing politics, you were rather reluctantly good at it. “To the mutually beneficial work of our organizations.”

“Hear, hear,” Gargeli replied, a formal smile full of admiration and respect for you working its way onto his face.

With a clink of your glasses, the deal was sealed. Gargeli would open his district more fully to the charity’s work, thousands of citizens would benefit from increased medical aid, and the charity would receive yet another new source of funds. All paid for with your silence.

“Please, Governor, enjoy the evening,” you said with a gentle, sweeping motion, effectively excusing yourself.

Gargeli gave you a refined bow before returning to his wife’s side, and you began mingling your way through the crowd. Several people whom you had worked with in the past stopped to chat with you, each offering their views on the latest cooperations with the GAR. Some approved, some did not, and some expressed their admiration for your willingness to volunteer, but each conversation seemed to draw on your energy reserves.

Even after dinner had been served—you were eternally grateful your mother had not chosen that awful seafood dish to be an option—and the dancing had begun, you were finding the evening to be rather tedious. You did your best to conceal it; however, there was only so much you could take.

Over the sounds of clinking glasses and light laughter filling the air, blending with the lilting music now echoing across the hall, you huffed out a weary sigh. You wished you had someone other than politicians and socialites to converse with—just someone who did not want anything from you. From the moment you stepped out of the speeder, tonight had felt more like work than the enjoyable evening you hoped for.

***

Fox froze and his heart stuttered against his ribs.

He knew from the moment he saw her; it was her. His eyes followed her every move as she wove between people, conversing briefly before moving on. They all parted for her, as though she were a goddess among mortals—even more beautiful than he remembered.

“The hell are you looking at, vod?” Thorn asked, noting Fox’s sudden change. His older brother’s heavy brows were nearly knit together, and his scarred lips were parted in an awestruck expression. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Blinking out of his stupor, Fox nodded in the young woman’s direction. “She’s here,” he whispered, almost disbelieving his own words.

Thorn studied the crowd from their secluded spot by the doorway to a large, covered veranda, trying to follow Fox’s eye line. “You’re gonna have to be more specific than that.”

“From th-the other night. She’s… uh… Long, dark hair, with little flowers. Green dress. It’s her,” Fox stammered.

His golden-haired brother looked back out to the crowd a second time, spotting her easily. “Oh, wow,” Thorn breathed. He knew Fox had not lied about her appearance a few days prior, but seeing her for himself, Thorn finally understood why Fox had been so taken with her. He snickered to himself because the Marshal Commander of the Coruscant Guard was currently staring like a love-struck shiny after their first night at 79s. “That’s really her?”

Fox just nodded. He could not look away. She wore a perfect, congenial smile like a mask and carried herself with the grace of a queen, but her closed-off, stiff body language made Fox want to throw himself between her and the rest of the room—if only to shield her again for a moment so she could breathe.

“Well, go talk to her, di’kut!” Thorn laughed, nudging his ori’vod with a sharp elbow. “She looks like she could use better company than these nat-borns.” Fox opened his mouth to protest, but Thorn stopped him. “Go. You’d be shocked to know the boys and I can actually survive without your constant vigilance for a while.”

Seeing her step out another door on the opposite side of the hall and onto the wrap-around veranda, Fox nearly sprinted out the door beside him—no thanks to a playful swat on the ass from Thorn. It felt like his heart was about to jump through his nose as he quickly strode to where she had withdrawn.

Okay… okay… What am I gonna say to her? he rambled internally. Just ask her how she is, yeah? Ask her if she’s all right. No, why would she be all right? It’s only been a few days since… No, no, just tell her… tell her she looks nice. She’d like to hear that. Right? Fuck. Fuck, I did not think this through! Nevertheless, his feet propelled him forward.

Fox had never had any issues talking to women before, so why was he so unexpectedly flustered now? He paused and pressed his back against the cool alabaster wall just before turning the final corner of the building. He straightened his spotless uniform and blew out a long sigh, puffing his cheeks. Pull yourself together, Fox. You’re a kriffing Marshal Commander. You can do this.

