#tbb oc fanfic

[writingforfun0714]

Hello readers, thank you so much for being patient. Here’s Chapter 5 of my Bad Batch fic, Our Love. Enjoy🥰

Bad Batch Our Love (link for all chapters)

Warnings: descriptions of panic attacks, minor swearing, POV changes, OCs, lemme know if I need more

Words: 8,648

Bad Batch Our Love

Chapter 5–Sanctuary

Crosshair’s POV

As my ship travels through hyperspace, I think on the orders I had given to my squad while I was gone.

“Once I return, you are to destroy the power supply and wipe the data banks after transferring everything. Do you understand?” I had asked.

“Yes sir,” the squad all responded. I had a feeling I’d need some sort of insurance if I was going to actually go off planet for…personal reasons.

3rd POV

Crosshair’s shuttle drops out of hyperspace. The sniper returns just outside of Ankus’ atmosphere and his shuttle scans an approaching vessel. It’s the rest of his new squad. They attach vessels and the sniper opens the door to let them on. Crosshair let’s the attached ship go and plots the coordinates for Kamino as the rest of his squad mates walk into the cock pit with the sniper.

“Sir,” ES-03 walks up to Crosshair. He looks at the trooper.

“We wiped everything like you said and destroyed the power supply. No one can use the base now,” ES-03 and hands Crosshair a data rod.

“Everything?” Crosshair asks, just to make sure.

“Yes sir,” the trooper responds and Crosshair nods approvingly before motioning to sit. Wordlessly, the trooper sits down and the others follow while Crosshair powers up the hyperdrive. The stars look like streaks of light as the ship zips into hyperspace, heading back to Kamino.

As the ship travels through the hyperspace tunnel of swirling blue light, Crosshair listens to the chatter between the troopers. Mostly casual but none of them make an attempt to include him. Why would they? He killed ES-01 on Onderon before killing all those innocent people. The insurgents…the civilians. The others don’t understand. Crosshair notices that despite the visual similarities between their armor and clone armor, they are nothing like clones. There could be millions but none of them would ever understand what it’s like to be a clone. Crosshair’s time with Cody proved that. These new troopers didn’t understand the Kaminoans like the clones did. Not that Crosshair particularly cared about his new squad, but to be seen as useful to the Empire, Crosshair has to make this partnership work and he was certain that he wouldn’t get a another chance.

The sniper’s thoughts wander to Commander Cody. He said he was going to find his General. The last lead Cody had was the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. Crosshair growls instinctively at the thought. There was no point in going to the Jedi Temple. But Cody wasn’t a ‘shiny’. And Crosshair has his personal comm channel just in case. Crosshair feels a pulse of pain and scrunches his nose as his hand instinctively comes up to his head.

Crosshair’s POV

Permanent damage, Cody had said. And none of this would’ve happened if only Hunter had listened. But…it doesn’t matter now. I know the truth. I tried to help Hunter and how did he repay me? By leaving me behind on Kamino. He didn’t even know what Nala Se had done to me that day in the hangar.

“You really think we’ll leave Kamino?” I remember asking Hunter years ago, when we were cadets.

“We’ll leave and never come back,” Hunter had told me, putting a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

“Promise?”

“I promise,”

I shake my head at the memory. Liar. I feel a hand on my shoulder and I immediately jerk away, glaring through my helmet. ES-03 pauses and looks at me before I see the hand that touched me drop.

“What?” I snarl. ES-03 points and that’s when I hear a warning beeping noise. I must’ve been so absorbed in my thoughts I didn’t hear it.

“Sir, we’re approaching an asteroid field,” ES-03 says. I shut off the warning and I feel the ship lurch out of hyperspace. I see a huge expanse of floating rocks blocking the way. I hadn’t been excellent, but with Tech’s instruction, I learned a decent amount of flying during our training. I swerve my way in, dodging and weaving through. I put up the front shields at max power as we fly through.

I manage to fly through the asteroids successfully. The shields are down to 72% but otherwise, alright. The coordinates for Kamino are still in the nav computer and I let the ship’s autopilot take over. In no time at all, the ship arrives back on the stormy water world of Kamino. I’m struggling to see through the gray clouds, the rain and lighting but luckily I get the ship back to a hangar at Tipoca City.

The ship lands and my squad walks out first. I watch as the squad goes back to the barracks and I think about Cody. Cody hadn’t known about the inhibitor chips when I told him about them but part of me wonders if the chips were only for Order 66 and any orders after would be easier to question. I could’ve fought it had Nala Se not kidnapped and tortured me. She took out the chip but I can feel its effects. And I wouldn’t have gone through that if only Hunter had listened.

3rd POV

Crosshair and his squad are not needed so they head back to their barracks.

Meanwhile, in Lama Su’s office…

Nala Se has been summoned by the Prime Minister. The chief scientist walks in and is surprised to also see Governor Tarkin.

“Have a seat Mistress Se,” Lama Su tells her. Nala Se and Tarkin make eye contact as she moves to sit in the chair opposite him.

“Thank you for arriving so quickly. As you know, I am here to assess the value of all clones for the Empire. However, Emperor Palpatine has expressed that even though the clones of the army are of little to no value to him, the cloning technology is priceless,” Tarkin says. Nala Se blinks. It’s true the Kaminoan cloning technology is well-known throughout the galaxy, but that’s because everyone knows there’s more than one way to make a clone. The quality of Kaminoan clones is unlike any other.

“We offer our standard fee that we offered the Republic-“ Lama Su says.

“You misunderstand. We do not wish to place an order,” Tarkin says.

“Emperor Palpatine wants to use Kamino as a base of operations for his personal project,” Tarkin says. At first, Lama Su doesn’t reply, instead, he looks to Nala Se.

Even though they had commissioned the clone army for Palpatine, the Kaminoans are a neutral planet. Much like the Banking Clan, the Kaminoans claim no allegiance to anyone but themselves and accept orders from all over. However, both Lama Su and Nala Se were well aware of the Emperor’s true intentions.

Nala Se gives Lama Su a small nod before turning to Tarkin.

“I would be honored to work for Emperor Palpatine on his personal project. To make sure I am the right candidate for the job, I would like to learn more,” Nala Se says and Tarkin smiles.

“I’m happy to hear that, though I’m afraid that all I’m able to tell you is that Project Necromancer is classified to most except those with special clearance, which I’m afraid your Prime Minister does not have,” Tarkin glances at Lama Su.

“I must object Governor Tarkin. I have to approve and oversee every project Mistress Se works on,” Lama Su argues gently.

“Oh do not fret, we will keep you updated, however, the finer, specific details remain classified,” Tarkin assures the Prime Minister.

“Since we do have other contracts, we would suggest using a separate facility, one equipped for this classified project,” Lama Su says.

“The Emperor agrees and is already constructing many of his own personal facilities equipped with state of the art technology. However, he has already started working on Project Necromancer. We can certainly give you time to prepare but Emperor Palpatine has scheduled a visit within the rotation,” Tarkin explains.

“Very well. We will expect his arrival then,” Lama Su responds.

“Good. I believe that concludes my business with you. I will be in touch with the Emperor shortly,” Tarkin says, standing up.

“Prime Minister…Mistress Se,” Tarkin addresses them before walking out, leaving the Kaminoans alone.

“Until we learn of Emperor Palpatine’s true intentions, say nothing. We should be cautious,” Lama Su tells Nala Se, who hums in agreement.

Crosshair’s POV

As my squad exits the hangar, I see Admiral Rampart approach them. They will tell him everything no doubt. But Rampart is just another small ‘cog in the machine’ as Tech would say. My loyalties should be with those in actual power like Governor Tarkin. I’m sure I will be speaking to him in no time. I sigh quietly before taking my helmet off. Luckily my headache has disappeared.

“Hey! Crosshair!” I hear a somewhat familiar voice call out to me. I turn and see Crys and Trapper, the 212th troopers that I met in the mess hall after meeting Saw. They were the ones that told me about Cody and where to find him.

They have their helmets on but casually remove them as they approach.

“Glad to see you,” Crys greets and it takes me a moment at first. I’ve never been greeted like that by someone outside CF99 before, except from Cody and 99 of course.

“Did you find the Commander?” Trapper asks me. I nod.

“I did. He was injured but on the mend when I met up with him,” I explain. Seeing the concern on their faces, I keep going, “fractured femur, hairline I think. I’m not a medic.”

“Did he say what he was going to do after he got better?” Crys asks. I don’t answer at first. I probably shouldn’t tell them he’s going to go find General Kenobi, so instead, I tell them that I wasn’t clear on his plans, only that he’d return when he could.

Talking with the 212th troopers makes me think on the differences between them and my squad. As the 3 of us walk through the sterile, bright white halls, I see a Kaminoan walk past us, not paying us any mind, but I can’t help the instinctive step away from him I make. I hear Trapper grumble something under his breath. The Kaminoan looks towards us but none of us make eye contact and keep walking. Once we’re out of range, Trapper snickers.

“Long-neck lab scrabber,” he says.

“You dislike the Kaminoans too?” I ask.

“Dislike? Karrabast, they’re all a bunch of sleemos if you ask me. They may not experiment on us like you CT-99s, but you should hear how they talk about us. We’re just objects to them, weapons to fight a war,” Crys tells me. I hadn’t realized how much I actually have in common with the clones in general. They were regs…but…now they’re just…clones. Like I am.

“Yeah some of the commanders were shuttled out a couple rotations ago-“ I hear Crys say and that gets my attention.

“Do you know where they were sent?” I ask.

“No…and no one’s heard from them since. Like Commander Bly? No one in the 327th has seen him since Felucia,” Crys explains. 327th..that’s General Secura’s battalion.

“The Empire could be using them,” Trapper says.

“Using them? For what?” I ask. Trapper shrugs.

“I dunno, but you know they’d get every bit of usefulness out of us before throwing us away like garbage,” Trapper answers. The two continue talking while I wonder if they’ve seen or even know about ES-02, 3 or 4. The only reason I’m squad leader is because I was with CF99. If I wasn’t-

“H-Hey,” I stop in my tracks. The two stop and turn to look back at me.

“Crosshair?” Crys asks.

“I…I’m a new squad leader, now that I’m not with CF99,” I explain.

“But…I don’t like my new squad,” I admit, “I’m only with them so the Empire thinks I will be useful.”

“Your new squad? Who is it? Hope it isn’t anyone we know-“ Crys jokes, not understanding my seriousness.

“They aren’t clones,” I say and their eyes widen.

“Not clones? But they’re soldiers? I don’t understand-“ Crys says.

“Yeah, wouldn’t the Kaminoans want to create more of us so they can get more money?” Trapper asks.

“Please, just listen to me. They’re not clones. The Empire thinks that those who willingly sign up have more loyalty than us,” I explain.

Before either trooper could respond, Crys gets a call over his commlink.

“Crys, report to the briefing room-“ I hear a trooper say.

“Just…watch yourself…and your men. The galaxy is changing and…I don’t want you to get left behind,” I say. He nods and offers a hand. We grab forearms and shake.

“Take care of yourself Crosshair,” Crys says and I nod. I shake hands with Trapper and he nods as I walk off.

I wonder about clones who aren’t deemed useful to the Empire. There are millions of troopers. There’s no way the Kaminoans would be ok with the killing of millions of clones and I’ve never seen them make bad deals. And I’m sure Nala Se wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to have as many test subjects as possible. I feel the anger well inside me at the thought of the Kaminoan scientist. But as the anger comes, so does the pain in my head. I wince a bit. I take a breath and sigh when I hear my comm beep.

“CT-9904, report to my office,” I hear Tarkin’s voice.

“Yes sir,” I respond and make my way there, but not making an effort to hurry. I’m not surprised really. I knew my squad would tell him that I left my post on Ankus.

I finally get to Tarkin’s office and press the button. The doors open and I walk inside. Tarkin is sitting at his desk.

“Have a seat CT-9904,” he says. I cautiously walk up and take the chair at his desk.

“Do you know why you are here Commander?” He asks.

“I..don’t know, sir,” I answer, feigning innocence.

“You are here because you left your post on Ankus for a non-mission-related objective, is that correct?” Tarkin asks.

“Yes sir,”

“Why did you leave Ankus? Tell the truth and I’ll give you your next mission,” Tarkin says, meshing his fingers together with his elbows on his desk.

“Each of your squad mates gave different answers which leads me to believe you did not tell anyone of your ‘off-the-record’ objective,” Tarkin says. Lying isn’t really my style. It’s not that I can’t, I just prefer not to.

“I didn’t tell the others because I didn’t think they would understand, sir,” I explain.

“Well, regardless of what your squad would think, it is highly irregular to go off on your own,” Tarkin says.

“I’m sorry sir, I…I operated how I would with my old squad. Being the sniper-I usually am alone-“ I tell him. Not a lie…but not exactly the truth either. An…exaggeration if anything.

“Well if you cannot take the lead on this next mission, I’m afraid I’ll have to report your incompetence to Nala Se,” Tarkin says and my eyes widen.

“I will take the lead, sir,” I say, steeling myself before looking right at him. We lock eyes for a moment and when I can tell he won’t back down, I decide to take out the datarod ES-03 gave me. All the information about the abandoned base on Ankus. Tarkin takes the datarod and looks at it with a raised brow.

“Very well. We are still going through possible candidates to replace ES-01 but for now, you and the rest of your squad will report to Admiral Rampart,” he says. Easy replacement, that’s all they care about. I nod.

“Understood sir,” I say.

“Dismissed,” Tarkin tells me and I immediately stand up and hurry out.

“CT-9904,” Tarkin gets my attention right as I get to the door. I glance back over my shoulder.

“You are very valuable CT-9904. If you fail, Nala Se won’t just decommission you, she’ll use you until she’s finished with you. Do you understand?” He threatens. I nod.

“Yes sir,” I nearly growl out. The door opens and I walk out. I can’t go back to Nala Se again.

I walk out and feel my heart beating and a cold sweat makes me clammy. Nala Se. She tortured me. This pain in my head…it’s permanent, according to Cody at least. I’ve always hated the bloodwork, the diets, the injections. Nala Se would assure us as cadets that it was necessary for our development, to make sure our mutations were developing without hurting us. But it seemed like the other clones were being tested on half as much as us, maybe even less. None of us liked it. Plus, when we met Echo, he already had that fear thanks to the Techno Union so it was easy for him to relate.

My chest tightens and the pain in my head spikes with pain. The sudden intense pain sends a wave of nausea through me. I brace myself against the wall. Passing troopers either pay me no mind or give me a look, but everyone keeps walking. While it’s nothing new to be ignored by most troopers, I also have to assume that no one but me knows about the inhibitor chip and that they are probably being influenced by it still. The only way to stop the chip is to surgically remove it, something Nala Se did to me after she burned the chip into my brain permanently, causing the damage Cody told me about.

Meanwhile…

3rd POV

After saying goodbye to the Lawquane family, CF99 regroup in the Havoc Marauder to take inventory. While the boys busy themselves, the kids gather on the gunners mount. Maisy sits in Omega’s lap while the two older kids sit with their backs against the cool metal wall.

“What do we do now?” Maisy asks glumly. Omega looks at Wyyntrr.

“I…I’m not sure. But at least we have each other, right?” Omega asks.

“Yeah…I guess-“ Maisy answers. Wyyntrr sighs sadly.

A silence falls over the kids.

“You know I’ve never really had someone my age to…to help with the bad stuff,” Omega says. The two Jedi kids look at Omega. Wyyntrr whimpers at Omega. She looks at him, then down at Maisy in her lap.

“He asked if you were alone,” she explains and Omega nods.

“I’ve been alone my whole life, even before the war,” Omega explains.

“Before the war?” Maisy asks and Omega nods.

“I was 7 when it started, but even when the first generation clones were cadets, they didn’t really care for me. Not to mention Nala Se hardly ever let me out of her personal lab, ever since Alpha disappeared at the start of the war,” Omega says.

“Alpha? Who’s that?” Maisy asks.

“Jango, the donor, had an unaltered clone like me to raise like how Nala Se raised me,” Omega explains then turns sad. Maisy cocks her head slightly.

“I..I heard from Nala Se that the donor was killed right before the start of the war,” Omega explains before letting a bit of anger turn her face into a frown.

“A Jedi named Mace Windu killed him,” Omega says. Wyyntrr and Maisy’s eyes widen. The two were familiar with the dark skinned master. He was stern when he needed to be but he was strong and wise. While the two young Jedi never met him personally, they’d heard stories of his strength and calm.

“We know of him,” Maisy tells Omega.

Omega’s POV

My hand hand tightens into a fist. It’s not like I hate the Jedi as a group or anything like that. It’s just that particular Jedi that killed him. I didn’t know the donor and I don’t think he even knew about my existence, but I would’ve preferred the Kaminoans do their testing on him than me and before the war, they did.

“If it weren’t for that Jedi, I wouldn’t have been tested on by Nala Se. If it weren’t for him, Nala Se could’ve used the donor instead of me. That Jedi is why I had to be hooked up to all those machines and-and-the tubes-“ I start to go off, my anxiety and anger rising. The Jedi can feel it. Maisy scrambles off my lap and backs into Wyyntrr.

“Omega?” Maisy asks carefully. I feel my breathing speed up. My chest tightens and a cold sweat comes over me at the thought. No. No I can’t go back to Kamino-I can’t. Nala Se-

“Omega?” Maisy asks again but her voice sounds muffled and far away. I hear Wyyntrr roar with concern and he puts a hand on my shoulder, suddenly grounding me in the moment.

A warm almost calming feeling washes over me. Relief unclenches my chest and it’s easier to breathe. I look and see Wyyntrr and Maisy with their eyes shut. Wyyntrr has a hand on my shoulder and the other holding Maisy’s hand. The two seem…focused. Their eyes open and we make eye contact as I take a breath.

“I-…I’m sorry. That..that hasn’t happened to me in…a long time,” I say. The last time I remember feeling that way was when the Separatists attacked Kamino. I was 9. I’m 11 now and because it’s been a while, I’d almost forgotten what that fear and anxiety felt like.

“Rrr-rrrgh-urrrgh. Rrgh rrhh-rrrgh,” Wyyntrr says, looking right at me. I know he’s blind but..I’m sure he can see.

“A panic attack. He..he knows someone that had them,” Maisy translates. I look at him then down at the little girl.

“Are you ok?” She asks, clearly concerned. I nod.

“Nala Se spent my whole life pricking me with needles, locking me away in cold, sterile labs. She would put me in a tube to make it easier for her. I didn’t see my whole family get killed but…but it was still really, really bad. Do you understand?” I explain. I watch as Maisy seems to mull over my words, as if its a puzzle before nodding slowly.

Maisy’s POV

“Do you understand?” Omega asks me. I think on her words. She..she was hurt. For a long time. It’s not like what happened to the Jedi. It’s still a really bad pain but…a different kind of pain. I nod slowly.

“I..I think so,” I tell her, “was it a different kind of hurt?” I ask and Omega nods.

“It was. I still think about it sometimes…but…I just want you to know that you can talk to me about anything..ok? Both of you. I…I understand the hurt and pain,” Omega tells us. Wyyntrr puts a hand on my shoulder and we nod.

“You too. To talk with us. If you want,” I offer and she smiles and nods before ruffling my hair.

“Deal,” she agrees and I can’t help the smile that forms on my face.

“I am merely stating that we should form a plan instead of drift through the galaxy aimlessly,” I hear Tech’s voice say. I turn and the 2 older kids notice and pay attention as well.

“We have to be careful now Tech, we can’t assume anything anymore,” Hunter argues.

“Without the Republic, we’ll have to get our own credits,” Wrecker says.

“We’re soldiers Hunter. There’s not much else we are capable of. Child rearing is already pushing it,” Tech says. Mine and Omega’s eyes widen while Wyyntrr just looks sad.

“We’re bad for them,” I whisper, crawling back into Omega’s lap. She wraps her arms around me as Wyyntrr moves closer to us and drapes an arm over Omega’s shoulders. Omega doesn’t argue with me and I can’t help the tears. Without the soldiers, it’s just the 3 of us. How would we live? I feel Wyyntrr put a large hand on my back as Omega cups the back of my head, her fingers getting tangled in my thick, shaggy, wild dark brown hair.

I’ve never felt this way with the Jedi. The Masters wanted to take care of us, to teach us, to nurture us. They weren’t forced into it like the Batch.

“They got stuck with us,” I whimper sadly.

“Hunter and the others wanted to help us. If they didn’t, they wouldn’t have agreed to getting their inhibitor chips out,” Omega explains. My eyes widen. I…I didn’t know it was Omega’s idea.

“You…did doctor stuff…for me? Even though you hate doctor stuff?” I ask. Omega nods.

“Of course, you were in danger,” Omega says as if it’s obvious. I blink before launching myself at her.

“I love you, ‘mega,” I tell her, wrapping my arms tightly around the older girl. She chuckles and hugs me back, shifting me a bit to get a better hold on me.

“I love you too..both of you,” Omega says, pulling Wyyntrr closer and he chuckles, ruffling her hair. An alerting beep gets everyone’s attention.

3rd POV

The Havoc Marauder’s console starts beeping, getting everyone’s attention.

“There’s an incoming transmission..from Echo,” Tech announces.

“C’mon!” Omega tells Wyyntrr and Maisy. The young female clone hops down off the gunner’s mount and holds her hands up to Maisy. She drops down and Omega catches the Youngling and sets the little girl down while Wyyntrr slides off the edge, landing quietly next to them before hurrying to the cockpit.

Back on Kamino…

Crosshair manages to breathe through the pain and make it to Rampart’s office. He’s sitting across from the Imperial officer.

“So CT-9904, I’ve heard about your insubordination from Admiral Tarkin,” Rampart says. Crosshair remains neutral.

