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sinisterexaggerator · 8 months ago

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Stars Above! | Cad Bane

Chapter 15

Explicit: Semi-slow burn, gratuitous smut /pwp, canon-typical violence, mildly dubious consent, angst, Tatooine Slave Culture.

This chapter: No warnings but for a disgruntled Duros.

Word count: 2.7k+

Notes: This is kind of a short chapter, but it feels right to set it apart on its own from what comes next. In fact, writing shorter chapters may make it so that I update more often, as it's easier to manage, and I still have a LOT of story to tell. <3

[ Ao3 ] - [ Masterpost ]

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Zulara tried her best to not let fear overtake her, for her spiraling thoughts to get the best of her, even as she sat there all alone. Not truly, but it felt as if she had been abandoned, Todo having powered down with Bane still sleeping soundly in the bacta.

Everything was happening much too quickly, though it had been hours since she’d come here; her head was spinning. She hadn’t eaten, having let her meal fall to the ground at Cad Bane’s entrance to her tiny home back on Slave Quarter’s Row the night before.

Zulara realized she didn’t even know the time, not having a chrono of her own. She supposed it did not matter, although Kayson might come looking for her. She wondered if Hondo was able to curb his anger, or to make up some excuse for her, but in her heart she knew nothing would deter her master once he had a mind to do something—find her secret hiding spot.

It was only secret because she was sure he did not know where Bane was docked, or even what his ship looked like. It was the only thing that gave her hope as she gazed longingly at the Duros, wishing he’d wake up.

She regretted leaving Todo just standing there, his form bent forward in a supine slope, but she had been too concerned, too riddled with worry for the hunter, not to go directly back to his side.

She had lost track of how long she had been there, seated on the floor with her legs folded beneath her; her fingers and forehead flat against the glass, Zulara engrossed by Cad Bane’s every breath—she could not help it.

She had almost panicked, having thought to call the youth named Boba Fett, but after the story she had heard, she steeled herself, refusing to bring him back aboard the ship if she could manage it.

Now, it was not Bane who settled into dreams, but the girl beside him. She dreamt of silly things. Things that were nary possible in this life, things that might have made her smile, but she was not so dotty as to put any stock into them.

Imagine her, flying amongst the stars, free from Kayson and from his business, only having to answer to herself. But maybe Bane would be there, maybe he would take care of her, and she would him. Maybe she could join him in his quest across the galaxy, providing him with some relief once he had finished a hard day’s work—how asinine she was to think that. It would never happen.

In reality, space was dark, cold, and unforgiving, she often floundered when she was made to practice piloting. Never before had Zulara felt so claustrophobic, not until she had experienced breaking atmo on Kayson’s orders the first time she left Lothal, no matter that the stars were beautiful.

When she was positive that nothing could go wrong; when she was absolutely sure that Bane was resting comfortably, the girl would climb unsteadily onto her tingling legs and her own two feet—they had nearly been asleep—finally ambling down the corridor to where the little droid resided.

Zulara did her best to move him to his rightful place: the recharge station. No arguments were given, no sassy backtalk had to be endured, yet she found she missed him. The silence of the ship was more than deafening, besides the warbled sound the pod made as it recycled and replenished bacta, as was its purpose, just like he had one—she presumed something, though she had no proof: It was possible in deep space Bane felt too alone, therefore Todo kept his mind sharp, kept him on his game, in addition to keeping the Duros company.

What friends did he have otherwise? Did he have partners that stood by his side? From what Pampy had said to her, he seemed to work all by his lonesome, with a reputation that preceded him.

Perhaps he liked it that way; perhaps she was intruding, yet he had seemed intrigued by her. She worried every second of every minute of every hour what Bane might do should he find her here once he awoke; she prayed to the Goddess of the Twi’lek people that he might find solace with her and not try to kick her out, or worse.

She felt the click, heard the sound that denoted Todo was plugged in. It echoed loudly in the quiet, bouncing from wall to wall. She glanced about her. There were so many things for her eyes to see and study.

There was a lengthy worktable. It was littered with motors, servos, gears, and wires of all sizes. Some parts looked salvaged, while others might be newly purchased, not to mention microchips of unknown origin and lenses, sensors, other various tools and instruments.

She saw a pair of RW-80 welding goggles, along with a protective visor. There were advanced repair kits of all kinds, including those for blasters. Most curious of all was what she thought were trinkets, things that he might collect. There were different kinds of helmets, and what appeared to be weapons of some sort that were unfamiliar. Cabinets lined the walls; she wondered what they might hold. She dare not snoop too much for fear of repercussion.