***

The muffled silence was a welcome relief as you stepped out of the hall and rested your hands against the sleek railing. The crowds had begun gathering around to watch those waltzing about on the dance floor, and the stronger liquor had begun flowing as a medley of desserts was served, but you had come outside to let Coruscant’s skyline dazzle you for the thousandth time instead.

Letting your eyes drift shut, you tried to savor the quiet moment, and soaked up the soft warmth radiating from the outdoor heater beside you. You could still see the twinkling fairy lights all around you from behind your eyelids, and you watched as they played across your blinded vision. If you had a chaise and a blanket, you would have been content to stay right there until the sun rose.

Tomorrow, there would be no skyline. There would only be the swirling blue and silver streaks of hyperspace, whisking you off to a war-torn world to deliver medical relief supplies, and you were eager for it. Like you had told June, Coruscant would always be home, but you needed to get away for a while.

Your moment was interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps that ceased a few yards behind you and to your left. You half expected to find yet another aristocrat asking you to dance when you opened your eyes, but you were shocked to your very core when you looked over your shoulder.

Him. It was him. The clone commander that had come to your aid.

You felt your eyes widen in surprise as he looked at you. He was clean-shaven now, and his tussled, greying curls had been elegantly styled back, but his honey-gold eyes still glimmered in the lights with the same care and warmth he had shown you just a few nights ago.

“You,” you breathed without thinking. Immediately, you cursed your impropriety and stumbled over your words. “I’m s-sorry. I-I meant—”

The commander cracked a roguish, bright smile, and his mouth pulled a touch more to the right because of the scar on his bottom lip. “It’s you,” he echoed softly, stepping closer. His voice was low and gravelly, and his eyes never left yours. “You look lovely tonight.”

He was trying to put you at ease, and you could not help the little grin that broke over your painted lips. “Thank you,” you replied, and you were powerless to stop the blush creeping up your cheeks. “Truthfully, I’d rather be elsewhere, though.”

“Really?” he asked, tossing his gaze back into the hall for a moment. “Even with all these fine, upstanding people here?” There was the slightest hint of sarcasm in his voice, and you instantly relaxed despite the sudden draft blowing across the veranda.

The commander came to stand beside you, blocking the breeze and looking out over the planet-wide city. Even while leaning down on the railing and without his signature armor, he was still so very tall and broad. His hard muscles filled out his uniform, pulling at the fabric and defining him perfectly. It made you wonder just how strong he was…

“Are you cold?” he asked thoughtfully.

You shook your head faintly as you were pulled out of your thoughts. You felt wholly safe beside him, as though he were an immovable wall protecting you from the chill in the air and from the prying eyes of anyone who dared to look at you the wrong way—just as he did before.

That inkling of guilt suddenly came crawling back. The last time you had seen this man, you had spoken so harshly to him, and you had feared you would never get the chance to apologize. “Commander, I… I never thanked you properly… for the other night,” you said rather sheepishly.

He gave you a slightly puzzled look and shook his head almost imperceptibly, his eyes immediately coming to rest on your face again. “There’s no need to thank me.”

“Yes, there is,” you insisted, gripping the railing. “You and your men helped me. Something much worse might’ve happened if you hadn’t been there, and I shouldn’t have been so coarse.”

“You had every right to be,” he assured. “I’m glad I was there to help you.”

You toyed with a silver ring on your index finger as you carried on, “In any case, it’s no excuse for my behavior. I hope you’ll accept my apology, Commander.”

He turned to face you fully, leaning casually on one elbow and eyeing you charmingly. “I will, on one condition.”

How can he still look so powerful when he’s relaxed like that? you asked yourself, waiting for his request. He had somehow changed the very air around you so quickly that you found yourself letting go of the ache in your chest.

“Tell me your name?”

Whatever he was doing to make you feel so calm was mesmerizing, but you could also tell he was being playful, so you decided to entertain him. You pursed your lips and gave him a cheeky grin. “All right then. Let’s see if you can tell if I’m lying or telling the truth. Have you ever played two truths and a lie?”

“Two truths and a lie?” he asked inquisitively.

You nodded, fidgeting with your ring again. “I’ll tell you three things about myself. If you guess the lie, I have to tell you the truth about the lie. If you guess wrong, it’s your turn.”