“You cannot say we didn’t give you ample opportunities to prove yourself. You’ve had the insurgents on Onderon, and the base on Ankus to prove yourself to the Empire,” Admiral Rampart says, “so despite how ‘valuable’ you may be to the Kaminoans, I can assure you that your worth to the Empire is based entirely on the success of your mission. You may consider yourself special among your kind, but you clones have yet to prove your worth to the Empire.”

“Yes sir, I understand,” the sniper responds with a growl.

“I’ve already informed your squad mates of your new mission,” Rampart says, handing the sniper a datapad.

Crosshair looks at it and when he gets to ‘location’, he reads ‘Ryloth’.

“Ryloth? Doesn’t the Empire already occupy that planet?” Crosshair asks.

“We have many patrols stationed in that sector, but our focus has been on Raxus, since that was the heart of the Separatists like former senator Mina Bonteri,” Rampart explains.

“You and your squad will eliminate the so called ‘freedom fighters’ including their leader, Cham Syndulla and any who follow him. After you’ve taken care of the threat, you will secure the city of Lessu, the capital without fail. Do you understand?” Rampart asks.

“Yes sir,” Crosshair says. Rampart gives the sniper a long, hard analyzing look before nodding in dismissal.

“Very well, you must leave immediately,” Rampart says and Crosshair stands and walks out, thinking on what Rampart told him.

“We have many patrols stationed in that sector, but our focus has been on Raxus, since that was the heart of the Separatists,” Rampart’s voice echoes in Crosshair’s mind. He hadn’t thought about it but if the Jedi didn’t win the war, then what happened to the Separatist leaders? Obviously when they rescued Echo they took out the Techno Union, but what about the others like Viceroy Gunray? Crosshair pushes that question into the back of his mind, choosing not to dwell on it. Instead he heads back to the barracks.

Omega’s POV

Tech plays the transmission and a hologram of Echo appears! He’s with two others, Captain Rex and another clone trooper I’m not familiar with. They look like they’re in a ship. I can hear ammunition firing and the hologram fuzzes slightly but Tech secures the connection.

“Am I glad to see you boys. We could really use some back up,” Echo greets. I can’t help but notice his black eye, split lip and how he’s holding his ribs.

“What’s going on Echo?” Hunter asks.

“You’re hurt!” I exclaim.

“I’m ok Omega, just a little banged up-“ Echo says.

“I’LL SAY!” A voice snaps off camera and Echo rolls his eyes.

“Don’t mind Kix, he can be…dramatic-“ Echo says.

“Echo!” Rex snaps to get the ARC trooper’s attention.

“Right-we’re in our ship—Rex is trying to take off now, but our deflectors were damaged and-“ Echo explains but another hit causes the ship to rock and Echo gasps.

“Rex! Get us in the air!” The other clone, Kix, yells.

“I’m trying! The steering’s jammed!” Rex answers.

“I’m on it!” Kix answers and I watch him race by. I hear the hum of an engine power up and by the relief on Echo’s face, I can tell they’ve taken off.

“I’ve put in the hyperspace coordinates, hang on!” Rex exclaims.

“We’re jumping to Alderaan—we need h-“ Echo says but the transmission suddenly cuts off from them going into hyperspace.

“Help-he was gonna say help-“ Maisy alerts, tugging on my sleeve. I nod in agreement.

“She’s right Hunter, Echo and Rex need us,” I tell Hunter. Wrecker and Tech nod at him, indicating they want to help too. Hunter nods.

“Alright, set coordinates for Alderaan Tech. We don’t even know what kind of trouble they’re in so be ready,” Hunter says and Tech nods.

Once Tech powers up the hyperdrive, the ship lurches forward and zips through the stars. Despite getting such urgent news, I’m a little…caught off guard when my brothers just…sit there.

“Shouldn’t we prepare?” I ask worriedly.

“It’s going to take a while to get to Alderaan. There’s not much else we can do besides wait,” Wrecker explains.

“But we can’t just sit here while Echo needs us!” I argue but my siblings don’t agree, instead Wyyntrr and Maisy just share a glance, then look at me, watching.

“We can’t do much while we’re in hyperspace. We just have to be patient Omega,” Hunter tells me. He walks up and puts a hand on my shoulder.

“I..I know but—but he was hurt-“

“Echo’s tough. Maybe even tougher than all of us. He’ll be alright,” Hunter reassures me. His voice is strong but calm. I sigh and look at him, then at Tech. Tech blinks but nods all the same before turning to Wrecker.

“Why don’t you take the controls Wrecker?” Tech asks. Sensing that Tech has something planned, the demolitions expert nods.

“Sure thing Tech,” Wrecker says and switches places with the goggled soldier. Luckily the ship’s nav computer and autopilot does most of the work. Wrecker just has to keep an eye on the ship’s scanner.

“When I get anxious about something, I try and get my mind to focus on something else,” Tech says, pulling out his datapad as he walks up to us.

“And what better way to distract yourself than by learning,” Tech says.

“Of course,” Hunter mumbles to himself but I hear him and can’t help the smile that forms on my lips.

Tech’s POV

“And what better way to distract yourself than by learning,” I say.

“Of course,” Hunter mumbles to himself and I see Omega smile a bit. I turn on the language vocabulary of my datapad and scroll through until I find Shyriiwook.

“Here, just start with the basics first. I will quiz you when you are ready,” I tell Omega, handing her my datapad. She takes it and looks at the screen.

“Shyrii-wook,” Omega reads.

“Cool!” Wyyntrr exclaims. I motion to come sit at one of the chairs in front of the main computer on the ship. Omega sits next to me while Maisy climbs up into the older girl’s lap. Wyyntrr stands behind their chair.

“Shyriiwook is an old language but one that isn’t too hard to understand-“ I explain and start teaching the girls, as I’m sure Wyyntrr is well aware of his own culture and language. I pull up more information about basic sentence structure and differences between formal words and slang I’ve picked up, with Wyyntrr correcting my slang every once in a while.

3rd POV

The transmission cuts out as Captain Rex manages to get the stolen transport ship into hyperspace, heading towards Alderaan. Rex groans in pain and grabs his side. There’s a piece of shrapnel piercing his lower left side! Echo’s eyes widen in shock when he sees his captain struggling.

“Rex!” Echo exclaims, “Kix! Rex is injured!”

“Let me see-“ Kix says and immediately gets Rex to turn in his chair.

“I-I’m fine-“ Rex says, gripping the piece of shrapnel sticking out of him.

“Damn right you are, now hold still or I’ll sedate you,” Kix threatens and Rex knows better than to test the medic.

“Why are we going to Alderaan?” Echo asks, having only heard of the planet, not understanding why they are going. Kix helps Rex take off his armor.

“I know someone that-GAAAH!” Rex suddenly cries out when Kix takes out the bloody piece of shrapnel. Kix immediately takes what’s left of the bacta spray and the last spool of bandages.

“Goddamnit Kix!” Rex snaps, though the medic just ignores Rex’s tone as he wraps the injury.

“I know someone that can help us,” Rex finishes and Echo nods when a beeping sound gets his attention.

“The hyperdrive’s overheating. I’ll be back-“ Echo says and hurries out of the cockpit to go fix it.

On Kamino, Crosshair gets back to the barracks and sees the rest of his squad. ES-02, 3 and 4. They’re already getting ready for the mission, so Crosshair just looks at them.

“Our next mission is on Ryloth,” Crosshair announces and is met with silence. ES-03 looks between the other two troopers, but does nothing because deep down, they all think the clone sniper is incompetent. Of course they would have no idea it’s because of the ‘procedure’ Nala Se put Crosshair through.

The only sound in the barracks is the sound of rifling and moving things around as the soldiers gear up and head to the hangar where their ship is.

Echo manages to fix the coolant leak that was causing the hyperdrive to overheat.

“Got it!” Echo calls just as the alarm shuts off. The ARC trooper heads back to the cockpit and sees Kix in the pilot seat instead. Rex is slumped in the copilot chair.

“How you doin’?” Echo asks worriedly as he gently places his hand on Rex’s pauldron. Echo notices that Rex is a bit pale. No surprise. The 501st captain sighs.

“Been better,” Rex groans and Echo smirks. Since his black eye has swollen up, Echo can only see out of one eye. Luckily Kix slathered the purple-ish blue bruise with bacta. The medic would’ve bandaged Echo’s eye but he needed it for Rex.

“You could say that again,” Echo says.

“We’re coming up on Alderaan,” Kix announces.

Their transport ship drops out of hyperspace and is heading towards a blue and white planet. As they get closer, everything becomes more and more distinct. The landforms come first along with the bodies of water as they fly through the clouds. The engines are still damaged from their escape and sputter slightly, starting to smoke. Alarms sound inside.

“Echo, turn on the secure emergency channel—3.149-45,” Rex instructs and the ARC trooper nods, doing as Rex says.

“Senator, this is CT-7567, Captain Rex,” Rex announces but at first there’s no response so Rex tries again.

“I’ll boost the signal as much as I can,” Echo says, flipping two switches and routing more power to the satellite dish.

“Senator Organa, this is Captain Rex, CT-7567, come in!” Rex pleads, the urgency clear in his voice.

“Captain Rex?! Am I glad to hear from you. What is going on?” Senator Organa asks when he hears the blaring alarms as Kix tries to pilot the crashing ship.

“Senator Organa, our ship has been damaged and we’re not doing so good. We could use some help,” Rex says.

“Understood. Head to these coordinates. Landing platform 3. I’ll be waiting for you,” the senator replies.

“Heading to the coordinates now,” Kix says.

“Thanks-“ Rex says before ending the communication.

They get to the landing platform and Kix opens the door. Kix and Echo each take a side and help Rex up. The soldiers walk off and see someone approaching the ship. An r-series astromech follows him, pushing a floating stretcher. Rex smiles.

“Senator Organa-“ Rex says as Echo and Kix help Rex onto the stretcher the droid is pushing.

“You’re in worse shape than I thought. We’d better get you inside, quickly. R2-C4, go prep the medical room and contact Fulcrum,” Senator Organa says. His droid beeps and rolls ahead of them.

While Echo and Kix seem confused about who the senator is and what exactly Fulcrum is, they continue to follow the politician.

“I was surprised to receive your transmission captain. I thought you had split off-“ Senator Organa begins to tell the captain.

“I got a little…sidetracked,” Rex admits as they get inside.

“Sidetracked?” The senator asks and the captain nods.

“I’ll explain later-“ he says and Senator Organa nods back.

Echo’s POV

We get Rex inside and the Senator has his personal doctor look Rex over. Luckily the shrapnel didn’t pierce anything vital, but he’ll need 10 stitches. Senator Organa even had the doc look me over, and despite my protests, Rex insisted. But I must admit I’m not sore anymore, my eye does feel better and my lip doesn’t sting.

“Thank you for helping us Senator Organa,” I say and he smiles.

“Of course. I’ve always been a big supporter of clones and clone rights, thanks to Senator Amidala,” he says, a small sad smile barely visible on his face but concern creeps in.

“But where are you coming from?” He asks.

“The Jedi Temple. We went back for our medic, Kix-“ Rex says, getting his attention. Kix puts a hand on the captain’s shoulder and Senator Organa turns sad.

“So…you know? You know that the 501st-?” The senator asks tentatively and Rex nods.

“Yeah…yeah we know,” Rex answers glumly. Kix doesn’t say a word. Being the only one that was at the Temple when it happened, no one can blame him.

“They’re all…gone…except for us,” Rex says. I…I guess I had thought that after my torture on Anaxes, I wasn’t the same. That I wouldn’t have belonged like I used to. Especially since Rex told me what happened to Fives when he and the others rescued me.

3rd POV

As they talk, Senator Organa’s droid, R2-C4 suddenly beeps alerting the others.

“What is it R2-C4?” Bail asks. His droid beeps and spins his top once.

“A single vessel is approaching?” He asks and the droid beeps again.

“It’s ok. They’re friends of ours,” Echo says.

“We contacted them earlier. They’re coming to help us,” Rex says and Bail nods.

“Then they shall be welcomed. R2-C4, once they’re in range, direct them to landing pad 1,” Bail instructs and his droid beeps.

The Havoc Marauder drops out of hyperspace. Surprisingly, Omega managed to pick up the basics of Shyriiwook and can understand Wyyntrr…a bit. Tech flies the ship towards Alderaan and gets a transmission from R2-C4 saying to land at landing pad 1, so the pilot follows the instructions.

Bail, Rex, Echo and Kix all watch the Marauder land and the door opens. Hunter walks out first followed by Tech, the kids and Wrecker bringing up the rear.

“Echo!” The kids exclaim. They all run and Echo kneels down and open his arms to return the gesture. Hunter turns to Bail.

“Thank you so much for keeping an eye on them. They…mean a lot to me,” Hunter says. Bail smiles and nods at the sergeant.

“Anything I can do to help. Come inside, I would like to speak with you,” Bail says and Hunter nods before motioning to the others to follow the senator.

Hunter watches as Omega reaches out and grabs both of the Jedi’s hands and he smiles to himself. The group heads inside and while Hunter does have a bit of a sensory problem here, it’s not nearly as bad as it is on Coruscant and he’s able to easily move past it. Having all the running water and nature around really helps.

“This way,” Senator Organa tells us. Hunter sees pieces of art lining the hall and wonders where they are.

“This is my home,” the senator answers Hunter’s unasked question. A woman walks by holding a baby. She smiles at the group when she spots the kids and nods.

“There’s food in the kitchen Bail,” she tells the senator.

“Thank you Breha,” he tells her as she winks and walks to a room, presumably a nursery.

“That is my wife, Breha Organa and our daughter, Leia,” Bail says and glances at the kids.

“You’re a father,” Hunter says and Bail smiles at him, nodding once.

“Just like you,” he says.

“Woah-I’m not a-“ Hunter tries to argue, but Bail just chuckles, cutting the sergeant off.

“Whether you are or aren’t, you take care of these kids,” Bail says, looking at the children.

“Mr. Bail sir-what is this?” Maisy asks, interrupting. She’s pointing on the counter since the little girl cannot reach.

“That is a meiloorun. A type of fruit. Wanna try some?” Bail asks. Maisy looks to Hunter.

“Can I?” She asks and Hunter nods.

“I’ll get you kids set up before we talk business,” Bail says, glancing at the soldiers.

“Business?” Wrecker asks.

“The senator explained to us that he’s been having trouble gathering support in the senate since Palpatine took over,” Rex explains.

“Support? For what?” Hunter asks as Bail loads up plates of food ranging from meat and bread to fruit and even desserts. Bail has the group sit at their family table. The kids eat but Maisy can’t cut her food. Omega notices, but is in the middle of eating. On the Youngling’s other side, the medic, Kix, also notices the trouble and offers to help.

“Here, do you need help ad’ika?” Kix asks Maisy. She nods and lets the medic help her.

Hunter’s POV

Kix helps Maisy with her food, and I give him a grateful nod and he smiles at me as we talk with Bail.

“I’ve been in contact with someone who’s been fighting the Empire, but during their latest transmission, I’ve learned that he’s been captured,” Bail explains.

“Who is it?” Tech asks.

“The Ryloth freedom fighter, Cham Syndulla,” the senator reveals.

“Ryloth? Isn’t that a planet occupied by the Empire?” I ask.

“No, but it might as well be. The Empire’s presence has grown in the last few rotations and I’ve lost contact with Cham himself. I’ve just been getting by with information from one of his supporters,” Bail says.

“So what do you want from us?” I ask.

“I know you only came here to retrieve your brothers—and of course you do not have to agree, but I’m told that your squad takes on the impossible. If Ryloth is going to survive, if the people of Ryloth are going to survive, they need Cham. And so does his family,” Bail explains.

“His family?” I ask and Bail nods.

“From what I’m told, he has a wife and a young daughter, probably around their age,” Bail says, motioning to Omega and Wyyntrr.

“We’ve done plenty of stealth and retrieve missions before. We can easily rescue Cham Syndulla,” Tech says.

“Yeah, but our fuel and supplies-“ Wrecker tries to be reasonable.

“Will be supplied for you, whatever you need,” Bail interrupts.

“W-Wait wait-anything?” Wrecker asks and Bail chuckles.

“We have a fully stocked armory. Feel free to take what you need,” Bail says.

“Alright!” Wrecker exclaims.

“You can even leave the kids here with me,” Bail says and all 3 kids’ eyes widen.

“No-no that’s too much of an imposition Senator. But we could use the resupply,” I say and Wrecker smiles. Once we agree, Senator Organa gives us all the information he has.

“Cham and his wife are being held in an Imperial prison inside the Capital. They rotate guards every 6 hours and don’t bother going to their home, it’s already under Imperial watch,” Bail tells us.

“How do you know this?” Tech asks.

“His informant is Captain Howzer.” Bail says and I see Rex’s dark brown eyes widen.

“You know him?” I ask.

“Not personally, but I know of him,” Rex explains, “he’s a good man, we can trust him.”

“I know it’s a lot to ask. But know that if you succeed, you may be giving not only Ryloth, but all those who oppose the Empire a fighting chance,” Bail tells me. I wonder what he means by ‘all those who oppose the Empire’. Are there others besides us clones? The Jedi are all gone except for Wyyntrr and Maisy so…who else would stand up to the Empire?

“Don’t worry Senator, suicide missions are our specialty,” Wrecker assures Senator Organa.

Senator Organa takes us to the armory and while Wrecker gathers what he thinks we’ll need, I look around until I spot a set of vibroknives.

“Good eye. Go ‘head, they’re of no use to me,” Bail says, putting a hand on my pauldron.

“Are you sure?” I ask and he nods.

“Why do you have all this stuff? I thought Alderaan was a peaceful planet?” Wrecker asks. Bail nods.

“Yes we are but during my time in the Senate during the War, I became close to not only other senators that shared my views, but also with the soldiers, the Coruscant Guard,” Bail explains.

“The boys in red,” Rex says and the senator nods.

“After helping him out when Coruscant was attacked, Commander Fox gave me the only thing he had an abundance of—“ Bail says, motioning around.

“Weapons,” Wrecker says and Senator Organa nods.

“The Coruscant Guard always had to be well equipped. Chancellor Palpatine insisted on it from what Commander Fox told me once,” Rex explains and Bail nods.

“Well I have no use for anything here aside from a simple blaster,” the senator says.

“We’ll make good use of it,” Wrecker assures him and Bail chuckles. I help Wrecker gather supplies while Senator Organa takes Tech to a supply closet back in the kitchen with the kids.

“Hunter,” Rex says, getting my attention.

“I know you’re…well, apprehensive, about doing this, but we have to,” Rex says and I guess my face must’ve been showing more than I intended. I sigh.

“I just don’t want anything to happen to the kids,” I say and Rex nods.

“I understand,” Rex replies sincerely.

Tech’s POV

Senator Organa takes me to the supply closet to stock up on rations and basic supplies.

“This should get you all through a few rotations,” the senator tells me. I nod. Even though it’s been an adjustment having the kids with us, I’ve managed to learn how to stretch what little resources we have.

“Thank you Senator Organa,” I thank the kind man.

“Thank you all for doing this. I…I didn’t want to tell your sergeant that Cham’s daughter was the one to call for help,” Bail tells me. I blink in surprise.

“I..thought you said there was a clone captain-“

“Yes, Howzer is with her. But he wanted to lay low and hide. He thinks…he thinks the Empire will leave once they get what they want from Cham, but I know the Empire won’t leave Ryloth,” Bail says. I nod.

“It was his daughter that convinced me to get help. So when Captain Rex told me about you all, I couldn’t pass up the chance to ask,” he explains.

“I see. Well as I’m sure you know, we are known for our success with difficult missions,” I tell him and the man nods.

“I am aware. Are you sure you won’t reconsider leaving the children here with me? I can assure you they would be safe and looked after-“ He asks. I nod.

“They are safer with us. They could put you and your whole family in danger,” I assure him.

“Because they’re Jedi?” He asks and I blink.

“I did not say that-“

“You didn’t have to. They’re wearing Jedi robes and they have the braids. But the older girl with short curly blond hair…she looks like you,” Bail says, referring to Omega and I nod.

“Omega is a clone, like us,” I confirm.

“We can keep the children safe,” I assure him and he nods.

“A father knows best,” he replies understandingly and I blink. I…I must admit I am unfamiliar with parental roles. I manage a nod. I’ve always thought we were more like brothers.

After we finish up, we gather back in the main room and I see Rex and the trooper called Kix talking with the children.

“The last I heard from Howzer, he was hiding out at Cham’s old abandoned outpost 10 miles southeast of the city,” Senator Organa says and I pull up a map of Ryloth on my datapad. I search a 10 mile radius around the capital and find the abandoned outpost.

“Found it,” I announce and Hunter nods.

“Here, one last thing before you all leave,” Senator Organa gets our attention. He pulls out a comm device.

“This will reach me, and only me,” he says, handing it to me. I take it and put the device safely in a utility pouch on my hip. We head back out to our ship on the landing pad just outside the luxurious-looking house.

“Thank you for everything Senator Organa,” Hunter says and the older man nods. The kids wave at him and he smiles and waves back.

“As the Jedi say, may the Force be with you,” Senator Organa says. Maisy and Wyyntrr smile.

“May the Force be with you,” the two kids repeat. Wyyntrr roars and picks up Maisy before walking up the steps to the Marauder.

We say our goodbyes and Hunter assures the senator that we will succeed. Bail Organa waves at us as I power the ship up and start flying towards Ryloth.

“I’ve put in the coordinates, prepare to jump,” I announce as the ship lurches into hyperspace.

3rd POV

Bail Organa watches the Havoc Marauder fly up into the sky, disappearing into the clouds. He’s relieved since he knows those soldiers did not have to accept his request. The senator walks inside and passes his wife.

“I’ll only be a moment,” he assures her with a kiss to her forehead. She smiles and caresses his cheek lovingly before nodding and walking off.

Bail gets to his office and shuts the door. He gets to his desk and turns on the hologram. An image of a symmetrical design appears. Two angular lines jutting out at the bottom with two diamonds.

“Senator Organa,” the voice greets.