Still, that would not stop her. She gathered all the bits and pieces of Bane’s wrist gauntlet from off the ground, double-checking to make sure the hunter was still dozing.

Once seated, Zulara would pick up a nearby broken-screw remover, also known as an extractor. This one had a spiral flute structure, which she used to carefully unwind one that was being difficult. Her hands were delicate, though exacting. They had to be for one thing, yet without a measured touch it was possible to add too much torque to the brittle metal, thus making your job that much harder for you.

She removed its outer shell; it was cracked and badly damaged. There was extra paneling meant for droids nearby that could be welded and reshaped, but first thing’s first—she would need to replace the ruined circuits and find a pair of hypersheers for precision cutting and resizing.

---

Lavender eyelids batted open; Zulara found herself in slight repose, her own palm cupping her soft cheek as she had tried to keep her focus. It was at that moment she remembered—she had been cooking rycrit stew! With no sense of time inside Bane’s ship, she hoped it had not become inedible.

She spared a glance, Todo had still not activated. She could not have been asleep for too long, as it only took droids an hour to recharge, or so she’d heard—much less time than her.

Zulara suddenly felt like she could sleep forever, or at least for several hours, but she would not let herself succumb to such a notion. At least not until poor Todo could take over, then maybe she might get some rest before finishing the final touches on Bane’s vambrace.

It had been complicated, finding what wires led to what. She had a scare or two, and nearly burnt her fingers. It was fascinating just how it all operated—she wondered if Bane had built it all himself.

The girl was tempted to check on Bane again, but she did not want to accidentally cause a mess in his little galley, sparsely stocked though nearly spotless, and housed somewhere near the ion engines or another source of power; there was a low humming sound that seemed to burr the whole time she was in there.

Her feet found the rungs to the ladder she would use to climb down into the belly of his ship. His living area, the medbay, his workspace, and the cockpit—they all resided at the top, though separated by double-doors and one almost star-shaped hallway. It led off into four other separate, shallow paths—dead-ending at different doorways, whereas the kitchen and dining area, what looked like holding cells, and ample storage space were down below—so was the boarding ramp and holoterminal with access to the HoloNet.

She was sure that medbay used to be someone else’s living sleeping place, the way furniture was covered and piled up in the corner as if those items had been an afterthought. There was a spare refresher there, besides the one she was sure existed in Bane’s bedroom.

In addition to all the other nooks and crannies, there was the lift they’d use to carry him. It was industrial, flat, and open on all sides, like the ship’s sole was simply rising. It had been designed to act as both roof and floor between two levels; if you were on the lower deck, you had to wait for it to join you.

Zulara imagined it was useful for heavy items, like the pod Bane was currently occupying. She set her thoughts aside, focusing now on the smell that was emanating from down the hall—it was good, thank goodness, and did not smell like anything but vegetables and rycrit stew, like it was supposed to.

The girl would take a breath as she ran her fingers along the counter—it was made from stainless durasteel. She gathered the lid from off her home-cooked meal, inhaling deeply of the aroma that had been building up within. She ladled a bit of broth in the convex shape of the spoon she’d used to cook, then took a taste to make sure it was perfect.

---

Two wide, yellow eyes—like sparkling jaspers—whirred and vibrated with a light buzzing sound. Servos and joints were manipulated, little arms stretched out for a brief inspection, Todo 360 making sure that his intermotors were all functional and accounted for.

He shook his head, as if clearing unwanted thoughts or a fog that lingered, the faithful droid not quite able to remember what had happened to him. He blinked, his metal body tensing—Mister Bane—he was still inside the tank!

Todo would swivel his large cranium to the left and right; that girl Zulara was nowhere to be found. He wondered if she had gone. Had he made it to his recharge station? Perhaps she had it in her heart to help him, as the last thing he could recall was himself stalling, and only a few meters away from his destination—he was sure he had heard her call his name—if his memory still served him, she had sounded beside herself.

The service-droid stepped away from the mechanism holding him upright—he was now fully operational and at full power. He actuated his rocket thrusters and propelled himself into the center of the hall; he took to its right side, branching off, then opened up the steel-plated door to peek inside.

“Mister Bane!” the droid cried happily.