The commander cocked a brow at you and smirked. “Very well, ladies first.”

You chewed your lip for a moment in thought, before settling on your lie. “My mother is the chairwoman of the foundation hosting this gala. I had a pet tooka when I was a child. My name… is Alana. Which is the lie?”

The weight of the commander’s gaze was encapsulating. You felt drawn into the depths of those stunning eyes as he analyzed you. He left no inch of your face untouched with his gaze. “Your name isn’t Alana,” he said finally.

“You’re right,” you conceded with a giggle. “My name is Keeda.”

The commander did not say anything for a moment, but his expression noticeably softened. You were not sure he was going to say anything until he muttered a single strange word, one you suspected was not Basic.

“Sorry?” you asked.

“Mesh’la,” he repeated, a little louder the second time. “It’s Mando’a. It means ‘beautiful’.”

You were certain you were bright red with how hard you were blushing. His lips barely moved whenever he spoke, unlike so many others tonight that had tried to woo your attention with overly enunciated accents and pretty words. The true sincerity in his tone rang clear. His voice was so rich, like a lovely bass-baritone note—deep and smooth, matching the darkened gold of his irises. You could practically feel the resonance of it in your ears despite how softly his words were uttered, and you suddenly craved to hear it again.

“Y-your turn, Commander.”

He must have had his answers ready because he spoke without hesitation. “My favorite color is red. My name is Fox. I’m a particularly good dancer.”

You mulled that over. Would he lie about his name, too? you wondered. It seemed logical, but he could also have been trying to throw you off. He had never looked you in the eye at all, though, choosing to focus on the little flowers woven through your hair—undoubtedly the better liar between you.

Laughing lightly as you gave up trying to guess, you settled on his name. “I don’t think your name is Fox.”

He flashed that brilliant white smile again. It contrasted so beautifully against his bronzed skin, and for the first time, you realized that you were more dazzled by the handsome commander in front of you than the skyline you had come out to observe. His smile and eyes were even brighter than any of the lights twinkling around you, and he exuded an affection that quieted any troubles in your mind.

“My name is Fox,” he said truthfully.

“Fox,” you repeated, bowing your head in mock defeat. “You’ve bested me. Where’d you learn to lie so well?”

“You pick up a thing or two when you’re around politicians all—”

As if on cue, he was interrupted as a group of guests came out onto the veranda, laughing boisterously and talking amongst themselves. They were clearly trying to ward off the buzz they had going with the cool night air. Luckily, they wandered away to the other side of the hall, but the door they had opened let a new melody waft outside.

It was a slower tune, but just as grand and orchestral as the others that had been playing all evening. You swayed your weight from one foot to the other, feeling the skirt of your dress flutter around your legs.

It had been so long since you danced. Your thoughts wandered back to the last time your father had helped you push all the furniture out of the way and taught you the steps of several common waltzes in the middle of your living room.

“Dance with me?” Fox asked suddenly, holding out his hand to you.

When did he take his gloves off? “Another truth?” you asked, resting your hand in his palm. His hand was calloused and strong, but his fingers were long and warm as they closed around yours ever so tenderly.

The crowd had thinned a bit for the evening, and you suspected this would be one of the last dances of the night, but you were glad to share it with Fox. You gasped a little when you felt his other hand settle around your lower back beneath your hair. His fingertips felt like fire brushing against your air-cooled bare skin, but you settled into his hold easily as he began guiding you down the length of the veranda. The steps he chose were uncomplicated, but you were impressed with the natural skill he seemed to possess as he swept you down the length of the open space.

“You were definitely telling the truth,” you laughed, enjoying how easily you moved together.

He arched his left arm and twirled you out beneath it before stepping in and sweeping you back into his hold. “I have my brother to thank for that,” Fox admitted, slowing a fraction with the timing of the music.

“Don’t you have a million brothers?” you asked lightheartedly. Fox looked so different from the stoic commander you had first met. A single stray curl had fallen loose on his forehead as he spun you around himself, and he practically beamed at you.

“This one is special. He inherited all the natural dancing talent somehow, so we just copied him. He’s the commander of the 104th battalion.”