“Ahso…Fulcrum, you should know I met with 2 surviving Jedi, both young children,” Bail explains.

“Surviving Jedi?”

“In the care of a squad of rogue clone troopers,” Bail explains and at first, Fulcrum doesn’t answer.

“Were they safe?” Fulcrum asks eventually.

“I believe so. These clones…they care about those kids,”

“Tell me everything you know about them,” Fulcrum instructs.

End.

[lightspringrain]

This art is thanks to the SUPER TALENTED @collophora . They are pieces for chapter 1 and chapter 2 of my CX-2 Tech fanfic "Return From Darkness". She did an absolutely fantastic job. If you want to see more amazing storyboard art, go check her out!

[replaytech]

okay just imagine hunter teaching you how to throw knives😫🤝

tbb hunter x female!reader (warnings: use of a weapon)

-

You were grateful that hunter hasn’t noticed you staring at him yet.

You had been watching him for a few minutes. You couldn’t help it. The sight of him throwing his knives and hitting the targets perfectly was… well, to be blunt, hot.

He throws another knife and hits the dot that he had drawn earlier, “You see something you like?”

His back is still turned, but you know that he’s talking to you, “I hate it when your super tingle snitches on me.”

He lets out a half laugh, half scoff and looks at you, “My super tingle?”

You give him a serious nod, “Yes.”

He turns away from you to grab his blades from the trees, “Are you just gonna stand there or let me teach you how to throw?”

You snort, “Thanks, but I’m more of a blaster girl.”

Hunter flips the knife in his hand, “What? Afraid you’ll be bad at it in front of me?”

You roll your eyes, “Oh please, I could do this easily.”

He continues walking towards you with a small smirk plastered on his face, “And you say i’m the one with an ego problem.”

You hold your hand out, “Let me see one”, you gesture to the blades.

He starts to give you one but retracts his hand, “Not so fast.”

You put your hands on your hips, “Oh here we go.”

“Your patience and positive attitude isn’t like any i’ve ever seen.”

You laugh and playfully hit his shoulder, “Shut up, hunter.”

He chuckles and goes to stand behind you, “Here, show me how you hold it before you throw”, he gives you a knife.

As you hold the weapon, you’re hyper aware of hunters presence behind you. He’s so close that you can practically feel his armor on your back.

His hands go in front of you to adjust your form. All you can do is watch what he’s doing.

Hunter speaks low next to your ear, “There you go, hold it just like that.”

He moves his left arm to your shoulder and keeps his right on your throwing arm, mimicking the throwing motions, “Make sure not to release too early or too late. Too early will make the throw too high and too late will make it hit the ground”, he says with his armor fully touching your back.

You swallow and nod, embarrassingly affected by how close he is, “Got it.”

You feel hunters lips come close to your ear, “What, princess? Am I making you nervous?”

You scoff and try to sound as confident as you can, “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Unfortunately, he steps away from you, “Try it by yourself.”

You try to remember everything he told you as you hurl the knife at the tree, missing the target by about a foot.

“Not bad, for an amateur anyway.”

You scoff, “Hunter isn’t impressed with me, whatever will I do?”, you deadpan.

He walks towards you and looks down at you, “Don’t tell me you missed on purpose so I would help you again.”

You nod, “Yep. My heart longs for your sweaty glove hand to rub all over my forearm again.”

“They aren’t that sweaty.”

“It feels like you dipped both of my arms in the river.”

He laughs softly and looks you in the eye, “Well maybe I want to help you again.”

You roll your eyes playfully, “I guess.”

“Woah now, don’t sound too excited.”

You laugh as he moves behind you to help again, “Last time you relied too much on your wrist. Use your arm instead, like this”, he moves your arm with his.

He lets go of you so you can try again on your own. This time, you actually hit the target.

“Atta girl.”

You bite your lip to hide your smile, “Are you intimidated? I might best you in our next mission.”

Hunter laughs, “I’ll have to keep having these sessions with you if you want those results.”

[oceansssblue]

Hello, I hope that you are having an amazing day. If requests are still open, I have a funny Star Wars prompt/or/oneshot if you want. You know how in Top Gun, after Maverick flirts with a lady at a bar, only to find out the next day that she is his superior officer. What about a similar situation in the Clone Wars era, in which one of the members of the Bad Batch, or one of the 501st like Fives, flirts with a female Jedi reader (who's probably in her early twenties) at the 79s, not knowing that she is a Jedi General. Only to find out the next day that she is the Jedi General assigned to them for their next mission.

Her appearance in the bar makes her look nothing like a Jedi. She just looks like a civilian until she is in her jedi robes the next day. She doesn't deliberately deceive them or anything. She just wanted to unwind after an undercover mission. She just didn't think bringing up that she is a Jedi was important, she assumed they already knew. The only hint she gave on their "date" night was a happy and playful "see you tomorrow" as they part ways to get to their respective homes/barracks. She is happy to see them the next day.

Cool fun little oneshot! Decided to go with Crosshair, seems more like his thing.

Hope you like it!

Xx,

Sky.

"SEE YOU TOMORROW"

CROSSHAIR/F REDADER 📩💖

WARNINGS: ALCOHOL, FLIRTING&TEASING.

Your muscles still ache after a two year undercover mision in Alcaz. Spending long hours of running and hiding in the capital will do that to anyone; even a Jedi. Your first mision with the Order started years ago; even if you're still young right now. Everyone starts early these days; you went from youngling to padawan and Jedi Knight in just a blink of an eye. The war makes you feel older than what you really are.

It's weird being back in Coruscant. Back in a normal setting were you don't need to constantly be aware of your surroundings –even if it's instinctual, now–; where you're not constantly in danger. Entering 79's, your eyes quickly flickering over the crowd of tipsy clones and the dance floor, a tiny smile makes it up to your face. You feel inmediately relieved, somehow. You don't need to pretend here. You don't need to be a soldier, a Jedi Knight, a General. You don't have responsabilities and lifes dangling from your shoulders. Here, right now, you can just be you, a simple girl in her twenty-two's.

Happy smile still in your face, you make your way towards the bar. You order a sweet drink light on the alcohol side to start with; turning around and taking small sips while you scan the bar distractedly. There's a few eyes on you already. Not because you're necesarily pretty –though you believe yourself to look alright–; but simply necause you're one of the few natives around here, and more so a woman. Clones will always be ever the gentleman, it's ingrained in their discipline, their sense of honor; but they're still men, real humans, and they have urges like everyone else. Like Jedis do, too, no matter what many people think.

You're not really in the mood for sex, though. You're too tired for that; your plan is to spend a few hours drinking and chatting and then return to the Temple. You've got a meeting tomorrow, and you should make sure you get your well deserved, comfortable sleep. You're almost drooling thinking of a bed already, but you'd like to unwind a bit first; even though your body is tired, you feel your mind too active to surrender to dreamland yet. Plus, you need to disconect from your previous mision and adapt to your new situation; to the new changes.

A few troopers that you had the chance to meet before starting your jump around the galaxy to serve to the Jedi and the Republic recognises you, and you quickly find yourself chatting amicably in a booth with them. They're kind, and perfectly respectful; they speak to you as if you were a normal person, though –not a general, not a Jedi–, and you soon fall into a relaxed posture and a lazy smile. None of you speak about war, about their fears and worries; but of hopes and desires, jokes and secret lovers that await for them patiently all over Coruscant. Some look flustered after realising they've confessed such things in front of you; but you just shake your head and smile. You're glad they're finding some happiness wherever they can.

On your third drink in –and probably the last one, judging by your flushed cheeks and the low hum of carefree excitement & arousal spreading inside of you– you feel another stare on you. It's heavy, it's intent so clear it's almost screaming at you; and you listen to your Jedi instincts, eyes slowly flickering around the bar to find it's owner.

You come up with a pair of dark brown eyes. They're the exact same shade of most of the clones in the GAR; and yet, it's stare so much more intense. It could almost cut through you and hit someone on the other side.

You study him curiously in the same way he has been observing you before. Even sitting down in a booth with some other soldiers, you can tell he's taller than most; the shape of his body and muscles long and thin, agile, though still strong. It's impossible not to notice the tattoo around his right eye; it fits him well, really. What surprises you most about him –besides his stare– is his hair, though; a mix of greys so pretty it almost shines under the lights of the 79's.

He's still dressed up on armour, like a lot of other soldiers on the bar. His is black and grey with a few stripes of dark red; a white skull with a "99" underneath it on his right pauldron. It's right then and there when you understand who he is, who they are; and your eyes twinkle in amusement, your smile widening. This is Clone Force 99, the squad that will be under your command. The Council told you they were different, that they had special abilities very useful for battles; but they fail to mention you they were literally, physically different as well.

You understand... Crosshair's –he must be– cautious and curious study then; he might be wanting to find out who exactly their new General is, and how does she behave when she's not on duty like everyone else.

You shoot him a grin and Crosshair's neutral, almost uniterested face turns into a smirk. He arches an eyebrow, and makes a gesture with his head; a welcome for you to join them in their table. You nod and say your goodbyes to the troopers; smiling and shooting one or two more playful comments before making your way across the room, walking confidently to this squad of extraordinary men.

"Hey there, boys" you greet them, deciding for informality in order to not spoil their night of fun from the start. "Care if I join?"

There's various reactions around the table. Crosshair looks amused. Echo and Tech are purely surprised –the later one quickly scanning you almost as if trying to find information about you with just his eyes–; while Hunter looks hesitant. Wrecker is openly excited and happy.

"Yeah, take a sit!" He pushes his brothers to one side, making room for you in the circular booth their sitting in, ignoring the other's quiet, pained grunts.

They all look a little tipsy too.

You chuckle and take the offer, letting down your drink on top of the table and sitting besides Wrecker. Crosshair arches his eyebrow again, still finding amusing how you seem confident enough in a table –a bar– surrounded by men. He likes confidence in a woman, but such levels are a bit more rare.

"Comfortable?" He asks, his voice deep and smooth, almost a lazy drawl, and you grin back at him.

"Very" you answer, emphasising your answer by taking a long sip of your alcohol and laying lazily against the booths backrest.

After holding his stare for a few seconds, you turn your attention back to the rest of the group; scanning them curiously. They do de same with you.

"So, didn't have time to do a change of clothes?" You point out. "Did you come back from a mission today, or is this just an night outfit choice?"

Wrecker laughs, will Echo and Hunter show a tiny smile. Tech is completely serious still, lost in his thoughts without tearing his eyes from you. Crosshair also stares at you.

"We came back from a mission a pair of hours ago, yeah" Hunter finally answers, relaxing slowly. "Thought we should enjoy a bit of freedom before getting back to work tomorrow".

His voice is deep as well; a bit more soft yet raspy.

"Ah" you answer, smiling guiltily. "Got it. Well, I'm not going to cut out your fun, no worries. Feel free to drink and chat as much as you like. Also... This is still a good fit. Beautiful armour, guys".

This time Tech blushes, Echo clears his throat in silence and Wrecker, Hunter, and Crosshair, all smile widely. Ah, yes, you forgot; armours are precious to all Mandalorians, including clones, and you could have very well call them...

"So you think we're hot? That it?" Crosshair drawls, eyes interested.

You laugh shrugging your shoulders. Yeah, well, you might be a little too tipsy. This is definitely your last drink if you want to keep things professional. Force knows if you weren't a Jedi and this weren't your men you'd have had already tried to take one of them home. Huh, it seems you're not as tired as you thought.

"Pretty" you correct him, if only to mock him a bit and play with him.

Crosshair's stare darkens and you can feel his arousal and want calling you through the Force.

You smile down playing with the rim of your glass distractedly, and feeling a sudden wave of shyness. Alcohol is a dangerous thing.

The thought makes you giggle a bit.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The night goes on, and you switch to a non-alcohol drink as promised to yourself. The conversation turns normal and more easy as the clock ticks by; all of them being very interesting, fun people to chat with. Crosshair and Echo are more reserved than the rest; different types of quiet observing and thoughtfullness. You suspect the second one isn't as comfortable with your presence as the rest –while you have no doubt that that wouldn't suppose a problem in battlefield, you know he's an excellent soldier–; while Crosshair... Crosshair's intentions are still quite clear.

He's bold, you have to say. Most troopers wouldn't want to risk being reported for misconduct even if they know most Jedis would just gently shut their intentions down if it were the case. Clones usually don't want to risk it; though it's evident that Crosshair doesn't think you will or plainly, doesn't care.

It doesn't bother you. He's attractive, and it feels good to be desired; you're a Jedi, but you're also just twenty-two, and you can't help it yourself. Still, you're nothing but polite to him, if only a bit of playfullness here and there. You're not going to go to bed with him, not before your oficial meeting; not while you can still resist.

You sigh with a smile.

"Well, boys, it has been a pleasure" you start, standing up and patting Wrecker's shoulder besides you. "But I think I'm gonna go and try to shut an eye. Have your fun without me, see you tomorrow!"

Tech eyes widen slightly, observing your retreating figure while Crosshair makes a move to follow you out of 79's.

Tech grabs his brother's shoulder and pulls him back down, ignoring Crosshair's almost snarl.

"She expressed her desire to go to sleep, Crosshair. Let her be" he opted to say, still not 100% sure of his theory before proving it with a quick search on his datapad.

Crosshair sighed and gulped down the remaining of his drink.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

No matter that the Batch had left 79's pretty late in the night, they were all rised and prepared to meet their new General at 0600 puntually. Their faces carried nag under their eyes and various degrees of tiredness; but they weren't being shipped anywhere, so there was no real problem with that. It was just a formal meeting so they could put a face to the name and greet each other; then they'll be left alone to enjoy the rest of their shore-leave day.

"I hope she's nice!" commented Wrecker while they waited up in a line in front of the Marauder.

Hunter hummed.

"I just hope she lets us do our thing" he muttered, clearly not very happy about the new placement.

None of them were particularly enthusiastic; they had never had a personal Jedi General before, and it would be a big change for everyone involved.

"I am confident she will" answered Tech, perhaps the only one holding positive thoughts about it. "I have thoroughly researched our General in the early hours of the morning and she has an impressive record on undercover missions and other side tasks. It seems she is usually sent on unusual requests as well, just like us. In adition, she is fairly easy going. I am positive we would all be able to adapt to each other well".

Right when Wrecker was going to ask with a deep frown etched on his face how did he know she was as "easy-going" as Tech affirmed, a female figure crossed the doors of the hangar walking towards them with wide confident steps.

Wrecker's, Echo's and Hunter's faces stared back in shock; while Tech nodded firmly as if he were explaining something to them, and Crosshair followed the young Jedi's movement full of intrigue and a masked surprise.

"Morning, troopers!" She greeted them, still a few meters away from them.

Her smile was radiant in the greyness of the hangar bay.

Crosshair leaned towards the smartest of his brothers, subtle.

"Punishment for fucking your Jedi General?" he asked in a distracted whispered, eyes never leaving the woman aproaching them.

Tech answered completely unbothered by his antics; posture firm.

"From an informal reprimand to proper decomissioning".

Crosshair smirked.

"I'll risk it".

He arched an eyebrow in amused defiance when she looked straight at him.

THE END.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Taraaa! Here it is love, hope you like it! It was a little fun cheeky thing to write :)

Not checked after finishing writing it cause I have exam tomorrow and still got a few finals left, but I hope I didn't make a lot of mistakes!

Only two more requests left before I jump onto another tbb Mermaid fic. Don't worry, yall, I will reopen requests the future, just let me survive my exams first ;)

Stay tunned!

Xx,

Sky.

Back to masterlist here:

[bring-backup-99]

Before It Gets Too Late

PAIRING: tech x fem reader

SUMMARY: You spend a fun and special day with Tech, starting with a flying lesson that takes an unexpected turn. There’re fluffy times but mostly sexy times. (I’m trying to support and comfort my Tech people during this dark period.)

WORDS COUNT: 1926

RATING + WARNINGS: 18+, very spicy, porn with minimal plot, PiV, rough sex, probably bad flight mechanics

NOTES: This is installment twenty-two of my reverse harem “Bad Choices” smutlet series on Ao3, but I think it’s also a nice stand-alone Tech story. Although it’s written in second person, my heroine has a very established relationship with the Batch.

Everything was going fine until a large flock of flying creatures shot out of the canopy in a wide column directly into the ship’s path. You were too close to simply fly around them, and every other usual option you could think of would leave hundreds of them dead and the ship with possible light damage.

So without a second thought, you killed the thrusters while sending the ship in a tight turn, the nose pointed at the column. A quick tap of the port thruster has you cleared of the animals, with what you hoped were minimal casualties, then you reinitialized the main thrusters and resumed your disrupted flight path.

For a full minute, there was silence to your left. Finally, “It appears that flying lessons were unnecessary.”

“That was never the question,” you hedged. “You asked if I would like you to give me lessons. You didn’t ask if I knew how to fly. I answered honestly.” And this was your third time out.

“But with a glaring omission,” Tech huffs at you.

“Don’t be angry at me. I was very curious as to how you would be as a flight instructor, and I would not have received the same response if you had known.” What you do know is that this is logic he won’t be able to argue with.

He hmphs at you again, but you can tell he’s not really upset.

“That was an interesting maneuver you performed.”

“A modified ‘Tech turn.’ Seemed like the best option for minimizing death and destruction.” You pause for a moment, then you look at him. “It can’t be, right? The ‘Tech turn’…” You trail off as you see the corners of his lips turn up to an actual smile.

“That is not what it is called.”

“I’m going to fuck your so hard as soon as we land.”

“I was contemplating something similar.”

He doesn’t take the controls from you, but you sit quietly for a while.

“I’m not great at mechanics. You could teach me that?” you offer.

“Specifically define ‘not great’,” he asks.

“I definitely couldn’t fully repair this ship, but I am unable to give you a rundown of which systems I am deficient in. That’s the best I can do.”

“That…is acceptable.”

*

Almost as soon as the ship touches down in the tree-lined clearing, you are on each other. He lets you push him back down in his pilot’s chair, straddling him while your lips devour his with kisses. You groan in frustration as you try to divest him of his various layers of clothing, but you’re too eager and your fingers can’t find all the buckles and straps.

Want. Need. They course through you. You need his skin against yours. Finally, he takes pity, gently stops your fumbling, and slowly removes all the items covering his torso, your desperate whimpering doing nothing to hurry him. Then he lifts off your shirt. Your bodies crash together again. He kisses along your neck, down to your breasts, cupping them, licking your nipples. You throw your head back and cry out, your hands stroking over his head and neck; then fingernails scrape down his back, feeling his taut muscles.

“Against the wall,” you groan. Moments later, you’re both naked, and your back is to the one bare metal plate in the cockpit. Tech drops to a knee in front of you, places your leg over his arm, and targets your clit in a focused and aggressive attack.

“Fuck! FUCK!” you scream as, mere minutes later, you come. And then he lifts you, burying himself deep inside you, pounding into you, your pussy still twitching in pleasure.

Every rough, hard thrust is accompanied by his grunts, and you loudly proclaim your satisfaction, your voice echoing through the ship. You want Tech to do this, need him to do this, to take his pleasure from your willing body. He captures your wrists, pinning them above your head with one hand, his other hand gripping your ass, fingers pressed into your flesh, pinching, bruising. He kisses you, mauling your lips, and when he breaks away, you sink your teeth into his shoulder.

He gasps, releasing your wrists, and takes a strong hold of your ass and thighs, angling you for deeper, feral thrusts. Your arms encircle his neck and shoulders. You want him like this, desperate for you, as if no one else could give this to him. An animalistic groan emanates from him as his cock ravages you until finally a full throated cry signals his climax and he holds himself deep inside of you, and you feel his hot cum pump into you.

Neither of you move, the only sounds your gasping breaths as you each try to take in enough air.

“Mmmm,” you finally manage. “That was excellent.” You smile, then lick a drop of sweat from his neck.

“Yes,” he says, a slight gleam in his eye, “Quite satisfactory.”

* You lie in a bunk together, your head on his shoulder, a hand idly stroking his chest.

“Why did you not disclose to me that you did not need flying lessons? Your skill level is clearly quite adequate.”

You suck in your breath. I wanted to spend time with you outside of my bedroom. I wanted to know who you are when we’re not fucking. I wanted to be on this ship with you when you could be focussed on me. I wanted… So many wants, as if you can’t be happy with what you have.

“It’s been a long time since I flew. I wasn’t sure that I didn’t need them…at least as a refresher.” You hesitate. “Are you angry at me?...slightly perturbed?

“I am not. And at least they were not a waste of time.” His fingers run up and down your arm.

“No,” you agree.

Tech looks down at you, watching your hand move along his skin. You have not asked him why he offered to teach you, which is for the best. Tech is worse at articulating his wants than you are.

*

You wake up alone in the bunk. It’s been awhile since the person you’d fallen asleep with wasn’t still beside you. The ship is dark, so it must be night. You get up, the floor cold under your feet, expecting to find Tech in the cockpit.

Instead, a drop-ladder is down from the midship overhead storage space.

“Tech?” You call up.

“Ah, you are awake,” you hear him say. “I was just coming down to collect you. Come up here.”

“Um, I’m naked?” You look around for your clothing and see nothing.

There’s a long pause. “It appears that I am nude as well…I do have blankets.”

You sigh and tentatively climb the ladder, then follow Tech’s voice to a maintenance hatch with another ladder that lets you out onto the ship’s fuselage. He takes your hand and leads you to where he’s laid out a large blanket over the cockpit. You feel awkward even though the warm night air is quite pleasant on your skin.

“What’s this all about?”

Tech helps you down onto the blanket, then points up. “The moons have just set, so we should have quite an excellent view of the Quadrillen meteor shower. I believe you expressed dissatisfaction with your ability to see this from the city.”

You look up and, after a few moments, you watch a meteor blaze across the sky. You hadn’t mentioned that you wanted to watch this to Tech. You and Crosshair had been discussing it. You hadn’t realized Tech was paying attention. You lie next to each other, mostly in silence, watching the light show.