Todo realized he had nearly scared the Duros, his sharp eyes widening in breadth. He had halted with one leg in and one leg out, leaving his imprisonment, whether he should or shouldn’t. Todo knew Bane detested bacta—its texture, temperature, and consistency were all things that displeased him. He had argued with him more than once, the droid sometimes wondering just what he would do without him should he not be there to convince him otherwise.

“Your health is not a game!” is what the droid had told him, sounding as if he truly cared, though he was composed of nothing more than ones and zeros. In reality, Bane was thankful for him; he was like the nagging mother he never had, sure that without that droid, he would already be dead.

Still, that did not mean he was ready to entertain his fraught concern. His tone was lacquered with it, and the hunter would not have it.

“Bane! You are awake! I was—”

The Duros shot his droid companion with a look that dared him to keep yapping, Todo at once halting his chipper dialogue. What Bane was truly feeling was easy to decipher, as it was always written on his face, and rarely pleasant.

“Sir, I can tell your mood is poor, however there is—”

“Quiet!” was the only thing his master demanded of him, Bane’s voice gruff and raspy as he was thirsty on top of feeling completely useless. It felt as if he had been hit with an errant hovercar, or an entire starship, his body aching in places he did not know could ache.

Todo made a sound equivalent to indignation, yet he held his tongue, even though he did not have one. Bane’s other foot joined its partner on the ground, the Duros idling, lingering, just standing there for what felt like minutes, trying to regain his equilibrium.

Once capable of movement, Bane would begin his lethargic trudge toward his refresher in his private quarters, thinking the only thing he cared about was a warm, inviting shower; the feeling of the sticky bacta on his microscales was anathema and suffocating.

The hunter would hardly notice the wet, viscid trail he left behind in his ship’s short corridor, or that the droid had followed him, desperate to talk to him about something he imagined would be unimportant. His head ached, and his mind was numb, no thoughts present except those about the pain he was experiencing. He would take something—drink something—deadening those things he felt both from without and from within, not knowing that the girl being aboard his ship was anything but another dream.

---

“Oh, what am I going to do with him? He never listens! And now I suppose I am going to have to be the one to clean up this mess. I am a techno-service droid, not a maid-droid! Not even a thank you for—”

Todo paused in his lonely rant, tilting his head off to one side. His focus remained trained on the little sound he thought he heard—the clank of boots, or footsteps on the nearby ladder’s metal rungs. It was positioned just left of the cockpit’s doors, Todo surprised when he saw a head emerge, covered in dark locks.

“Zulara!” he called to her, coming forward as she pulled herself up, and out, “I thought you had wisely decided to go home,” he started in. “You will be happy to know that Mister Bane is alive and well, and is currently taking a much-needed shower.”

Zulara’s eyes widened with every word; she tiptoed forward, deciding to check on things herself as Todo kept the conversation going, though she nearly slipped in a residue that happened to be foot-shaped. “I am not sure that I can explain your presence here, therefore it may be in your best interest to leave—now—before either one of us gets into serious trouble.”

It was not that she didn’t trust poor Todo, but she had to see with her own two dichromatic eyes; she peered toward the bacta pod. It was open, and Bane was not inside.

The girl would turn, gazing at the floor and at the tacky substance that had left a path to the door across from her; it was obvious that Bane had made his way just as the droid had said. She began to follow it, Todo placing his hands upon his hips as his spheroid eyes broadened and expanded.

“—And just where do you think you are going?” he asked, perplexed.

“To check on Bane,” the girl would offer as a whisper, her footsteps timid; she moved closer to what was sure to be his bedroom. Her heart was pounding, and her internal temperature was rising, all from simply knowing he was somewhere, awake, on the other side.

“That is the worst idea I have ever heard! Do not be foolish!” Zulara would ignore Todo and his warnings, only pausing to hearten her small amount of courage. She could feel him tug her, his little hands having found the backside of her pants, “he will surely kill you!”

“I’ll be all right,” Zulara stated, shooing him away. Like a moth to a flame, she bade herself to go inside.

Todo would balk and scoff, pace back and forth, and wring his hands, but to no avail; none of this would help him. He tried again, “I do not know who you think you are, or what you are doing, but rest assured Bane will—”

The door closed in his face.

“Organics!” Todo would lament, exasperated.

#Cad Bane #Cad Bane x OC #Cad Bane x Original Character #Fanfiction #Star Wars #Original female characters #Twi'lek species #clone wars #bad batch #book of boba fett #Stars Above #Todo 360 #Bounty Hunters #Star Wars smut #multichapter fic #my writing

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