You nearly stumbled in surprise, gripping Fox’s burly shoulder for support, but he was quicker and caught you. He gathered you into a spin to let you recover, bringing your body flush to his. The rush of adrenaline you felt as Fox effortlessly lifted you right off your feet made everything a little fuzzy, but he kept you securely in his strong arms. You felt like a star could have exploded between you with the heat of your bodies pressed together, and you would have happily melted into it.

After gently resting you back on your feet, Fox was the first to break the contact—although he seemed incredibly reluctant to do so. But the music still played in the background, so he continued to lead you through the dance.

“I’m assigned to the 104th as their official volunteer,” you said quickly, remembering why you had stumbled in the first place.

Fox chuckled. “You’ll like Wolffe. We grew up together as batchmates. He’s very stubborn and gruff, but he has a good heart.”

“I look forward to meeting him.”

As the music ended, the hall burst into applause. The other dancers and guests began to say their goodbyes, but you simply stood there under the twinkling lights. You panted together from the exertion of the dance as he continued to hold you, and you drank in the woodsy, slightly spicy scent of him mixed with the fragrance of the flowers in your hair.

He was gently brushing the back of your hand with his calloused thumb, and you were about to thank him for the dance, but the commlink on his wrist beeped. Still holding your hand, he released your waist and turned his right wrist over to silence the beeping.

“Ah, forgive me. Duty calls.”

As his fingers brushed over the device, you noticed the knuckles on his right hand were slightly blotched with old bruises, but you put it aside in your mind. “I… I hope I’ll see you again, Fox.”

He grinned down at you and gave your fingers a delicate squeeze. “Me too. Be safe, Keeda. Do whatever Wolffe tells you to do.”

You felt a pang of longing as he released you and turned to join the other Guardsmen waiting in the shadows at the other end of the veranda. How long have they been standing there?

Suddenly, you remembered and called out to him, “Wait, Fox!” He was immediately before you again with a questioning look on his face. “Please, before you go… what’s your favorite color?”

Although he virtually towered over you, Fox took your hand again and bowed slightly, capturing your gaze once more. His lips were warm as he pressed an impossibly soft kiss against the thin skin of your knuckles, and a mixture of shock and delight flooded through your body. Smiling brilliantly at you one last time, he replied, “Green.”

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[sleepingsun501]

Keeda would come to find Mal and June in some kind of trouble or jail and be like “I left you two alone for five fucking minutes!!” 😂😂

And June would soooooo appreciate the help in the greenhouses. She’s the only person in there, usually alone with the gardening droids, so she’d love Mal’s company!!

Aria!! Ok so for the OC headcanons ask…

I feel like Keeda and Mal would be besties because of their medical backgrounds. While Keeda would give up her medical studies to pursue finance instead, she would be totally supportive of Mal and so proud of her for becoming a medic. I feel like they’d briefly cross paths again as they’re both assigned to the 104th, and Keeda would take up Mal’s mantle as the Wolfpack’s moral support figure when Mal joins the 501st. I think Keeda would always keep Mal up to date on the Wolfpack, making sure she knows Wolffe is being forced to eat and sleep and take care of himself so she won’t worry. And they’d trade stories about all the shenanigans the boys get up to.

June and Mal… dear god two redheads = double trouble 😂😂 they would have so much fun together, and they would definitely come running to each other when they need to vent or need a night out. I also think June would constantly be bringing Mal new plants to have in her apartment, keeping her surrounded by the comforting greenery she knows Mal loves.

YES! I love this. I think Keeda would bring out Mal’s strong, steady side and they would RUN that medbay through any crisis. I could also see, after the transfer, Mal sending Keeda a comm like <Has Wolffe eaten today> and when Keeda reminds him to eat, he promptly tells both her and Mal to fuck off (but he does go get a snack and glass of water).

June and Mal would cause SO MUCH havoc!! They totally would feed off of each other on a night out and I just see Keeda being dragged along on their adventures because she’s afraid to leave them to their own devices 😂 and I love the idea of June bringing Mal plants! I think Mal would love to visit the greenhouse and help out June when she’s on leave ❤️