“I must admit, I was skeptical at first, but this is quite a pleasant experience.”

“Skeptical? Why?”

“I have seen many natural phenomena during my travels in space. I did not think that the debris from a comet entering a planet's atmosphere would be particularly visually stimulating in comparison to what I have witnessed. But taken as a whole, this is quite an excellent experience.”

You laugh. “I suppose.” Smiling, you continue to watch as the little streaks fill the night, when suddenly three meteors scorch their way across the sky. You sit up excitedly and point. “That was amazing.” You look down at Tech. He has a slight smile on his face, then he pushes himself up and presses his lips to yours. His arms gather your body to him, one hand stroking in your hair, one at the small of your back. He takes your breath away with his kiss, drawing you down onto him.

This feels insane. Are you really going to fuck on top of the ship under the night sky? Turns out, yes, yes, you are.

You lie on him, enjoying the feel of his hot skin along your body. You kiss for a long time, until you can’t take it anymore, and whisper, “I need you. Please.” He helps you slide onto him, both of you gasping. You whimper; you’re a little sore but the sensation is too sweet. You lean forward, pressed chest to chest, as he pivots his hip to help you fuck him gently.

And when he carefully rolls you both so you can watch over his shoulder as the stars cascade out of the sky, you can’t help but think that this is all a little too ridiculous. He moves above you, long strokes that make your breath catch, and you cry out because sometimes he fits inside you perfectly.

You wrap your legs around him. “Yes, I like that. It feels so good. Just like that, Tech. Mmmm, just like that.”

Stars keep falling as he takes hold of your legs, angling you so his cock can thrust deeper. Your cries sound small as the trees surrounding you consume them.

You move together, one being working toward the same goal. Each stroke sends shivers through you until you feel your body full with warmth as a soft climax overtakes you, not nearly as intense as the one earlier, but somehow more satisfying.

He holds your hands, fingers intertwined, as he watches your face while the orgasm washes over you, drinking in those little noises you make that he so enjoys. He moves carefully as you finish, knowing you must be sore already, wanting you to still find pleasure as he nears his own climax.

And then you start whispering to him, “Come in me, Tech. I need to feel you inside me. I need it. I need you to come for me.” You move under him, insistent, demanding, so he has to surrender to you. He stiffens and gasps, his hot cum emptying in you. You wrap yourself around him as he collapses onto you, finally spent. You watch as the stars continue to fall through the blackness of the sky.

“We shouldn’t fall asleep up here.”

“Yes, that would be unwise.” He gingerly lifts himself off you. You roll and lie on his shoulder, watching the stars fall behind the trees. The air is cooling and you shiver. “Let us go back inside. You can continue watching from the cockpit, if you wish.”

“Tech.” He looks at you, while collecting the blankets. I wanted to spend more time with you, that’s why I lied.

“Thank you for tonight.” This was really special to me. I hope it was to you.

“Yes, this was very enjoyable.” He watches you as you climb down the hatch. I wish to do this again.

* But wait, there’s more:

The rest of the series can be found here.

Warning: It gets kinky

[leenabb104104]

““You. Looked. So. Damn. Handsome. Love.” She punctuated each word with a kiss to a new inch of his face, leaving what Tech could only imagine was so many lipstick stains that his brothers would be forced to make fun of him.”

(Read the rest of @legacygirlingreen ‘s AMAZING story based off my art HERE!!! GO!! It is FANTASTIC!! A special thank you to her for helping make this AU even BETTER and more alive!)

@legacygirlingreen @thora-sniper @sukithebean @thecoffeelorian @neyswxrld @somewhere-on-kamino @clonethirstingisreal @royallykt @morerandombullshit @burningfieldof-clover @tbnrpotato @keantha @anxiouspineapple99

[freesia-writes]

Ch 28: Party Hard and...

Master List ~~ Previous Chapter ~~ WC: 2.1k Author's Note: Time for it to hit the fan a bit. Hunter's just not having a great time. At least he's trying? Oh boy. Remember, kids, when you’re faced with a difficult situation, you can pause and respond intentionally or you can react without thinking. 😉

Couldn’t resist releasing this one early. Happy Saturday!

THIS SONG IS THE PERFECT VIBE; I'd suggest starting it halfway through (I'll mark it below): David Guetta & Bebe Rexha - I'm Good (Blue) [Official Music Video] (youtube.com)

.

Luci’s gigantic floppy hat nearly hit Hunter in the face for a third time as they made their way into the transport station. It was perched on the side of the island, with equal access to a small landing pad as well as docks below, providing passage by air or by sea depending on the destination. After purchasing their tickets, they wandered down the stairs to the boats, scanning the numbers to find the right one. There were only a few routes available – one to each of the nearby islands – and Plata was by far the most popular destination. 

Wind ruffled his hair as the sound of engines grew louder, and Hunter looked up to see the shuttle coming in for landing. It was the same one he’d taken to Keytoll, and he squinted at it harshly as though the ship itself were to blame for all the strife he’d experienced. Something caught his eye, though, as it turned and settled onto the landing platform – a small tracking beacon stood out against the otherwise dull and dingy hull of the shuttle. The shiny little dome-shaped piece reflected the sunlight from its perch beneath one of the lateral wings, hidden to the casual onlooker. His brow furrowed, old habits kicking in as he wondered who put it there and for what reason. Hundreds of people had taken the shuttle to and from various places since he and Lyra had been on it; he was undoubtedly being paranoid to think it had something to do with them. But still…

“Time to go!” Luci’s bright voice called him back to the present as she took his arm and pulled him into motion. Her sundress fluttered in the breeze, and she entwined her fingers with his, coaxing him on with an affectionate gaze as they walked along the dock. They boarded the boat to Plata, tucked into some seats at the rear, and then they were off, skimming across the waves and leaving the weight of the world behind.

* * * 

“I am not wearing that!” Hunter laughed, giddy from a delicious dinner and the bottle of liquor they continued to share as they had returned to their hotel room. “You already got your way with the hair.”

“Come onnnn,” Luci insisted, waving at him like a flag. “You’ll fit right in.”

“I don’t want to fit in with that!” he protested, taking a swipe at it but missing as she jerked it out of his reach.

“Well then you can just go naked!”

“You would like that, wouldn’t you,” he said, slurring his words a tiny bit. 

“I mean, yeah!” she giggled, throwing her hands in the air in surrender. “Okay, we’ll compromise. Just wear the shirt. Keep your stupid jeans.”

“It’s not even a shirt!” he complained, shaking his head with a dumb grin on his inebriated face. 

“Just put it on so we can go,” she said, exasperated. She began to tug his shirt up and over his head, biting her lip at the way his hair scattered across his face once the shirt was free of his arms. A few fingers traced across his chest and stomach, and with just a look in those emerald eyes, he was drawn in for a kiss. When she released him, she pushed the “shirt” into his hands with a mischievous smile. “Go on.”

“This is beyond ridiculous,” He muttered, pulling it on and staring at her in disbelief. 

“You look sexy!” 

“I can’t…” 

“Ssshhhhh,” she pressed a finger to his lips, then stepped back and took another swig from the liquor bottle before handing it to him. He followed suit, set it on the counter with a loud clank, then turned to look at the tiny mirror on the back of the hotel room door. 

“Son of a Hutt…” 

His reflection stared back at him, almost unrecognizable. He was mercifully still wearing a plain pair of jeans, but that was where the common garb ended. Luci had pulled the top half of his hair into two slightly crooked little tufts atop his head and, once they were secured with rubber bands, had tied his bandana in its usual place below them. The “shirt” she’d insisted on looked like a fishing net. In fact, he was fairly certain it was made from a fishing net. There was a faint sense, somewhere deep inside, that he was embarrassed, or should be embarrassed… But it was quieted as Luci spun him around to face her. 

“Just relax and enjoy yourself.”

Fanart by @that-salmonberry-punk

.

Music blared from each doorway they passed as they pushed through the crowds in downtown Plata. Much like Xylo, the island was small enough to have only one main town, but Plata was broad and flat, with tall buildings stacked neatly beside each other from end to end. It was tiny compared to Xylo, yet far more densely populated and full of art, culture, and nightlife. Luci’s outfit seemed as ridiculous as his own, and yet she strutted with full confidence. She’d opted for a pair of low-rise, baggy black pants with stripes down the sides and some kind of cropped moto jacket that hung open. Beneath that was just… underwear, as far as he could tell – a bright red bra and strappy thong that came up above the waistband of her pants that barely clung to her hips. But she’d insisted it was a proper outfit, and at that point he was a bit too tipsy to care.

She found an alleyway off the main street, pulling him into it and beaming at him from dewy, flushed cheeks. It was a warm and humid night, and the sheer number of people crammed into one area did nothing to help the claustrophobic vibe. But the temporary relief of quiet and darkness in the alley was a welcome reprieve, and Hunter exhaled, starting to run a hand through his hair before hitting the spiky little pigtails. Luci laughed, straightening them with playful little tugs, and she tickled his nipples where they poked out from his netted shirt. 

“What the kriff are we doing?” Hunter muttered, eyelids rather heavy as he regarded her with rummy fondness.

“Having fun. Plain and simple,” she answered with a shrug, tugging her red top down a bit to plump up her cleavage. Hunter was overwhelmed as it were, and when she gave them an extra little jiggle, laughing at the way his eyebrows shot up, he was about ready to call it a night. 

But Luci had other plans.

“I thought we might start the night off right…” she purred, biting her lip as her eyes roved from his recently-firmed abs to his broad, shapely chest. “If you’re interested…” He watched curiously as she produced a small capsule from her pocket, opening it to reveal some nondescript pills. “These are nifty little things… Basically, they bring you fully into the moment. It’s like you’re totally yourself, totally present… And you don’t remember any of it the next day.”

Hunter balked at that, jerking his chin down in scrutiny. “That sounds… scary.”

“Don’t you wish you could forget, sometimes?” she asked, somewhat profound all of a sudden. “To just press pause on all of life and enjoy each minute?”

“I mean, yeah, but not remembering…?”

“It doesn’t make you do anything crazy. I think it just releases who you are, at the core. Without inhibitions. Without all the pressures and expectations of everyone else. Just you… and me… and a night to be free.” She shrugged, taking a pill and showing him how it melted on her tongue. “You can try just one – it will just be mild… if you want.” 

He watched her put another one into her mouth, feeling equally apprehensive and enticed. Out of the blue, Lyra’s face flashed across his mind, causing an immediate revolt from all his senses at once. Something inside of him felt odd, as though it were slashing through thick vines and roots to try to free itself. But it felt foreign, too… distinctly “other”. It was a tumultuous sensation, almost beyond his control, and he found that he did not like it one bit. 

He took one of the pills, sniffing it out of habit before swallowing it without further question. 

Luci smiled.

SONG TIME: David Guetta & Bebe Rexha - I'm Good (Blue) [Official Music Video] (youtube.com)

She pushed him until his back was flush against the wall, head spinning and heart racing. Her hands were heavy on his chest, his neck, his cheeks... She cupped his face with fervent desire, gazing affectionately into his eyes before closing her own, tilting her head, and pressing her lips to his. 

Her hands began to roam again, stroking and caressing, pulling feelings and yearnings and urges from him that had been dormant for so long until she’d awakened them. An initial resistance welled up, adding to the constant confusion, but it was soon diminished beneath her passion as she kissed him again and again. 

Heat flushed Hunter's body from head to toe, and he opened up to her, his fingers gripping her waist as he leaned in. A feminine, breathy sigh escaped her as the intensity grew, their faces pressed together, lips caressing and tugging. She opened her mouth more, sliding her tongue against his, and tingles coursed through his veins as he met her fervor with his own, squeezing his eyes tightly shut and losing himself to the ardor growing in his core. He didn’t notice the already-melting pills she’d moved from her mouth to his as she continued to ravish him.

She ran a hand up the back of his neck, digging it into his hair and tightening her grip, pulling back for a moment to regard him with unbridled lust. "You are so kriffing hot, you know that? Damn, the things I want to do to you..." she murmured, heavy-lidded eyes following the contour of his face as he opened his eyes to meet hers, smoldering with intensity. 

A small smile curved her cheeks, and she bit her lip before leaning in again. He was reeling from the sheer overwhelm of it all -- her scent, her breath, her body, her sensuality, her uncomplicated want for him. This was what he'd wanted, wasn't it? Freedom from responsibility, freedom to pursue a future of his own, freedom to release the burden of every possible consequence and to simply enjoy life on life's terms...

Her hand slipped beneath his shirt, his muscles tensing against her touch and fanning the flame where her fingernails gently raked up toward his chest. Soft lips trailed to his jawbone, below his ear, down the side of his neck, setting him on fire inside and out. Hunter tilted his head away, feeling her consuming desire spreading through his own chest. He felt as though he were spinning in place; every taste, scent, touch, and sound was amplified and improved.

This was what he had wanted. This was the right choice. 

Wasn't it? 

* * * 

Fanart by @clownbloody

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Stairs, so many stairs. Luci’s voluptuous curves moving ahead of him in serpentine mystery. Loud music and flashing lights. The rhythm thumping inside his chest. Bodies jostling against one another, loose and free. Weaving through the crowd, laughter and liquor and sweat and salt all blending into the beat. 

Deep green eyes finding his. Gentle arms around his neck. Her hips in his hands. Her breath and pulse melding into his. The music was what moved him; he was just a willing participant. Everyone was together and yet separate. Blending in seamless surrender to hedonistic folly.

He chased Luci along a side street, stumbling as people leapt out of the way. The cold night air burned his lungs, a sharp contrast to the heat radiating from his body until he plunged into water beside her. They floated on their backs in a large fountain, surrounded by music and laughter. Lights flashed from a nearby rooftop party, and the next thing he knew, they found themselves there. 

A sparkling disco ball scattered beams of light across the area, refracting every color into splintered shards of rainbow on people’s faces, drinks, chests, and backs. A tall Twi’lek with a metallic gold dress slithered up behind Hunter as Luci was grinding against his front, his hands on her hips as his head tilted back, and the strong green body pressed against his back, swaying in perfect time. Luci glanced back, laughing in delirious joy, and reached her arms over her head, red curls scattering everywhere as she lost herself in the music.

He pressed her against the wall in the hallway, jostled by people making their way to and from the refreshers. Her lips were hot and heavy on his neck, hands pulling his waist ever closer, until she paused for a moment, pulling back to regard him with a suddenly serious expression. Tears in her eyes, a frown on her lips. He bent his head down, touching the side of his face to hers, and she whispered in his ear. 

“Sometimes it all just feels so empty.”

And then she was on him again, coaxing sensations that threatened to overtake him.

Small red lamps glowed on each table in the center of each booth in the dimly-lit room. It was a temporary reprieve from the jam-packed chaos of the streets and clubs, and the food tasted like nothing he’d ever had before. The textures of each bite came alive in his mouth, flavors combining effortlessly – sweet and spicy, savory and tart… Luci climbed into his lap, banging the table as she straddled him. She held up a piece of cheesy bread in her fingers, inviting him to eat it from her hand, which he immediately did. With a giggle, she buried her hands in his hair, tugging it free from the pigtails, and bent over him to bring her mouth to his. 

The rest of the night was a blur.

.

I stole the inspo for his hair from this post by @raevulsix 😂

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[staycalmandhugaclone]

Fool's Errand Pt 7

Part (7) of Fool's Errand, the next arc of Doc's Misadventures! If you're new, start at the beginning with Touch Starved!

Gonna call this the halfway point, maybe

Warnings: impatience toward a child (kinda? I mean, yuh know... Crosshair), guilt, medical procedure/ gore, fantasy profanity (that warning always makes me giggle), sexual innuendo ish, gonna also add romantic tension because it's not really sexual tension, self-depreciating thoughts, body horror

WC: 3,755

“That's my arm… leg… That's still my arm…” There was a faint growl in the sigh that followed as the child continued pestering the irritated sniper, and my lips ached from how tightly I had to bite them to hold back my grin.

Wrecker offered none of my self-restraint, expression softened beneath a deep warmth, though there was no hiding the underlying sorrow in his gaze.

“How's the leg?” I asked quietly, attention focused on checking Hunter's chest tube and vitals before moving to look over Tech as well. He gave an almost bored shrug.

“Hurts a bit, but not like before.” He didn't take his eyes off the pair across from him as he spoke.

“When we reach the Marauder, I’ll give you something to relax, then we'll see if Cross and I can get it back in.” I told him gently. He let out a quiet hum in response.

“Think she means your armor.” He called out, voice still strangely hushed. I glanced over my shoulder to see Crosshair shoot his brother an unamused glare, but, when the girl pointed to his forearm, he let out resigned huff.

“Vambrace." He said, word perfectly monotone, and the excited gasp that followed left him dropping his face heavily into his hand, instantly drawing a wide smile across my lips. Wrecker returned that smile only briefly before sinking back into a quiet shame.

“She'll warm up to you.” I promised, leaning over to bump my shoulder against his, but he merely replied with a halfhearted nod.

The girl still hadn’t said a word, soundlessly communicating with a nod or a frown, though her expressions were so vibrant, we needed little assistance in understanding her. Meanwhile, Hunter and Tech remained unconscious. Though both were stable, the longer Tech’s arm remained in that tourniquet, the greater the risk of it causing damage to the limb.

“N- Those aren’t toys.” Cross nearly snapped, only belatedly forcing his voice into a tense murmur. I looked back to see the girl still tugging at one of the reflector disks at his waist, undeterred. He let out a poorly stifled growl before snatching at one of the disks and tossing it to her, earning a beaming grin.

“Why don’t yuh sit down? We’re still a few minutes away, an’ yuh look beat.”  Wrecker asked softly. An excuse danced readily over my tongue, but, as I turned to face him, as I noted the gentle concern in his bright eyes, that excuse faded before ever being granted voice. And he was far from wrong. I felt the way my shoulders sagged despite some lingering attempt to fight back that oppressive exhaustion, the weariness of muscles long since pleading for respite, and I couldn’t help but let out a quiet sigh.

“Maybe you’re right.” I murmured quietly. “Just for a bit.” He offered a small grin as I settled into the seat beside him, gaze wandering over Crosshair once more with an air of amusement at his resigned glare while the girl practically sat in his lap as she leaned over to tap his bandoleer.

The medbay of the Marauder was never meant for this; it was meant to offer only a liminal reprieve while en route to a proper medical center, more akin to a transport than a place of actual healing, but this was war, and what was once the bare minimum quickly became fantastical ideals in the face of necessity. There was no surgical suite. There was no hope for sterility nor endless supply of equipment, but none of that changed the reality of what was before me; Tech would either bleed out or lose his arm if I couldn’t locate and fix the vessels that had been severed in the crash.

He lay unconscious atop my bed; the same bed in which he’d spent nearly a week suffering beneath the horrors of withdrawal from those wretched fungal spores; the same bed that had seen each of the brothers relax upon as I eased their aches with leisurely massages; the same bed Crosshair and I had slept together in nearly every night since the loss of my brother.

It felt like I’d barely slept a few minutes when Wrecker woke me. A quick glance at my chrono confirmed exactly that, but we’d reached the Marauder, and there simply wasn't time for anything more. I rubbed weary hands over my eyes, forcing back the nausea that so often followed in the wake of a far too short rest, and pretended not to notice how closely Crosshair was watching me.

With his help, we'd gotten Wrecker on board first, then Hunter. The movement had woken him, and we’d barely made it up the ramp before he shrugged us off. I’d nearly objected, nearly thrown the words “chest-tube" and “collapsed lung" at him through snarled lips, and demanded he let us help, but the handful of steps weren't worth the fight, and, at the moment, Tech was in far greater danger.

“What do you need?” Crosshair asked, shoulders drawn back, eyes hard as he studied the pale form of his brother between us. I’d almost taken a moment to find something for him to do, some way for him to help, but I didn’t have time to walk him through how to help, nor did I have the energy.

“I’ve got him.” I promised quietly, already guiding a pair of shears around Tech’s shoulder to cut away the sleeve. “You should talk to the girl – no, I mean actually talk to her.” It wasn’t scolding, but, from the disdain that twisted his face, it might as well have been. “She may know something,” I pressed, “and, right now, she seems to like you the most.” His shoulders sank, eyes narrowing into a weak glare, but he knew I was right.

“I'm not a damn babysitter.” I had to fight back a smirk at the indignation in his voice, stealing a quick breath to quiet myself before responding.

“So, interrogate her. Nicely.” His glare deepened, but I merely rolled my eyes.

“I don't do nice.” He hissed, drawing a sigh from me. Movements unrushed by impatience or annoyance, I set down the sheers and walked around the bed toward him, lips barely hinting at a warm smile.

“I think we both know that's not true.” I murmured softly. He started to object, scowl just beginning to twist his face, but the heat behind it faded as I reached for him, hand moving up to brush lightly over his chest before caressing his jaw, his cheek, fingers subtly pulling him down. “You can be very sweet.” That harshness abandoned him as he let himself be drawn toward me.

“Just because you get special treatment doesn't mean I've gone soft.” He tried to rebuke, lips even tensing with the beginnings of a frown, but, again, his retort fell into something far too gentle for the words he’d said, annoyance robbed by the sight of the grin toying with my lips.

“We’ll have to talk more about that ‘special treatment’ later,” I nearly teased, “but, right now, Echo needs to focus on monitoring troop movement, Hunter and Tech are both out, and she's…” I didn't want to say it, the words cloying up my throat, “she’s afraid of Wrecker… You're the only one she trusts enough to hopefully open up to.” With an almost growled sigh, he stood back to his full height, reluctantly pulling away from me as his jaw jut forward, narrowed gaze turning toward the door.

“Seems to trust you just find, too.” He pointed out. I released a slow breath, exhaustion unsatiated by those few minutes of rest stolen during the flight now making itself known once more through both weariness and the beginnings of an impatience I fought to stem.

“I can't take care of Tech and talk to her, Crosshair.” I tried not to let my voice fall into a grumble, but it was near enough to draw his attention back to me, shoulders sinking slightly at what he saw, and my jaw tensed as I caved beneath the urge to look away.

“Alright.” The way the innate rasp in his voice quieted into a careful whisper sent a flutter of warmth through my chest, the heat of it both comforting and crippling as it stripped me of the meager strength granted by an impatience I was simply too tired to fully hide, and what stillness followed as my eyes rose to find him studying me with a concern that nearly brought a flush to my cheeks was a far too gentle thing amidst the knowledge of what grizzly tasks still awaited me.

I replied only with a grateful nod, lips tensing with a smile I couldn't quite manage before turning back to Tech. Crosshair didn't move at first, and I wondered what thoughts held him for those handful of seconds. Was he searching for some final excuse that might convince me to withdraw my request and free him of his dreaded task? Or was he waiting for me to falter, unconvinced by the determination I forced back into my eyes as I returned to his brother’s side?

Regardless if his hesitation was from doubt or concern or reluctance, he waited only a moment before finally leaving, granting me an isolation that offered just as much strife as it did comfort, absolving me of the need to maintain some façade that I might pretend I wasn’t fighting how heavily my shoulders sagged the instant the door slid shut even as it emphasized just how alone I was in this. After doing what I could for Tech, I'd need to check Hunter again before moving on to Wrecker. There was no luxury of a break, no hope for reprieve lest I risk sacrificing the well-being and safety of my men. So, I allowed myself to waste no more time, gaze traveling over the deep gash marring Tech's upper arm.

We like to feign knowledge even where nothing can be guaranteed. The human body exists in a constant state of change, and even aspects held as fact cannot be relied upon in the face of independent cases. Anatomy is based on averages which, at best, grant perfunctory guidance and, at worst, acts only as a distraction. Even clones proved far more unique than the Kaminoans liked to believe. Genetics may offer a foundation, but who and what we become develop independent of, and occasionally in spite of, that primordial code, from the moral of our character to how our actions alter the physicality of muscle and bone through years of hardship and abuse. Anatomy claims knowledge of where veins and arteries nestle beneath skin and tissue, but immaculate diagrams and ancient names meant nothing amidst the gore of shredded flesh and thickening blood.

It felt like hours passed in the span of a single, endlessly held breath as I carefully sought out severed vessels, each one needing meticulous care to be knit back together around a shunt and flushed of all threat of clots. Repairing the muscle was easier, and I was relieved to find no severed tendons. Still, the moment I finally released the tourniquet, my heart raced faster with each passing second, eyes glued to the monitors for any signs of distress. Did I miss something? Had I taken too long? Symptoms of compartment syndrome, limb ischemia, embolisms, stroke, and endless other complications roared through my head. If anything happened, if he was hurt even worse because I wasn’t careful enough or quick enough, there was no one to blame but me… But his heartbeat remained steady… There was no sudden change in protein levels in his blood… Still, I couldn't let myself breathe… not yet… I set what equipment I had to monitor him for any change, but... he seemed okay.

I watched him for a long moment, as though my very presence might delay or prevent complications, locked in that fear that something would go wrong the instant I so much as blinked, before forcing myself to walk away. There was more that needed to be done.

Strides heavy, I trudged through the door, absently working a wet cloth between my hands. Logically, I knew the latex gloves worked as intended, that my skin was untainted from his blood just as his wound was safe from whatever bacteria thrived on my fingertips, but I could still feel it: thick and viscous and everywhere, the scent of which clung to me just as relentlessly as the nauseating texture.

“Doc?”

My eyes darted up to find Wrecker watching me carefully, concern heavy atop his brow as his jaw hung open with an unspoken question, body frozen where he stood in the kitchenette, hand still outstretched toward a cabinet.

“Wrecker, what are you doing up?” I asked quickly, already trotting forward.

“Uh, just… figured I’d get the kid somethin’ to eat.” He answered absently, thoughts clearly elsewhere.  “Tech…” He started, and I realized why he seemed so distracted, chest bucking with a sharp inhale to answer him quickly.

“Recovering.” He let out a small sigh at my quiet reassurance. “There was a lot of damage, but it looks like I was able to repair it in time to keep the tourniquet from causing even more problems.” He was just about to reply, lips pulled into a relieved grin, but I interrupted him, words just shy of biting. “Speaking of ‘causing even more damage'…” There was a brief moment in which he seemed honestly confused. It took a mere flick of my eyes toward his knee, however, for a light blush and nervous smile to wash over him.

“Ah, well… with you being so busy, and we can all tell yuh need a break, Cross an’ Echo helped to just…” He motioned innocently toward the leg as he lifted it, bending the limb a few times as if to prove it was fine, but his hope for forgiveness crumbled amidst the darkness I could feel stealing over my expression. I knew they hadn't used muscle relaxers – I didn't keep any in my pack and no one had tried to sneak into the medbay while I tended Tech.

“Sit.” I ordered firmly, pointing to the small table. He hesitated, but held back whatever excuse or objection bated across his tongue as he sulked to the nearest chair. Without another word, I marched back into the hall, boots clicking loudly against the metal walkway as though to emphasize my annoyance.

The bunks were empty, as was the cabin when I entered it. Upon leaning down to grab my pack, however, footsteps sounded from the fore of the ship. I paused as Crosshair approached, not trying to hide the lingering annoyance from my gaze. He hesitated, confusion drawing his brows together.

“What?” The defensive snarl in his voice only furthered my irritation.

“I'll deal with you and Echo later.” I stated firmly. His expression pinched with indignation, but I didn't grant him time to form a retort before starting back toward mess, unable to deny the slight taste of pleasure at the note of apprehension that stilled any urge he may have had to follow with a sharp-tongued quip.

Wrecker hadn’t moved from the chair, hands thoughtlessly picking at his glove as he waited for me to return. His eyes snapped toward me as soon as the door opened. Whatever annoyance or anger I’d had abandoned me at the almost pitiful look on his face, tension fleeing me with a slow sigh.

“Didn’t mean to make yuh mad…” he muttered, teeth working over the inside of his cheek, and I had to fight the guilt that twisted through my chest.

“I’m not mad.” I whispered, walking quietly toward him. “I just… thought we were past this…” His head tilted slightly, looking at me with an uncertainty that further stoked my guilt. “This… dealing with things without me… Not letting me help you.” His eyes widened in understanding, back straightening as he drew a quick breath to respond, but I didn’t give him the chance.

“I know you’re strong.” He quickly stilled beneath the gentleness of my voice, the faintest hint of a blush just coloring his neck. “You’ve had to be – you and your brothers… You couldn’t rely on anyone else, so you had to figure out a way to survive alone – to make do…” As I spoke, I gently unwrapped the brace from his knee and held the scanner steadily over the still swollen joint, gaze studying the small screen. “And I know that you’ve taken on a lot more of that burden than anyone gives you credit for.” His shoulders sank slightly, gaze falling to the ground though he offered no objection.

“You calm them down when things get too heated… get them to laugh when everyone’s too angry or sad or tired to realize that that’s exactly what they need… what we need.” I corrected, acknowledging how often he’d done just that for me, as well. He remained silent, but I could feel his attention shift back to me as I began carefully working my hands over the wealth of muscle that tapered at the end of his thigh, touch flowing around areas the scan revealed to be damaged that I might ease some of the swelling before redressing it.

“I know it hurt.” I continued softly, a deep sympathy quieting my voice even further. “Reducing a dislocation… It feels a lot better afterwards, but…” Again, his lack of even a dismissive grunt only confirmed my statement. “And you… all that muscle…” I let my fingers spread over the dense cords stretching down his thigh, “It doesn’t matter how hard you try, with an injury like that, you can’t relax them. It’s an autonomic response, that’s why we use medication to help make them relax.” I glanced up at him to let him see the concern in my eyes as my hands returned to that careful, rhythmic ebb and flow along the abused tissue.

“I know you’re strong… probably barely even grunted when they did it… but forcing it like that, it can tear ligaments and tendons, and rip all that muscle that’s locked up trying to guard the joint… then it takes even longer to heal, and, even then, it usually doesn’t heal as well as it could have.” His jaw shifted absently to the side, teeth grinding in a mixture of guilt and resignation, rekindling my own guilt.

“I’m sorry.” I barely whispered it, hands coming to a stop atop the broad curve of his calf. A fresh confusion pulled at his handsome face, mismatched eyes studying me with a focus that was somehow just as quieting as it was penetrating.

To anyone else, seeing him like that, expression pinched with powerful brows drawn together and that broad jaw tensed enough to emphasize the cords of muscle lining his cheeks, he may have looked frightening. I knew others would have found him frightening… but I also knew what drove the intensity of his gaze; the desperate need to truly understand those around him; to read them before he might do or say something that would offend or scare absent need or intent. That’s why he was so gentle; so adept at buffering the fiery tempers of his brothers or, if the mood struck him, stoking the tempers of any unfortunate enough to garner his ire. Now, however, he stared at me like that neither to soothe nor harass. He studied me because those words didn’t make sense amidst the blame he believed himself responsible for, and he needed to understand before he could make it right. But I didn’t want him to feel that way. I only wanted him to be okay.

“I should have been faster.” I didn’t stop at the flash of realization that came over him, nor from the almost pained remorse that followed. “Leaving you with a dislocated knee for… hours – kriff… I really can’t blame you for wanting them to fix it any way they could.”

“Doc-” He called, shoulders sinking, but again fell silent as I looked up at him with a weary, apologetic smile.

“But next time,” I pressed, sowing something of a command back into my voice, “at least check with me first… Alright?” He was quiet for a moment longer before nodding, but the words that followed made my stomach sink.

“I mean… not like popping a knee back in is more important than saving Tech’s arm, so…” He said it was such offhanded disregard, body shifting in a dismissive shrug. When he looked at me, however, he froze, and I could only guess at the deep heartbreak surely painted across my face.

“You’re important.” I breathed the words into the too-great distance between us, pressing each one into existence with a desperate plea, begging him to believe me. “You’re important, Wrecker.” I said again, reaching up to cradle one of his hands between mine. It always surprised me; the sheer size of him. It was somehow so easy to forget amidst his vibrant, caring personality until moments like this when I could see how he dwarfed me, palm too wide for my fingers to fully wrap around.

That size also made it easy to imagine him as this invincible, impenetrable force, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. I’d seen how deeply the girl’s fear had wounded him, how beaten he looked from the mere threat of my anger, and I hated myself for having caused him such hurt, for ever allowing him to think of himself as lesser than his brothers. Chest jerking with a sharp inhale, I pulled his hand toward me, lips pressing gently against his knuckles, and I mourned the cause of every scar marring that stunning, calloused skin.

“I never want you to think you’re not… not to me.” His hand shifted ever so slightly between mine, twisting as though he meant to reach for me, fingertip only just brushing against my chin before he pulled away, throat shifting stiffly as he swallowed whatever thoughts he’d robbed of any hope of being born. With a final, jerked nod, he leaned back, and the room felt that much colder without the heat of his touch, but I merely drew a deep, steadying breath and let my attention return to his knee, already reaching for a tube of bacta.

“All right. You going to drop your pants, or do I need to cut them off of you?”

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[moonstrider9904]

Sing Me Like a Folk Song

Crosshair x Female OC (Clair)

Summary: During a calm night at their cottage, Crosshair and his wife have some time to kill while a cake bakes in the oven.

Word count: 2.4k

Tags: Explicit, Smut, 18+ adults only. Domesticity, TBB canon divergent universe, established relationship and marriage, baking and handling of food, soft smut, PIV sex, creampie, oral sex.

This work is part of the Moonlight universe. If you want to read how Crosshair and Clair got together, you should totally check out that story too!!

Main Masterlist | One-shot Masterlist | Crossposted to AO3

Crosshair stepped forward silently, his former sniper instincts creeping into his movements, and he leaned forward for his head to be at the level of his wife’s. His ever-watchful gaze looked over her shoulder as she poured the batter into the sheet and used an offset spatula to even it out, and then, she added the layer of almond-coffee cream on top of the luscious, white cream cheese filling, smoothing that out too. That was his favorite part to watch when she prepared the cake that had quickly become his favorite.

Like music filling his senses, Clair chuckled as she reached for the cake batter to repeat another layer.

“I can feel you there, Cross,” she mused.

Crosshair smiled, and he set his hands gently on her waist, snaking them around her figure, feeling the fabric of her flower-printed dress and the pale pink apron she wore under his touch. He pressed his tall figure onto her small one and delicately kissed her temple, and he took a deep breath that allowed him to get a whiff of the sugar and butter and coffee and almond. Whenever his wife worked her magic in the kitchen, he felt like he was in heaven, but then again, his entire home, their cottage, their little town, and their planet, would qualify as paradise to anyone.

“Good,” Crosshair replied to Clair’s remark.

She laughed softly again. “I kind of need a full range of motion in my arms for this, Berry Pie.”

“You’re the expert baker, that shouldn’t stop you,” Crosshair tightened his grip around her.

Clair giggled. “That’s what I get for making your favorite cake.”

Crosshair peppered kisses around the side of Clair’s face, with gratitude sprinkled over each one of them, and he smirked into her skin when he felt her cheek becoming plump resulting from her own smile. Clair could ask for nothing more—she already had the two things she loved most in the universe, and when they would be together in one calm night in her cottage, baking a delicious cake as she was held by her beloved husband… it let her know life was good, but it wasn’t as if she ever doubted.

Clair had no reason to doubt since she met Crosshair, smirking at her and devouring her with his gaze that day at the Allium café. And he had been a tough nut to crack, but he’d cracked nonetheless, and the snarky, war-driven sniper now clung to her from behind, eagerly watching as she placed raw batter into a pan all because he’d expressed a craving for something sweet, something other than his beautiful wife.

Like an artist brushing paint over a canvas, Clair swirled the offset spatula and smoothed off the last of the batter, evening it out so that it would bake perfectly in the oven. There was just one more detail left, and from a nearby container, Clair grabbed the lumps of butter, flour, and sugar that she’d made before assembling the cake, and she began to sprinkle them over the top of the raw batter.

Crosshair watched her delicate fingers sprinkling the lumps that would result in an exquisite crumble topping, one of the best parts of the cake beside the creamy, sugary almond filling between the layers of bread, and he felt his mouth watering already. Crosshair then removed one of his hands from Clair’s waist and he reached for the glass container where the rest of the raw crumble topping was, and he took a piece from the container into his mouth, not giving a damn if the flour was raw. A little bit wouldn’t do him any harm, as Clair told him each time she baked something. Clair smiled brightly at what Crosshair had just done, and when she saw his hand reaching for another chunk, she playfully swatted it away with the softest of touches.

“You’ll get a bellyache, love,” she said.

Crosshair chuckled, the sound deep and purring into the curve of Clair’s neck, and he let his lips dance around her skin once more and travel up until they were at the level of hers. Clair turned her head and faced him, and she kissed his lips with a passion not unlike the one shared during their first kiss ever. The seconds they spent kissing felt like one delightful eternity, and when Crosshair broke the kiss to look into her deep brown eyes, he let his inner softness emerge as he smiled at his beloved wife.

“I love you so much,” Crosshair whispered before leaning in again, resuming their kiss. He circled his arms around her waist once more and pulled her closer, and Clair giggled into the kiss, causing his chest to flutter. He loved that sound, and he could listen to it forever. It meant that she was happy and that she felt loved, and that was Crosshair’s single duty for the rest of his life.

At least, until it shared priority with a little one who came into the family.

Clair broke the kiss, giggling breathlessly, and Crosshair smirked at how he was still able to leave her dazed and flustered. Shyly, Clair tucked a strand of her black, silky hair behind her ear, and she reached out to get her oven mittens to then clutch the pan with the raw cake.

“Time to put this in the oven,” she cooed.

“Let me,” Crosshair reached for her hands.

But Clair shook her head in return, always proud of her duty as a baker. “Nope. I got it.”

Crosshair leaned on the counter as he watched Clair moving around the kitchen, from the way she opened the oven to how she took the cake and placed it inside, closing the oven door again and setting the timer down on the counter next to the oven. Crosshair’s gaze scanned every curve of Clair’s body when she bent over to put the cake in and when she straightened back up again, and his heart swole with affection at the intimacy of the sight, suddenly overcome with the need to have his arms around her again. With delicate movements, Clair had removed her oven mittens and cast them aside, and her big brown eyes were on him again as she directed a soft smile his way.

“Now we wait,” Clair said.

Crosshair tilted his head and raised his brows as he smirked, pacing over at Clair and reaching out to hold her waist again. “How long do we have to wait?”

“70 minutes,” Clair replied. “This one’s a slow cooker.”

“Oh,” Crosshair moaned softly, pulling Clair closer and feigning wonder. “70 minutes… What can we do in 70 minutes?”

Clair giggled and blushed at his flirting. “I don’t know. Enlighten me.”

Crosshair let out another soft moan that became a chuckle as he bent down, wrapping his arms firmly below Clair’s behind. When he straightened his figure, Crosshair lifted Clair directly up, reveling in her delighted laugh as she kissed him. Then, he slowly set her back down, but their kiss didn’t stop. As he felt Clair’s hands slide up his chest and find their rest at the back of his neck, Crosshair let his own hands travel to the curve of her back where the pale pink apron was tied. With an intricate touch, Crosshair undid the knot behind her back, and then he did the same with the straps that tied around the back of Clair’s neck until the apron was free for him to cast it aside, letting it rest over a chair. Clair whimpered softly into his lips, and the sound set Crosshair ablaze.

He’d waste no more time, and he’d make the most out of those 70 minutes. He bent over and picked Clair up once more, carrying her towards the living room the way he had done through the threshold when she became his bride. Crosshair set her figure delicately over the couch to then hover over her and cage her to it. Their kisses grew in passion and the heat built up between them, and Crosshair slid his hands up the smooth skin of Clair’s legs, slowly snaking under her skirt and up her thighs until they reached the fabric of her lace panties. Crosshair smirked upon feeling the lace at his fingertips, and he wrapped his hands around the rims to pull them down and cast them aside too as he quickly scurried downwards.

Peppering kisses up Clair’s legs, Crosshair slid himself under Clair’s skirt and let the flower-printed fabric drape over his head, shielding each other from their view. Clair looked down at Crosshair under the skirt of her dress and shuddered briefly in excitement, and a velvety moan escaped her when she felt Crosshair brushing his tongue over her sensitive folds. Her hips instantly bucked forward, seeking more of that friction, but she knew her husband well enough to know she didn’t have to ask for it. Crosshair pressed himself more onto Clair’s skin and made love to her folds long enough to bring her climax close, and then he shifted his approach, using his fingers to lift the hood of her clit and grant his tongue better access to the swollen, sensitive pearl.

He flicked his tongue in quick, repetitive motions over the bud and heard Clair’s breath quicken, with her moans and whimpers increasing in pace and in pitch. It wasn’t long before Clair’s thighs were clenching around Crosshair and her moaning filled the entire cottage, with her hips rutting against him to heighten her already breathtaking waves of pleasure. When Crosshair moaned into her clit, Clair threw her head back in ecstasy, as it was the last detail that crowned her orgasm, rendering it one of the best Crosshair had gifted to her. He continued to moan and grunt into Clair’s cunt, adding more and more to her pleasure until she was just at the edge of not being able to withstand such intensity any longer, and Crosshair emerged from beneath her skirt, granting her a moment to catch her breath as he scurried onto the couch next to her.

When Clair regained herself, she climbed onto Crosshair and straddled him. Hungrily, Clair kissed his lips, devouring him as she could taste herself on him, and she trailed her kisses downwards to suck and nibble on the flesh on Crosshair’s neck. Nipping at every one of his sweetest spots, Clair was able to draw moans, and even a few well-placed whimpers, from her otherwise stoic and composed husband. And as she continued, her hands traveled down to undo his trousers, to which Crosshair immediately obliged.

Clair lifted herself from him to get the pants off him with her mouth watering, and she was about to bend over to suck on his large erection when Crosshair gently clenched her cheeks and turned her face to look at him.

“There’ll be time for that later, darlin’,” Crosshair uttered. “I want to be inside you now.”

Clair cooed and giggled as she adopted her previous position, lifting her skirt so that she could position her thighs around Crosshair’s hips, and she sat down on him, moaning at the stretch of his cock inside her walls. Crosshair muttered silent praises at her, and he wrapped his arms around Clair’s waist, holding her so close that her body somehow felt smaller in his grip. She bounced softly on his cock, the pace slow and without any hurry, so tender and delicious, letting the couple feel everything.

Clair looked deep into his eyes as he helped her move up and down his shaft, and Crosshair became immersed in the pleasure flooding his body. His wife gazed down at him sweetly, smiling at him, and even when she muttered loving declarations or tender praise, he didn’t have the headspace to process it. It was enough just to look at her as her figure bounced delicately, and the closer Crosshair got to his release, the more often he shuddered and grunted, part of him wanting to extend the moment to wait for her.

But Clair rested her forehead on his, smiling. “You can cum, love… I want to see you.”

Crosshair moaned and let his head fall back for a moment. If Clair kept speaking like that, he’d take her up on it, and it seemed as if his wife could read his mind at that moment. She whispered sweet words of encouragement, pulling him closer over the edge until all that was left for him was to fall, and Crosshair’s body trembled when the pleasure unleashed itself within him. During the last few moments before his release, Crosshair found it in himself to open his eyes and gaze into Clair’s, and the only thought that could run through his mind was how much he loved that woman, how he worshiped the ground she walked on. Finally, with Clair invading every corner of his mind and his body, Crosshair released inside of her and spilled hot white ropes inside her walls, filling her up so deliciously that she moaned at the sweet tightness inside.

With a bright smile, Clair slipped outside of Crosshair and sat down next to him on the couch, curling up beside him. Her hand rested softly on his chest over the fabric of his shirt, feeling as Crosshair’s pecs rose and fell, with the pace slowly coming back to normal. The two remained there, silent, full of intention to continue gracing one another with wave after wave of pleasure, though only finding it in themselves to bask in the other’s presence. There was nothing else they needed at the moment.

Crosshair looked at Clair and softly leaned in to kiss her forehead. As his lips were in contact with the warmth of her skin, he felt a wave of the sweet, warm scent of the cake baking in the oven—he’d forgotten about that for a moment—and a smile curved his lips as he took a deep inhale and filled his senses with it.

Clair took notice and chuckled. “Does that smell nice?”

“Mm-hmm,” Crosshair agreed, his eyes closing and body relaxing on the couch.

Clair clenched her fist around his shirt and kissed his chest softly before looking up at him. “Do you wanna go stare at the oven?”

Crosshair laughed softly and opened his eyes to kiss his wife’s forehead again. “Yes.”

With an amount of energy that astonished Crosshair for a moment, Clair got up and tugged on Crosshair’s hand, helping him up to standing, and the two made their way into the kitchen once more.

Thank you so much for reading! If you like this, please consider reblogging too to support me!

Back to Moonlight Masterlist

[lightspringrain]

Chapter 3 "Devour Hope" is here! Thank you for the wait. Writing this chapter honestly was such a challenge but was super fun. I hope you enjoy!

[amorfista]

"Stargazing"

A little fanart for @freesia-writes and her amazing Tech and Vel fanfic ♥ which has me completely hooked!! They are so fricking cute together and this scene made me MEEEEELTTTTTT♥ couldn't help but sketch something up ♥ THANK YOU FOR BLESSING US FREE!!! ❤️‍🔥​

[retrospect1003]

Calling All Skeletons

The beginnings of my tbb x oc fanfiction! This is mainly a slow burn romance between Wrecker and oc, Doc. This takes place during season 1 episode 5 and will follow the show's story. I'm new to this writing fanfiction thing, so bare with me! I hope you all enjoy!

Word count: ~2.4k

Banner by: @blackseafoam

Chapter 1: Crash Landing

As the Havoc Marauder glides over Ord Mantell, a seemingly recent crash site is noticed outside of the city. The smoke danced out of the dismembered ship as the batch of clones observed from the forward cabin.

“That does not bode well for us,” Tech stated as he maneuvered to the landing site.

Hunter kept his eyes on the crashed ship, “While I doubt anyone survived that crash, we’ll stay vigilant and avoid making too much noise.”

With that said, the Marauder hovers down the landing port and securely lands. The group rehashes rules with Omega and, with a placement of their helmets, they head into the city in search of Cid.

From inside the city, a poorly disguised imperial medic stumbles out of an alleyway. Blue and green paint drips from her arms and runs down the dents and wears in the armor. Her helmeted head tilted up to the sky, a familiar ship flying overhead.

“An omicron-class assault shuttle?” The medic questioned quietly to herself as she began to assess her situation.

With a heavy disgruntled sigh, she moved forward to another alleyway to investigate the ship further. Traversing through the unknown of the city, each step taken questioned if it was going in the right direction.

“Remember the rules?” Asked an unfamiliar voice down the way.

The voice brought the medic’s feet to a halt, her eyes moving to investigate. It took no time for her to duck down behind a crate, recognizing the distinctly armored clones and observing from her place. The realization pushed through the countless questions in her mind. These were the deserter clones and child from Kamino. Wanting to solidify her thoughts, her hands typed away on her data pad and found the reports. Tucking her data pad away into a bag on her belt, the medic begins her pursuit of the assault shuttle from earlier once again. Her senses have seemingly returned to her as she searches the city’s layout and successfully finds a path to the ship port.

With some trial and error, the painted medic was gazing at the omicron-class shuttle and taking in each of its features. It was like the aura of the ship was drawing her closer to it, much different than other shuttles she’d been around. Her hand hesitated before meeting the ship’s side instinctively, her lips curling up into a small smile as her shoulders relaxed.

“I hope I’m making the right choice,” the medic whispered to herself as her hands and eyes studied the shuttle.

“We’ll be in and out of there in no time!” Wrecker exclaims with a hearty laugh.

Tech is quick to reply to Wrecker, “While the job seems to be simple, we shouldn’t assume all will go well. When does it ever?”

Hunter examines the drive Cid handed off to them as the squad makes their way back to the ship. Saving a kid and maybe some others from slavers shouldn’t be too much of a challenge for them, right? Sounds like a breeze compared to escaping the Empire. He held the chip between two of his fingers and tilted his hand out, Tech taking it away and beginning to analyze.

The entrance to the port was approaching, a sight that should be reassuring yet Hunter stops in his tracks as he brings his fist up. He noticed some colored splotches along the way  with some tracks, pointing them out to the others as he brought out his blaster. Starting to move in to watch from the entrance, there’s a single armored person who was… covered in paint?

“Who’s that?” Omega questioned.

“Not sure. Stay in the middle of us,” Hunter readied his aim on the unknown figure by the Marauder. Omega didn’t bother asking questions as she positioned herself between all her brothers with their guns ready at the aim.

Hunter moved out slowly with the batch so they all had good eyes on the target, “Drop any weapons on you.”

The medic’s body tensed at the demanding words said behind her back. Her hand found the blaster holstered on her hip and threw it to the ground before raising her hands above her head. Taking a heavy breath in and out, she turned her body slowly to the voice.

With a lighthearted sigh, the medic took a turn to speak, “I’ve been waiting to talk to you guys!”

Her hands move slowly and lift off her helmet. Her ashy brown hair is tied up in a bun, many stray hairs falling out of place messily. Her green eyes, accompanied by dark tired bags, crinkled as a smile curved her lips.

“They call me Doc,” she revealed as her gloved hand pushed back the hairs in her face, “Before you shoot me, I need some help. If you’ll hear me out.” Her brows furrowed with soft eyes.

The squad of defiant clones eyed Doc suspiciously as she moved and spoke. Doc kept her hands where they all could see them, even if her nerves were starting to tingle. Hunter eyes each of her features and gestures before lowering his weapon with a disgruntled sigh.

“You’ve got a minute to explain.”

Doc nodded as she began, “The Empire started recruiting soldiers from planetary defense forces, and I was part of the first Elite Squad as a medic. I thought the Empire was going to better the galaxy…” She struggled to find her words, “that was, until I was forced to follow unneeded violent orders. After we left Onderon and returned to Kamino, I stole a ship, I crashed it here, and I hope they think I’m dead.”

At the mention of Onderon, the brothers looked between each other. Her story seemed to make sense, and it also explained the crashed ship outside of the city. Doc shifted awkwardly where she stood, hands still raised in the air while watching them.

Omega spoke into her comm device in a whisper, “I think she’s like us.”

Wrecker was first to look at Omega and then back at the medic. From under his helmet, he was smiling eagerly. His head turned to Omega and gave her a small nod. There wasn’t much time to debate the medic’s situation as Hunter holstered his blaster, inviting the others to do the same.

“Just get on the ship. Don’t think you’re trusted yet,” Hunter glared at Doc as the hatch to the Marauder lowered.

Picking up and holstering her blaster, Doc gave Hunter an understanding nod and watched as the others loaded into the ship, “I get it. Thank you.” Doc followed behind, “Knowing some names would be pretty nice too,” she added with a cheeky smile.

Omega piped up first as she stood in front of Doc, “I’m Omega, and these are my brothers Hunter, Tech, Echo, and Wrecker,” pointing to each of her brothers.

“Brothers, you say?” Doc questioned lightly before shrugging it off, “Well, it’s nice to meet you and your brothers, Omega.”

With a nod, Omega walked off with Echo and to find her trooper toy. Doc on the other hand admired the interior of the ship as she made her way up to the front cabin. She couldn’t wrap her head around the fact a group of rogue clones managed to make a ship into a home.

“You mentioned the Empire recruiting soldiers including yourself. Was it just your squad or are there others?” Tech questioned Doc with a glance before returning back to his data pad.

Doc whipped her head around, snapping out of her thoughts of the Marauder, “Well, I don’t have an exact number.” She paused for a moment before continuing on, “I know there were many more offering their services or asked by the Empire to join the Galactic Army. I was one of the first and didn’t interact many with soldiers outside of my squad.”

Hunter thought through her words before adding to the conversation, “Why would the Empire be training people to be soldiers when they’re supplied with clones?”

“I have no clue. I thought the same thing you did when they offered to train me.” Doc leaned her back against the wall, “I understand why you all left.”

Wrecker was making an attempt to listen to the conversation, but the pang of pain in his head made it a weaker attempt. He groaned as he held his head, hunched over in his seat.

Hunter turns to his brother with a hint of concern, “You all right?”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s nothing,” Wrecker groaned as he stood and began to walk away.

Doc placed a hand on the large clone’s arm to stop him from leaving, “I can run a diagnostic and provide a remedy for the ache.” She offered to Wrecker, “I’m specifically trained in this. It wouldn’t hurt to let me give it a shot.”

Wrecker’s eyes found Doc and he once again tried to shrug it off, mostly to avoid having to sit and get stuck for a diagnostic, “No, really. I’m fine-”

“Please. It’s the least I can do,” Doc nearly pleaded to Wrecker, “We can skip the in depth diagnostic if that’ll convince you.”

There was a brief pause between the two before Wrecker let out a deep sigh, “Fine, but just this once.”

“Fine, just this once,” Doc assured with a grin as she moved her arm for Wrecker to walk to the back of the Marauder.

Slumping into one of the swivel chairs, Wrecker released a mild groan with a hand on his head. The sharp stabbing pain followed with throbs was too much to handle, even for a person of his strength and stature. Doc took her seat across from Wrecker, setting her data pad and backpack to the side. A few bacta patches were pulled out along with different bottled  liquids and pastes before she stood up.

“I’m going to do a quick examination to try and determine what kind of headache you have,” Doc explained gently as she placed a hand over the one on his head, “Will you let me do that?”

Wrecker had his eyes closed tightly as she spoke, up until he felt her touch. His eyes slowly peaked open to look at Doc as he moved his hand from his head hesitantly. Doc shared a soft smile before looking for any bruising and coming up short.

“This might be silly to ask,” she started with a hum, “but have you hit your head at all recently? Multiple times?”

Wrecker let out a gruff chuckle, “I hit my head all the time! Nothin’ I can’t take!” He claimed with confidence, a grimace and groan following after his words.

Doc rolled her eyes at his words as she brought out her flashlight, “Ah, right. The big tough guys don’t get hurt,” she chuckled.

“Hey! I didn’t say I didn’t get hurt, I said I can take it!”

“Yeah, yeah. Now, tilt your head up,” the medic bantered as her hand slid down his head to his chin. Her fingers beckoned him to turn his face up towards her, Wrecker complying as his eyes met hers. The touch was demanding, yet felt soft and caring, even through a glove. A warmth ran through his body and appeared faintly on his cheeks. The stare they shared was short-lived as Doc turns on her flashlight and dims it, “I’m going to flash this light into your eyes. I’m testing for light sensitivity and to be sure your eyes…”

She paused as she looked back into his eyes, focusing specifically on the left one. This then led to Doc grabbing his chin and turning his face away to get a better look at his scar. Doc managed to successfully snap Wrecker from his thoughts as he raised an eyebrow, “Uh, what’re ya doin’?”

Tilting her wrist, she brings Wrecker’s face back towards her, “Can you see from your left eye at all?”

Wrecker closed his right eye, forming a wink, “Not much. Everything’s blurry and looks like shadows.”

“Noted,” She brought the flashlight up and beamed it into his left eye, noticing little to no dilation from his pupil, “Open the other eye.”

Following her instruction, Wrecker opened his eye to be met with a light, “Agh!” He was quick to shut his eye tight, batting away the hand holding the flashlight, “What was that for?!”

“I warned you!” Doc turned the flashlight off, turning to the items she set out. Examining a bottle, she grinned, “To make up for it, I have a drink for you that’ll ease your headache.”

“Like medicine?”

“No, like tea. This isn’t anything the Empire or the Republic would’ve given you.”

Doc unscrewed the lid of the bottle and offered it to Wrecker, “It works best if you drink it slowly over the next twenty or so minutes.” Wrecker eyed the bottle, not sure if he should accept, but his headache urged him differently. He takes the bottle, bringing it to his lips and tilting it back. A silky sweet flavor danced on his tongue before he swallowed, his eyes widening and lips parting to reveal a toothy grin.

“Where’d ya learn to make this? It’s great!” Wrecker complimented as he went for another sip.

The medic sat back in the seat across from Wrecker with a short laugh, “I’m self-taught. Used to play around with herbs and stuff. I’m glad you like it.”

“You need to make more of it!” Wrecker started to take longer drinks, her instructions and his headache leaving his mind.

Doc shook her head with a shy smile, “Maybe I will.”

The two shared identical looks with one another before feeling the ship turn to land. They both stood up to get ready to go, bumping into each other before trying to awkwardly move out of the way. Doc gave up and sat back down to gather her things, “My bad, you go ahead. I’ll catch up.”

Wrecker lifted his helmet, placing it on, “Nah, uh, don’t worry about it.” The words struggled in his mouth as he walked away to leave the ship. The medic muffled a chuckle before swinging her bag over her shoulders, following after Wrecker with her helmet.

Notes: Well, that's the first chapter! Kind of a rough start, but I'm hoping to improve as I go. Thanks for reading! (Also should I upload this to AO3?)

[oceansssblue]

Hello! I hope you’re doing well! Can I request a fic where Omega gets injured and separated from the Batch for a few days, and the reader (female) takes care of her until they can find her brothers? One night stormtroopers/imperials come in to try and take her, but reader is a BAMF (maybe an ex-battlefield medic? She has access to blasters, knives, smoke grenades, etc. to make another part of this more believable) and is able to fight them off pretty easily. The problem is actually when the Batch shows up, and reader thinks they’re the enemy and the Batch thinks she’s holding Omega hostage or something. And thus, reader vs. the bad batch begins! No one kills each other because Omega comes down and clears everything up upon her hearing her brothers. It just took her a while to come over because, you know, injury.

Also I think it’d be fun if the reader did manage to pin Hunter, even if it’s only for a second and then she would likely get pinned back because . . . It’s the bad batch.

Sure thing love, I'm down!

Xx,

Sky.

"NOT YOUR ENEMY"

HUNTER/F READER 📩💖(💔)

WARNINGS: blood&wound, stitches, light mention of atempted assault to omega (nothing happens further than words), reader being a badass and killing some storm-troopers, fire/explosions, reader being shot, some teasing/sexual tension with Hunter... A hint of competency kink? It's mostly action/fluff!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You were just on your way back home after collecting your credits when your eyes capture the shine of a blade with the reflection of the moonlight. You've been trained to focus on such things; possible weapons, always being aware of your surroudings. If you're distracted, your dead. You weren't always; but it comes as natural as breathing to you, now.

You're not in the mood for a fight, though; so once you realise you're not the one in danger, you decide to pass this one out. If you go looking for a fight, it will find you. You're still tired of your last hunt; you're not feeling the thrill of a new chase just yet. That's until you hear a voice; way too innocent and young to be stuck in such a situation without proper defence.

Your steps backtrack silently and your eyes quickly scan the alley. It's a human girl; blonde, petite, and no older than fourteen. There are three males closing up on her; two humans, one twi'lek. You see the girl trying to get pass them, a nervous anxious smile on her face. You make your resolve right then and there.

You've got to be careful. You can't save everyone.

You move so quietly towards them they don't even realise you're right at their back until you voice up your request with your blaster pointing straight at them.

"Let's keep going on with our peacefull night walk, boys".

It's serious, firm, feigning boredom. Inside, you're as coiled as a snake, ready to strike.

Ready. Always ready. Don't trust anyone. An innocent looking enemy might be your death if you don't take him seriously, if you don't think he's a danger. If you grow complacent.

They glance at each other, evaluating their chances against you. Then down at the girl; their price if they won, or the reason of their downfall if they decide to engage you and lose. One of the humans shrugs lazily, making a head gesture towards the other two. They slowly follow him out of the alley.

"All yours" the last one snorts when he passes by you.

If someone backs down, let them go.

You swallow your furious retort and take hold of the girls wrist, tugging her in the other opening of the alley, opposite direction to them. You don't trust them not to follow you, try to catch you by surprise, so you don't stop until you're at the other side of town, walking towards the outskirts in the direction of your small house. You're still vigilant all the way.

"You alright, blondie?" You ask, glancing at her and scanning her body cautiously. "You got yourself a wound there, shirt's soaking up blood".

The girl looks down at herself and nods guiltily.

"Yeah, I, uh... Had some complications" she ends up saying, quietly, before her face quickly lits up. "Thanks for helping me, though! I appreciate it".

You nod and that's that.

"Do you have somewhere to go?"

She nibbles with her lower lip anxiously.

"Uh, yeah, but... I lost my coms in a fight, so I have no way of contacting my brothers. Can I... Stay with you for a bit til I find them? I'm sure they'll catch up to me in no time".

You glance at her and sigh quietly. You don't really want to get involved, but you have too much of a conscience to leave her to fetch for herself. She's just a kid, and you're a military medic. Well, were.

"Alright. But if you annoy me I'm pushing you out".

The kid grins. She looks even younger with the excitement and relief in her face.

"You remind me of one of my brothers. Grumpy" she adds, good-heartedly.

You huff.

"Not grumpy. Direct. Concise" you correct her. "It's different".

She chuckles quietly.

"Grumpy" she tells you again.

You roll your eyes. You're used to taking care of men; you haven't have much contact with kids before.

"You're not doing a good job of not annoying me, blondie".

She smiles and makes the universal gesture of zipping her mouth shut.

"I'm Omega, by the way" she tells you after a few seconds in silence.

You nod and glance at her again. You should really check that wound when you're back at home. It's bleeding quite a bit, even if you don't think it's deep enough to worry. You're sure you have enough meds at home to take care of it. Omega doesn't seem to be in pain either.

She stares at you while you walk, leading the way to your safe place; still expecting an answer. You glare at her before focusing back on your way home. This is going to end up being either surprisingly good or exasperate you to no end.

You relent.

"Nickname's Blade".

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Turns out Omega is pretty good company; which is quite a relief considering she's more injured than what you had originally thought and his brothers are no where to be seen after three whole days of her invasion of your privacy and home. You make sure to disinfect her wound and stitch it back together; you don't have strong opioids on stock, but she holds on surprisingly well, clenching her teeth and shutting her eyes, breathing through the pain. It makes your perspective of her change; she's not just any kid if she can push herself through that without barely making a noise. She's brave.

You cover the wound in bacta and dress it carefully; and make sure to change them to new ones twice a day. At the third night you inspect the closed wound carefully, the aspect of the skin and wether the stitches are still in good place; it seems to be progressing well. You still force her to bed rest; your new sleeping place your backpack layed on the wooden floor beside her. She feels guilty about it, and it shows; you only aknowledge it with a quiet hum. You're not going to deny you'd like your bed back; but you've slept in much worse conditions before.

I know it's difficult to fall asleep. Just try to tune it out. Think on other things.

On that third night, when you turn the lights out, Omega cautiously asks you about the origin of your nickname. You tell her your story. How you got your degree in Medicine in Coruscant's University; how you mastered in Galactic Bioscience when the war hit it's peak. How you started your first working years as a doctor in a clinic while you constantly heard about the battalions of clones being shipped elsewhere; defending all of you while you stayed with your simple Coruscanti life. How that hadn't set well inside of you; how you struggled with guiltiness and empathy every single day until you took the decision to enlist in the volunteers for the GAR. You tell her that switching to military medic had been a struggle at first; but the gratification was unmessurable. You were really needed there; you really did a change saving all those brave troopers lifes. You grew to respect them and admire those men like you had never admired someone before.

Unfortunately, with being a woman in military service, and a volunteer at that, very few troopers thought it meant you weren't able to defend yourself. To fight. When one cocky, snarky trooper had insinuated that publicly in the middle of the comedor, you had done what you believed was your right and justice by shutting his mouth; snarling back a warning while using your knife to nail down the sleeve of his upper blacks to the dinning table, blade sliding just a few inches away from his skin.

Omega's eyes are wide open while she listens to the anecdote. Yeah, it had made an impact among the clone lines as well.

"Okay, you're giving me Hunter vibes with the knife things now" she giggles in the darkness of your bedroom.

You arch an eyebrow, humming under your breath uncomitedly.

"What, he a soldier too?"

Omega is quick –too quick– to correct you.

"No, no. Mercenaries".

You'd give her the sceptical side eye if you had her in front of you. You let your voice carry your suspicion instead.

"Running around with a kid like you?"

The girl stumbles to answer. It's obvious there's more to the story there, but you believe she is trying to protect her siblings, so you let it be.

"Hey, I can defend myself!" She argues with a small huff, voice turning sheepish right after the outburst, considering your actual situation. "Well, on most ocasions. Life works in unexpected ways sometimes".

You can't help the snort that comes with her words.

"You bet" you answer sarcastically. You sigh tiredly and close your eyes again. "Good night, Omega".

You hear her reacomodating softly against the sheets.

"Night, Blade".

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You've always been a light sleeper. As soon as the alarm rings, you're jumping out of your sleeping bag and rushing to get your armour on –now stripped of all Republic marks– and backpack on your shoulders; already prepared with the basics in case you came across an emergency like this. You take a quick glance at the datapad you have conected to the cams you've got set up on the surroundings of your cabin; cursing under your breath.

"Omega" you call her sharply, shaking her awake without an inch of sympathy. "Get up and ready to go. Don't make me repeat myself".

The girl blinks sleepily, but she reads the urgency in your voice. She understands this is no joke; so she quickly jumps into action too, abandoning the comfort and warmth of the bed and quickly throwing her clothes on too, electrical bow clutched in her hands. She stares at you wide eyed.

"What's going on?" She whispers, nervously.

You ruffle through your closet, jaw clenched and set on the task of preparing yourself for the worst. One blaster gets inmediately strapped at each outer thigh; your belt of knifes looping around your waist. One vibroblade goes into the safe-pocket of your right vambrace; your second one on your left leg. You stuff your bag with a few extra surprises and tie up your hair. It's time to move.

Time is precious. Time is life. Don't be slow. Do it fast, and do it good.

"Stormtroopers" you finally answer her, cinching your backpack firmly on your shoulders, expresion growing firm and serious. "Got this whole area studied in case someone found out about my past and went towards me, but I didn't think it would be this many enemies. I think there's something you haven't told me, but there's no time for that now. Listen carefully, 'cause I'm not gonna' say this twice".

Omega nods, just slightly afraid, and you push a smaller datapad into her hands.

"This is a second safe house I've got prepared not too far away from here, close to the lake" you explain to her, quickly. "Follow the map and go there. There's different routes saved up in case you find one blocked or any other difficulties. Be silent, be quick, and you shouldn't have much problem getting there. Once you're inside, open the closet in the corner of the cabin and in the first drawer you'll see another datapad. It controls some explosives I've got set around that house. If for some reason the stormtroopers get to the safehouse before I do, blow them up, and run away. I'll be able to track your location if you have that datapad on you, it's conected to mine, so I'll find you sooner or later. Got it?"

Omega nods, brow furrowed in concentration. She looks up at you anxiously.

"What will you do? You're not... Coming with me?"

You shake your head.

"I'll buy you time" you answer, firm. "Got a few surprises set out round here as well, and I'm trained. I'll clear this out and follow you to the safe house".

You open the door of the cabin and take a carefull glance out. You make a gesture towards her.

"You should go now. They're still a kilometer away".

Omega stays stuck to the floor. You narrow your eyes at her.

"Go" you snap towards her. Then, your eyes soften. "I will go after you, I promise".

Don't promise things that aren't in your hand to make it happen or not.

But promises give hope.

False hope.

Sometimes false hope is all you need to fight harder.

Omega runs into the forest, and you're quick to close the door and abandon the cabin as well, finding your hiding spot among the trees and keeping an eye at the aproaching stormtroopers through your datapad.

You knew this kid meant trouble. Well, if war is what they want... Your fingers caresses the hilts of your blades. That's what they'll get.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You logically know you're no match for these stormtroopers if you were to pull a direct open attack on them. You use your advantages, though; you're in your territory, one you know well, and they're advancing with blind trust that you'd be no real danger to them. It does wonders for your counter attack, and you silently move through the forest, killing one lonely soldier after the other with just a quick slash of your blade, throats splitting open and last words muffled against the palm of your globed hand in a wet gurgle of confusion and pannick. You gently let each body fall to the ground before you're moving towards the next one, checking their positions on your datapad through the cams you've got almost everywhere; lethal, quick, and quiet.

When they finally discover you –one soldier catching you silently opening the throat of a fellow one, and he shouts out your position in alarm–you've already killed half of them in the silence of the night.

It turns harder after that. They know you're around, they're aware, active; they know you're not an innocent normal civilian any longer. You're danger, real; they're coordinated, and they move fast as well. You hadn't used your blasters before in order to take advantage of the element of surprise; but you need them now, so you dodge and take your shot at them. Two more fall down before two of their own shots hit both your blaster –ripping it from your hand– and your right shoulder. You swallow your scream of pain and whimper quietly, clenching your jaw shut. You push through the pain and retreat back to the cabin in a hurry; it's your best chance.

It's a game of agility and speed. If you get there first, and they close around your home, you'll detonate the explosives hidden in the ground and kill them all. If they catch you before you're able to do that... It's you who'll end up dead.

Adrenaline rushes through your body and you feel like you're flying while you run. A shot scorches the armour plate on your back, and though it makes you stumble, you grin darkly. You've made it, and they're all dead.

You turn around to watch them and press the button on your datapad. All around you, the forest explodes and burns.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Once you make sure there are no survivors around you –you have to shoot a pair of them down who are still struggling to breathe through the scorching pain–, you take a bacta pad from your backpack and cover your wound with it, wrapping a bandage around it to properly secure it before you're walking away from you're no-longer home. You'll tend to it properly afterwards, later; right now you don't feel like it's safe to stay here, where you've caused such a wrath. You need to get to your safe house. You need to find Omega; and you bet these stormtroopers must have reinforcements somewhere.

Fuck, this is all a mess. This is going to put a bullseye on your back and you would probably never be safe in this planet again; you should probably make a jump more sooner than later.

You sigh tiredly and continue making your way through the forest, periodically checking your datapad. You feel relieved to know that at least Omega's signal is permanently stationed there on your second cabin.

You're still checking the cams, so there should not be a way for you to get surprised; but almost upon arriving your safe house, you catch a blur of grey, red, orange and blue moving towards you at high speed with the corner of your eyes. You barely have time to identify what it is before you're being brutally tackled to the ground with a painful grunt. You fight back viciously, cataloging the man's appearance while you swing your vibroblade and try to slash him with it; the soldier quickly grabbing your hand and forcing you to drop the weapon with brutal force, almost twisting your wrist and fingers in his effort. You hiss and roll around, keeping him under you this time. It's not like you're lacking knifes...

You manage to draw one from your belt and push it right to his neck when someone else clears his throat at your back; making you glance back.

Fuck, this one's huge.

"Need some help, sarge?" He almost mocks him, and you're momentarily surprised by the entertainment in his voice, the camaraderie between this two stormtroopers as clear as the water from Naboo lakes.

You quickly pull your second blaster out and try to shoot at him; but he's faster, and he shoots back, hitting the very center of your chest plate. The impact is so close it pushes you off from the first soldier's body; who quickly takes advantage of the momentum to efectivelly pin you under him, no way of escaping them now.

Your mind is divided between trying to cope with the pain on your chest and the pannicking fact that you're trapped, and this is probably your end. Angry, frightened tears fill your eyes.

"Where is she?" the soldier on top of you demands, voice deep and almost raspy.

You narrow your eyes at him.

"Go fuck yourself" you spit in between your panting breaths.

The big one chuckles.

The trooper on top of you rips his helmet off and stares at you; clenching his jaw. You get why he decided to do that; he looks intimidating, with half of his face tattoed in black, almost mimicking a skeleton. He lowers his face and you can't help but grow tense.

"You did a good job with those stormtroopers, but I don't have any patience left, mercenary. Where. Is she".

He presses you against the floor with his hands on your shoulder, and you whimper involuntarily when he pushes against your covered wound.

The fact that he has refered to the stormtroopers with "those" slowly registers your mind. He talks about them as if they weren't ones themselves. You quickly scan them with your eyes. They're definitely not clones, no –at least not the normal ones–, and they are soldiers. Perhaps they belong to some other organization? But what could they want Omega for?

"Not a mercenary, just a normal civ here" you push through the pain and actually grin at him, defiantly, almost whispering against his lips. "And like I said; go fuck yourself".

His right hand turns into a fist and retreats, prepared to hit you, when a pannicked voice echoes in the silence of the forest, running towards you.

"Hunter! W-wait!"

The soldier's head snap towards the girl and his eyes fill with confusion, relief, and worry.

"Step back, Omega. Stay away" he orders, with a familiarity that suddenly makes everything gain sense.

The facts falls into place. This is Hunter, the brother Omega mentioned before; the one with the vibroblade. Your eyes fly to the spot for it in his own vambrace. Oh, you're all so stupid. You've almost killed each other looking for the same thing; to protect the kid.

"She's not your enemy!" Omega insists, panting while she finally reaches you lot, the big guy holding her back with a carefully heavy hand on her shoulder, a confused expresion in his scared face. "This is Blade. She was a GAR medic. She's being helping me since I got separated from you, protected me from some bad guys and even stitched my wound up and everything. Please, Hunter. I'm okay".

The man's eyes scan her up and down; first focusing on her covered stomach, searching for the wound, before continuing with the rest of her. Once he confirms she's okay, he locks eyes with Omega; both of them staring at each other for a few seconds before Hunter sighs and turns his face back towards you. You breathe and try to calm your speeding heart.

"Where exactly did you serve?" He asks, voice firm but more gentle now.

He still holds you tightly under him. As much as he wants to believe those words, he needs to check the information out.

You answer him patiently.

"327th Star Corps, under Bly and General Secura".

Hunter repeats the information over his coms without taking his eyes from you. A flicker of surprise crosses his serious expression; perhaps noticing you didn't name the Comander by his rank, but his name.

Okay, Blades. You can consider us friends now.

Your heart clenches. You glance away.

"The information appears to be correct, Hunter" a self-assured voice picks up in between the static. "There's plenty of data of a doctor going by the nickname Blade on the old GAR registers. Including the incident that prompted such name, amongst dozens of post-mission reports and recomendations. She's being searched by the Empire as well".

The coms grow silent again, and Hunter inmediately relaxes his hold on you, trusting his –other brother, you guess?– entirely.

"Forgive me" he tells you, standing up and offering you his own hand, a guilty and almost sheepish expresion on his face now. "I thought..."

"I was a mercenary that killed all those stormtroopers just to collect a price, yeah, I know" you cut him off, slowly standing up as well and wincing at the pain.

Now that the adrenaline is dropping, you feel exhausted and nautious.

"Not that she isn't a cute kid and that, but what's so special about her?" You can't help but ask.

They all tense, and you sigh in understanding.

"Family keeps family safe, okay" you accept.

Hunter's eyes flicker down towards your scorched chest plate and your bandaged shoulder. Blood is staining the bandage now, after the pressure he put on your wound seconds ago. He frowns.

"You hurt?"

You nod quietly.

"Believe it or not, trying to get rid of a whole squad of stormtroopers on your own is not that easy" you find enough energy to joke.

A tiny smirk tugs on his lips.

"Oh, I know. I'm impressed, though".

The booming voice of his other brother almost startles you into a jump.

"Yeah, we all are!"

You smile and shrug.

Hunter glances around.

"We should get out of here. We got our ship docked close. Want us to take you somewhere?" He offers.

"Any other planet would be nice" you answer, and he nods.

"Sorry for all the trouble. And thank you" he finally says, and you sigh with a small tired smile.

"Alright".

With nothing more to say, Hunter leads the way back to their ship, Omega walking besides him and Wrecker closing the line. You can't help but analise the man's interactions with the girl. It's sweet, really, the fatherly way he looks at her. It's hot too.

Oh well. You can't help but think that either. He looks good fighting, and you always had a bit of a competency kink.

THE END.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Fiuuuuuuu!!!! This one took me really long to write bc I'm DYING with my exams and I have 0,0000001% energy (and time) spare to write. I'm actually finishing this off rn after reading my last unit for the day, i'm exhausted send help.

Anyhow, I think this little story developed okay, so I hope you like it! In case any of you hadn't guess it yet or still had doubts, the cursive stands for thoughts and memories of female reader back in battle with the GAR and her men. It's always so fun to write badass characters!

We've got JUST ONE MORE REQUEST to write (a super fluffy hunter one with dancer!femalereader) to oficially finish the second part of my requests list (will open a third one in the future don't fret). That would be 20 requests already look at that!

Also, I just need 7 more followers to make it to a hundred, and I've been thinking on doing something special for it. Suggestions?

Stay tunned for the next one and take care!

Xx,

Sky.

Back to general masterlist here:

[freesia-writes]

Ch 34: Attack

Master List ~~ Previous Chapter ~~ WC: 3.4k Fanart by @autistic-artistech!!

Hunter slipped silently through the door of Lyra’s cottage, knife in one hand to brace his blaster in the other as he scanned the hallway, sharp eyes moving constantly. He stepped slowly, avoiding the creaky spots of the wooden floor that he didn’t realize he’d memorized. As he peeked around the corner to the main room, he froze, dumbstruck.

Lyra was tied to a chair in the middle of her own living room, tears on her cheeks illuminated by the glow of her fireplace, and Luciana loomed above her with a menacing glare. 

“Where is it?” she hissed, fist clenched at her side. As she turned, a rush of adrenaline pumped through Hunter’s veins as he spotted a blaster in her other hand. 

“I told you I don’t have it,” Lyra whimpered.

“First you said the evidence was in the safe. Then there was no safe. Now you’re saying someone else has it. You think I don’t know who? You’re stalling, and I’m sick of it!”

Lyra remained silent, eyes tightly shut in hopeless despair.

“Hunter’s not coming to save you,” Luciana taunted with smug satisfaction. Her beautiful features were contorted into rage, her typically bright smile twisted in a sinister grin. “He’s going to be busy for quite a while. You’re going to talk one way or the other, so stop wasting time. If you don’t have the evidence, where is your daughter?”

Pain and fear emanated from Lyra’s helpless form.

“Where is your daughter?” Luciana demanded. “I know you went to find her on Keytoll. Then you two both ‘died’, or so you led them to believe, until you showed up here. So where is she?”

A minute shake of the head was the only response. 

Luciana slapped her across the face. 

“Where’s Breslin?!” she screamed, poking the blaster closer. Lyra slowly raised her head, finally meeting Luciana’s blazing eyes with her own, and took a shuddering breath. A sudden stillness settled over her, and her voice was low as she spoke with clarity and conviction.

“I’ll never tell you.”

“Agh!” Luciana yelled in frustration, lowering the blaster to her side and clawing at the ropes to free Lyra from the chair before yanking her to her feet with a sharp tug on her bicep. “Get up! You’re going to take me to her or I’m going to start shooting you to pieces little by little!” She pushed her forward sharply toward the hallway where Hunter was watching, tense and ready. As he leaned out slightly, hoping to de-escalate the situation, both women spotten him with a gasp. 

“Oh, babe, you’re supposed to be enjoying your massage,” Luciana taunted, her voice now sickly sweet. 

“Give me the blaster,” he said, his own fixed on her above his knife. 

“Afraid I can’t do that, sweetheart.” She let out a disconcertingly sinister giggle, then jerked Lyra back toward her, looping an arm around her shoulders to brace her against her chest. She lifted the blaster to Lyra’s temple, pressing it into the skin beside her tightly-clenched eyes. “Your pathetic girlfriend here has something for me.”

“We don’t need to do it this way,” Hunter said smoothly. He was the perfect voice of reason, completely unfazed with effortless stability, but his sharp eyes were on her like a hawk. “Let her go and we’ll sort it out.”

“You know I don’t like being told what to do,” Luciana taunted, squeezing Lyra more tightly and shoving her a step forward. “Now get out of the way or I’ll make you.”

“Hey,” Hunter said softly, not looking away from Luciana. The warmth in his tone coaxed Lyra to open her eyes, finding his stoic face immediately. “I know you can make me. You threw me over your shoulder at the farmer’s market,” he said quietly, eyes darting for a split second to Lyra before returning to the threat. “When we were promoting the self defense workshop where we taught how to get out of holds.”

He saw Lyra tense, and he could have staggered beneath the sheer wave of panic that radiated from her. He could feel it all – her hesitation, her terror, her disbelief, and the single flicker of hope that signaled her intent. Slowly nodding his head, he began calculating his shot. 

“Cute. Too bad this sorry bag of bones didn’t–”

Lyra released her knees and dropped her full weight without warning. Luciana’s arm smacked her chin as she fell, but she was on the floor in an instant. Hunter moved immediately.

A blue flash of light. 

Luciana dropped. 

Lyra gasped. 

A second passed.

Hunter emerged from the hallway, sheathing his knife and holstering the blaster. He took Luciana’s from where it had landed beside her motionless form and set it on the table behind him as he quickly kneeled in front of Lyra, whose body wracked with involuntary trembles. 

“You alright?” he asked. A ridiculous question.

“No.”

A flicker of a smile touched his face. “I mean, are you hurt anywhere? Did she do anything else to you?”

“No,” came the small reply. She rubbed her arms where they’d been tied, then clasped her hands together in front of her, pressing her lips to them as she tried and failed to regain her composure, unable to meet his eyes.

He waited for a moment, awkwardly hovering on his knees, and reached out a tentative hand to touch her arm. Lyra finally looked at him, innumerable emotions flying across her face, and her clumsy rush to collapse into his arms knocked him onto his butt, legs splayed to keep his balance. He shifted his back against the wall, slowly opening his arms around her as she tucked herself into a pathetic little ball and she dissolved into tears against him.

He rested his face against the top of her head and remained silent, mind racing and body buzzing. Her familiar floral scent slipped into his awareness, its subtle sweetness a stark contrast to the sorrow and fear and alarm radiating from her. He took a deep breath, silently inviting her to do the same as he emanated security and calm, and he felt the slightest bit of tension subside.

They sat that way for a while, Lyra doing her best to reign in the sobs that wracked her body, yet Hunter could sense the outpouring of grief that seemed not only about Luciana’s attack, but about everything. He acknowledged the ache in his own chest as he felt her cold body nestled against him, and tendrils of warmth and yearning drifting up from deep in his core. He hugged her closer, turning to rest his lips against her hair, and closed his eyes. 

He would be there as long as she needed. 

.

Artwork by @autistic-artistech -- go love on it HERE! And shout out to @noblelightfighter for mentioning the self-defense move of dropping to the ground coming in handy later (because I changed this scene and added it based on that genius comment, LOL).

.

Minutes ticked by, punctuated only by the occasional shudder or sniff from Lyra where she’d nestled into his front. Eventually, she settled enough to push away and sit up, wiping her eyes and refusing to meet his gaze.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, picking herself up and offering him a hand, which he took and nimbly climbed to his feet. She slowly returned the chair to its place at the dining table, then stood still, arms hanging at her sides as she stared blankly at the floor.

“You’re okay,” he said softly, approaching with hands slightly out to his sides. “Want to sit?“ He beckoned toward the couch. She nodded and set herself in the middle of it, still in a daze. He was inexplicably drawn to her, feelings of compassion and protectiveness swelling in his chest, and sat tentatively beside her as she leaned forward to bury her face in her hands.

“What a mess,” she lamented. “I am so sorry to have dragged you into all of it.“

“Yeah…” he said, anxious at how his own potentially ill-timed attempt at humor would be received. “You should have warned me.”

A laugh burst out of her at the ridiculousness of it all, forcing its way past the heavy layers of shock and surprising her as it came out. She looked up at him, the lines in her face seeming to deepen, and he stretched an arm across the back of the couch behind her as a gentle invitation. A moment of hesitation held her back, as though she were deciding if she were worthy of his sympathy or not, but eventually she nestled against his side with a visible release of tension.

“I’ve missed you so much,” she admitted, turning her face away in shame. “I wish I’d done things differently. I really screwed everything up.”

“We both did.”

The fact rested heavily between them, weaving together common threads of trust and preservation that they’d relied upon their entire lives. Hunter sighed. 

“There’s a bounty hunter on my floor,” Lyra noted, staring at Luciana’s unconscious form. Hunter followed her glance, shaking his head in disbelief. How had he been fooled so completely? The entire thing felt like an odd sort of nightmare, and in the vulnerability of the current moment, adrenaline having flooded both of them entirely, he was floored by the depth of his desire to “return to normal”. But what was normal? As he pulled Lyra a little closer, feeling her heart beating against his ribcage, a sense of longing steadily grew stronger as all the ill-fitted stresses of the last few months began to fade.

“She’s a bounty hunter?” he said, returning to the issue at hand.

“Apparently. She snuck into my house and wrestled me into the chair, demanding that damn evidence I had from so long ago. I panicked… I didn’t know what to do. I tried to stall her but she was getting crazy… Then I remembered that little button you gave me, for Omega originally… So I told her it was the release for a safe, and she pressed it, but when she started looking for the safe, she knew I had lied.”

“She was hired to get that old stuff from you?”

“Yeah. She tracked me here… years ago! It was terrifying that she was here all along, but apparently she was waiting for me to lead her to Breslin, because the bounty for both of us was much larger.”

“So she tracked you to Keytoll and tried to have you captured there…” he began to put the pieces together.

“Yes,” she sighed, reaching an arm around the front of his waist as though she needed all the comfort he was willing to offer. “Sorry, is this too much?” She suddenly realized her actions and sat up in a moment of alarm. 

“No,” said Hunter quietly, and grateful relief emanated from her as she resumed her position, prompting a wave of fondness within him as well. “That explains why she was so affected when she saw you here again, if she thought you two were dead…”

“Mmhmm,” she said sadly. “She reported it back to that nasty politician’s office to try to get her reward again, but apparently their patience was gone. She had to deliver or “she’d be next” or something. So the pressure was on, but she was desperate to get Breslin too.”

“She told you all this?”

“She was ranting like a crazy person when she first tied me up,” Lyra shuddered. “Angry at having to wait so long, scared of their threats, obsessed with getting what she  was ‘owed’… Ugh.” She trembled, still thoroughly shaken, and Hunter rubbed a soothing hand up and down her back.

“I suppose I was just a way to get information about you,” he muttered, but she picked herself up a bit and shook her head. 

“She could have done that easily, I would think. You were just a treat along the way.” A pathetic breathy chuckle was the best she could do, and he resisted the urge to groan aloud. 

“According to the ladies in your office, I’m more of a ‘snack’, whatever that means.”

“Food metaphors are usually positive.”

“As they should be.”

He was struck by the effortless way they settled into one another, although what would have been playful banter still felt hollow and fake, as though they were trying to recover some semblance of normalcy after a giant plot twist that definitely no one saw coming. At the same time, he didn’t want it to be fake. He found himself pining for the quiet connection, the leisurely enjoyment of the simple things in life. A ribbon of fear laced itself around his heart as he wondered if it was something they ever could have again, and the thought moved him to speak after a long silence.

“I’m a clone,” he blurted out, the fortifications around his own secrets beginning to crumble as he considered how she had truly bared her soul over and over now. Lyra opened her mouth to speak, then closed it, waiting patiently. “I was created in a lab during the war. Genetically modified and enhanced. Part of Clone Force 99. My brothers are clones too.”

“But you’re all so different,” she said.

“We were engineered with various specialties,” he explained, feeling an increasing lightness as he opened up. “We were sent on missions throughout the war, and after Order 66, we had to fend for ourselves… Find a new way to live in a changing galaxy.”

He continued on, pouring out his past as a peace offering between them. He shared about Omega. About Tech. About Crosshair. About Tantiss. All of it. By the time he finished, he was choking back his own tears at the sheer weight of all that they’d been through, and he clenched his jaw, swallowing hard.

Lyra rested against him in silence, having given him little squeezes of support at poignant moments in his story. When he stopped and remained quiet, she sat up slowly, observing his sharp features conflicted with a myriad of emotions. The depth of the concern and empathy on her face tugged at his heartstrings, and when she tentatively lifted a shaky hand to graze his cheek with the backs of her fingers, he let his eyes close for a second. She pulled away, sitting back to rub her face before dropping her hands with an exhausted stare at the flickering flames in the hearth.

“So what do we do now?” Her question hung heavily between them, as though they stood at an intersection of paths.

“Good question.”

She sighed. It was late, the glow from the planet’s moons barely penetrating the thick cloud cover, and Lyra glanced helplessly around the room as though it would give her the answer.

“What about her?” she finally asked, fear touching her face as she looked at Luciana. 

Hunter shifted slightly to free his blaster from its holster, flicking a switch on the side and raising it at the motionless pile on the ground. 

“Wait! Hunter! No!” Lyra yelled in utter panic. 

“It’s set to stun,” he reassured her, showing her the gun as though she were familiar with its components. “It’ll keep her out til morning at least.” 

With a cringe of trepidation from Lyra, he pointed it back at Luciana, flashing a few rays of the bright blue light over her body. 

“So now I’m supposed to sleep, after all that, with her in my house?” 

“She’s not waking up anytime soon,” he confirmed.

“Yeah… But still.” She twisted her hands anxiously. “I mean, I don’t think I can sleep anyway. But I also feel like I could collapse right here.”

“Mmm,” Hunter nodded. “Pretty normal response to shock.” 

Lyra stared at Luciana, gaze growing distant as she tried to have any coherent thought but just felt completely drained. She shifted in her seat, casting a sideways glance at Hunter’s knees, then slowly lifted her eyes to his face. 

“Will… Will you stay?” she asked, voice small and vulnerable. Again his chest filled with protectiveness. He hadn’t realized quite how emasculated he’d felt for the last few months, and it was deeply affirming to be reminded of his own strength and capability. “I’m sorry,” she continued. “I don’t want to be a burden. I could help you carry her to the local jail instead…” She was grasping for options, and he resisted the urge to chuckle at the mental image. 

“I could carry her myself,” he reminded her, the shadow of a smile on his lips. “But I’ll sleep here on the couch and keep an eye on her.”

“I feel bad asking anything of you,” Lyra admitted, shrinking beneath her own self-hate for all that had transpired. “I don’t deserve it, Hunter. You should be free to live your life without all this… chaos. You’ve had more than your share, and I only make it worse.”

He waited for a moment, tendrils of pity swirling around the deep affection he felt, and then responded as soothingly as he was able. His words carried more weight than he’d anticipated as he spoke them aloud.

“I’ll stay.”

She nodded, eyes glistening.

Lyra decided to try to sleep, murmuring her sheepish thanks again and bringing a little smirk to Hunter’s face as he heard the lock on her bedroom door click once she was inside. She came right back out though, moving quickly as though embarrassed at her own forgetfulness, and offered him the softest, fluffiest blanket she owned before retreating to her room again.

Hunter laid down on the couch, pulling the cover around himself until it felt as though he were wrapped in a warm hug. Everything about this place was cozy to him. But he furrowed his brow at Luciana, his mind gearing up to strategize about every possible way to deal with that whole situation. He was surprised at how little he actually felt as he reflected on their time together, especially in comparison to the profound sense of emptiness and hurt that had burdened him since Keytoll. Granted, he’d had a lot more time to put down roots with Lyra… 

None of it mattered now, though. Part of him felt insulted while other parts felt relieved, and beneath it all there was a chasm cracking open as he ruminated on the fact that he’d been so thoroughly fooled. The exhaustion was beginning to settle deep in his bones, and he tucked his head against the armrest, angling it toward Luciana’s motionless body. He forced his eyes closed, other senses working overtime in hypervigilant rebellion against the sleep he so desperately craved. It would likely be a long night.

* * * 

The first light of dawn was peeking through the windows when Hunter woke with a start, a wave of apprehension sending goosebumps across his skin. His eyes flew to where Luciana had been laying, relieved to see that nothing had changed. And yet something was different. Tuning in to everything he could sense, his pulse echoed in his ears as he waited. Something was about to happen. 

The beams of light through Lyra’s gauzy curtains were brightening at too fast a rate for a typical sunrise, and he noticed wispy tendrils dancing through them. An odd sensation gripped him, the same sort he’d experienced beneath the waterfall, and the light developed that same bluish-green hue as it streamed toward Luciana. He sat up, reaching for his weapons as he watched like a hawk. Her body was bathed in the blue light, the delicate curls fluttering across before reaching her head, where they came together and swirled around before disappearing into her body, and he saw her sides rise and fall in a deep breath. 

His hand tensed on the blaster hidden at his side.

Luciana stirred, rolling onto her stomach and pushing herself up to a seated position. Rubbing her eyes, she looked blearily around the room with a quiet groan as she stretched stiff muscles from being crumpled in the same position for so long. When her eyes landed on Hunter, a sheepish smile curved her rosy cheeks. 

“Well hi,” she said in the cutesy voice she used to endear herself to people. 

Hunter nodded, watching her every move. 

“I guess that was quite a night,” she giggled, running her fingers through her red curls to smooth them into place. “I probably should have led with this, or maybe I did, but I’m Luci.”

.

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[staycalmandhugaclone]

Fool's Errand Pt 1

Part (1) of Fool's Errand, the next arc of Doc's Misadventures! If you're new, start at the beginning with Touch Starved!

Warnings: Back to some good, ol' whump here. Minor ptsd, blood, broken nose, needles, profanity

WC: 3,183

“Damn it, get down!!”

“I am! Any lower and I'll need a kriffing shovel!” I snapped back, tempted to mute him just to hear myself think.

“I’ve got eyes on her, Cross; just focus on finding us a way in!” Even Echo's voice held the faintest rush of unease.

We'd known this wouldn't be easy. They'd caught someone – some big-name politician I hadn't made much effort to remember, but the Republic deemed them important enough to send us behind enemy lines to get them back.

The Marauder lay hidden nearly a dozen klicks away, nestled amidst brambles and fallen logs until even I struggled to notice it. We’d stolen a pair of Separatist transports to approach the black ops site without raising much suspicion and split up to search the compound faster. Tech and Wrecker infiltrated the northern side, Echo and I came in from the south, and Hunter was on his own along the crumbling remains of the eastern wall with Crosshair posted in the nearby tree line. He’d violently opposed my going in, but we had no means of knowing what kind of state our target would be in when we found them.

The politician was the least of my concerns, though. I’d been on edge since entering those transports. The ping of the metal walkways against our boots, the hum of the engine, even the color of the walls… it was just too similar. But were weren't on Agamar, and I hated how softly the others were stepping around me. I hated even more the undeniable knowledge that I needed them to.

That tension hadn’t lessened as we reached the Separatist black site. It looked abandoned; scarce buildings in such a perfect state of intentional disarray as to almost promise nothing but ancient debris and decades of dust lay within, but Tech's scans confirmed massive power fluctuations underground. It wasn't a huge compound, but it didn't need to be. Barely a half dozen structures remained standing, skeletal framework partially hidden by an overgrowth we now used to our own advantage as we crawled through the dense brush, thorns somehow numerous enough and sharp enough to occasionally find purchase in the slim crescents of skin left unprotected between sections of armor.

Echo and I had just finished sweeping through the second building in search of an entrance to the lower level when the site’s defenses suddenly roared to life. Numerous turrets burst from the soil that, mere seconds prior has shown no trace of anything beyond untouched wilds, and we’d just managed to hide behind a partially caved-in room before being noticed.

I could hear dozens of gears whirring to life just beyond our dilapidated shelter, the harsh crunch of leaves and branches breaking beneath heavy, metallic feet. Droids were flooding the site. We were pinned down by the turrets. And Hunter wasn’t answering his com.

“Can we make it to the next structure?” Echo asked, voice forced into a whisper.

“Not yet.” There was a long moment of silence, and I could feel myself tensing more with each passing second, legs coiled beneath me. “Now!” We were moving before the hushed order fell silent, both crouched so low that we were practically crawling, one hand occasionally darting to the ground in a gate more natural to some forest dwelling beast, but our awkward appearance didn't matter. The half dozen droids mere meters to our right posed little threat in and of themselves, but revealing our presence now might cause untold numbers to swarm. If they had Hunter, our only hope to free him was to keep ourselves hidden.

My legs burned from the effort of keeping up with Echo. He moved as though he’d been born for such things, body stalking preternaturally through tall grass and biting bramble effortlessly, but I still found myself watching him, worried I'd note some hint of a falter in his stride, but whatever strain the motion surely wrought upon his residual limbs was a torture to which he was far too accustomed to show amidst the threat lingering over us.

“Down!” We dropped harshly to the ground, and my every instinct balked at the helpless position. Mere seconds passed before the almost musical chorus of shifting counterweights and metallic limbs raced through the foliage just feet ahead of us. Droidekas. The nervous tension dancing beneath my skin turned to dread in an instant, ice bursting through my chest in a rush of panic. I didn't want to notice the way Echo glanced back toward me, the depth of concern that tiny movement conveyed. The droid presence was no longer a simple annoyance. We were in danger.

Was Crosshair switching between com channels to warn Tech and Wrecker lest their chatter create a lethal distraction? Were they balancing the risk of striking first versus continuing what felt like a doomed plight to remain unnoticed? My lungs ached from the effort of controlling each breath, body eager to fall into the too tempting frenzy of fear.

Echo’s hand flared out, signaling me to move around his left flank before readying his pistol, attention trained toward the sound of machinery falling into formation. I knew at least fifteen meters still lay between us and the next building; knew that he was purposefully placing himself between me and the enemy units; that, even among this squad of elites, Echo was the most capable soldier I could hope to have guarding my back, but, still, I had to grind my teeth against useless objections, abhorred at the very thought of letting him act either as distraction or delay if we were seen.

That fear surged anew at every shuffle of leaves and snap of twigs as I crawled forward, stealing one final glance just as I passed him. He couldn’t see the plea in my eyes, the order begging to scream from lips carefully trapped between ground teeth that he not put himself in danger, but he didn’t have to. With the smallest movement, he looked toward me in kind and offered the faintest nod, and that tiny gesture was enough to push me on.

He waited until several feet separated us before he started after me, and something about that, about knowing he was following just behind me granted me a confidence I had no right feeling, determination numbing me to the burn in my arms as I hauled myself through an undergrowth that showed no sign of the wear it ought to have from the abuse of concealing a Separatist base.

When the ridge of a tattered roof finally jutted above the line of greenery, I couldn’t restrain the deep sigh of relief, but I had to remind myself that any façade of safety feigned by the crumbling walls granted only a fool’s comfort and forced myself to pause just shy of the entrance. Echo didn’t stop until he was nearly flush against my side, and we both waited with bated breath.

“Tech and Wrecker found an entrance. If you don’t find one in there, stay hidden until they report back.” Crosshair’s voice fell into a carefully detached hum. I wanted to respond, to offer some reassurance, but we couldn’t risk even that, so I merely watched in silence as Echo took point once more, waiting for his signal before following him into the derelict structure.

Once, it stood a couple stories high, brick walls more akin to a school than a prison, but there was no sign of such possibilities within any longer. Nature had reclaimed the half-dozen rooms and interconnecting hallways long ago. Ferns draped through shattered windows, and mounds of dirt collected in the corners reached halfway to the ceilings. There was no broken furniture nor remnants of belongings hidden amidst the rubble, and I found myself wondering if it had ever been anything more than this. Had the Separatists built it solely to be abandoned; its fate preordained to ruin from the start purely to act as camouflage for what horrors lay below? I wanted to hate them for it but knew it was fueled by naivety; knew that far more had been wasted for less in this war on both sides and that even more would be lost before there would be any hope of armistice.

Only after Echo stood did I move to regain my footing as well, body still hunched forward in that instinctive drive to hide as we searched each room in turn. When he paused in what must have been the central chamber, attention trained in the corner just to the right of the doorway, I stepped back toward the hall, carefully watching for any signs of encroaching danger, my own pistols at the ready.

“We’re heading in.” Echo stated seconds before the hiss of an airlock screamed through the tense silence.

“Copy.” Crosshair replied shortly. He hated this. I knew he hated this: being forced to wait behind as we tread beyond his sight, beyond his reach should something go wrong, and my heart ached knowing there was no comfort I could offer as I turned to follow his brother down the narrow porthole into what was surely a maze of identical passages designed to be inescapable.

No veneer of color was granted to bare metal walls and exposed purlins overhead, and what few lights flickered within granted only fleeting glimpses of the lifeless passageways. This place was not created for comfort. Every detail was made through cruel intent to rob those trapped here of even the thought of warmth, and I couldn’t force the memory of that filth-stained cell from my mind; the scent of stale moisture and blood and rot.

My stride must have faltered; my pace slowed or breath hitched. Something drew Echo’s attention back to me, and shame sank into my gut like something rancid and squirming, and I couldn’t find the strength to push it back in time to dismiss it entirely.

“You alright?” He whispered it, body leaning carefully over mine as though he could hide me from the nightmare surrounding us, and I hated the fact that I couldn’t bring myself to answer him directly.

“Let’s just get Hunter and the damn politician, and get out of here.” I nearly growled. He hesitated a moment longer, and I wanted to yell; to shout that there wasn’t time for this, to berate myself for causing even this short delay, shoulders pulling back with a determination fueled by the rage I felt toward myself for my weakness. He drew a slow breath before wrenching his focus back toward the long hallway, and a shaky sigh of relief escaped me.

I wouldn’t have noticed the port had Echo not stopped suddenly beside it, needing only to shoot a quick look for me to take watch as he plugged himself in. There was no cover here, nowhere we could hide if a patrol came upon us, and each second we lingered stoked the anxious certainty that we were moments from being found, but I didn’t waver, attention shifting between the direction we’d come from and the path ahead.

“Tech, Wrecker; looks like the target’s in the far west corner. Are you guys near there?”

“We are.” Tech responded quickly. “Have you located Hunter?”

“No, but we’ll head east and see what we can find.” My heart dropped at Echo’s response, and I fought to convince myself that that didn’t mean they didn’t have him; that didn’t mean he was…

Echo disconnected from the port, and I forced myself back to attention. He didn’t say anything more before continuing forward at a quick trot, weapon held loosely before him. Our footsteps boomed around us, mocking our every attempt at quiet. We slowed at every intersection, carefully searching down each hall before crossing. It was a perfect grid, an even number of paces separating each corner for what felt like eternity.

I heard it first. It was wet. An occasional crunch of metal against meat. I knew that sound. I knew the heat of abused flesh swelling beneath the assault; knew they would kill him long before he talked.

My hand was reaching for him before consciously acknowledging the movement; a quick tap on Echo’s shoulder singling him to stop. He needed only to pause before he heard it, too, and I watched his body tense as he reached the same conclusion I had, breath quickening beneath a flare of rage and dread. Without a word, we took off toward the wretched sound. There was a rhythm to it. Two strikes and a pause. Two strikes. Pause. I couldn’t hear what they asked in those fleeting seconds between, but my mind wouldn’t let it remain quiet long enough to wonder.

Who ordered the hit?

I swallowed back the bile that tasted too akin to rancid water.

We barely slowed at crossings now, nearly sprinting through the underground base.

Who placed the bombs?

Two strikes. I could hear him cough in the brief silence that followed, heard the splatter of liquid against metal and knew it was blood.

Echo looked over his shoulder to catch my gaze, to make sure I was ready, before tearing through the door. An alarm blared. The lights flashed a deep red that paled beneath the blue of our blaster fire filling the small cell. His armor was gone, blacks torn where they’d snagged on metal fists. I didn’t count them, nor did I need my overlay’s targeting system as Echo and I stormed the room, both strafing the enemy units in a frenzied rush.

I vaguely noticed the lethal elegance of the man beside me as he dove between a pair of B2s, rolling to his feet behind them, pistol already raised and firing before he’d come to a stop. I ducked to the side just as another droid raised its arm, the wall behind me hissing as metal melted beneath the powerful, crimson shots. It didn’t get the chance to fire again, and I watched with eager satisfaction as the towering machine fell heavily to the floor.

It took mere seconds. I didn’t have time to find a new target before Echo felled the few remaining enemies, sparing only a fleeting thought toward a figure among the metal corpses that was far too soft to belong among the droids, nor did I pause to wonder if it had been my shot or Echo’s that claimed their life. Whoever they were, I was too happy to leave them to rot among the destruction they sowed, attention training instead on Hunter.

Already, Echo was working to sever the bounds securing his wrists to the metal slab behind him, and I rushed forward to catch him as his first arm fell free, wincing at the stifled groan my touch drew from him.

“T… took yuh… long ‘nough.” He slurred, jaw barely moving around the strained words.

“Not our fault you let yourself get caught at a kriffing black site.” Echo retorted, already working on his other wrist.

“S… st’nned m…” His reply broke into an agonizing flurry of coughs, thick drops of crimson smearing across my chest plate.

“Alright, enough – you can make all the excuses you want after I patch you up,” I interrupted, a gentle warning in my hushed voice, “For now, just try to slow your breathing and stay awake, alright?” His head shifted toward me in silent consent, and my worry spiked. He was barely recognizable from the sickeningly wrong angle of his nose, and already his eyes were nearly swollen shut. His ribs were far worse off, however. I could see the heavy bruising through tears in his shirt, could hear the rattle in his every hitched, shallow breath.

“I presume the alarm indicates that you’ve found Hunter?” Tech asked just as the other shackle clicked open. Hunter fell against me with a choked grunt, and I tried not to imagine the pain shooting through his torso.

“Easy; just sit back.” I murmured softly, carefully guiding him to the ground.

“Yeah. He’s hurt, but Doc’s with him.” Echo responded, already treading back toward the door to watch for incoming troops. He paused briefly at the figure lying amongst the droids, but I didn’t see what he did, attention devoted to helping the wheezing man before me.

“Hunter, I want you to focus on me for a bit, okay?” My voice left in a whisper void of the urgency with which I dug through my bag. He hummed some manner of a reply, but I couldn’t make out anything akin to actual speech.

“We located the prisoner, but… it seems we were only given a portion of the information regarding this mission.” I had to stifle a surge of frustration that I could hear mirrored in Tech’s clipped statement as my scanner buzzed to life.

“Great.” Echo groaned.

“We’ll rendezvous at the Marauder and discuss how to proceed. Crosshair, is-” He was interrupted by a violent shockwave tearing through the base.

“That… wasn’t me.” Wrecker said hesitantly after a moment of tense silence.

“All clear.” I nearly scoffed at the haughty pride in Crosshair’s voice before returning my attention to the scan results, stomach twisting as I read over his injuries.

“Looks like you’re gonna live, Sarg.” I managed to tease softly despite my own dread, earning a groan heavy with mock disappointment. “You’re going to be pissing blood for a week, though.” He let out an even less thrilled grunt that drew a quiet chuckle from me. “How about I get some pain killers in you, and you let me help you back to the ship?” His eyelids shifted but weren’t able to fully open. Still, he offered no objection when I laid an autoinjector against his neck, and my worry grew at how quickly his body went limp.

“How is he?” Echo asked, voice tense as he walked back toward us. My gaze caught on a sack thrown over his shoulder. “His armor.” He explained, much to my relief. They hadn’t had him long, so it shouldn’t have surprised me that they wouldn’t have had time to dispose of it, but it was still a stroke of luck that he was able to find it so easily.

“He’ll be alright… but we should hurry.” Even through our opaque visors, I knew he felt the intensity with which I held his gaze, that he understood the truth behind my carefully even reply. He gave a small nod and dropped to a knee at Hunter’s other side.

“Hey, brother, think you can hold on to me?” My lips pulled into a small smile at the gentleness of Echo’s deep voice, the care in his movements as he eased Hunter’s arm over his shoulders. I threw my bag back on and followed suit with his other arm.

“Mmm… m’alri’.” His dismissal faded into a barely audible mumble as we pulled him upright, head slumping toward his chest.

“Those drugs won’t last long.” I warned quietly. Again, Echo responded with a short nod, and, together, we began the lock trek back toward an exit I doubted I’d ever find without him.

Next Chapter

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OC Sundays: Cerra Kilian GAR Datafile

Please click for better resolution bc Tumblr is Tumblr.

I've been waiting to share this until I had all posted all the chapters of Stars Beyond Number that could possibly be spoiled, but I'm finally ready to share Cerra's official GAR personnel file!

Transcript below the cut:

GRAND ARMY OF THE REPUBLIC

Personnel Datafile

Name: Kilian, Cerra Rank: Lieutenant, first class Identifying number: SO-3283627 Duty assignment: Supply officer, Ro-Ti-Mundi, Open Circle Fleet Status: AWOL

Service Record

Prior service: Corellian military defense force - 10 years [converted] Commendations: Senate medal of valor Qualifications: Close combat - armed; Close combat - unarmed; Marksmanship Medical record: Shrapnel - lateral and anterior thigh; Post-traumatic stress; Panic disorder Remarks: C.M.D.F. position converted following establishment of G.A.R. Assigned to 501st legion - V.C.S.D. Resolute. Awarded Senate medal of valor in recognition of heroic actions at Battle of Sullust. Transferred to V.C.S.D. Ro-Ti-Mundi following battle of Sullust. Reported absent without leave following battle of Coruscant. Current whereabouts unknown.

---

I used this picrew to make Cerra's ID holo. I didn't crop out the watermark, BTW; one of the transparent backgrounds they provide is watermark-free.

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