#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 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!

[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:

[staycalmandhugaclone]

Fool's Errand Pt 9

Part (9) of Fool's Errand, the next arc of Doc's Misadventures! If you're new, start at the beginning with Touch Starved!

Warnings: Tension. Some big emotions. Mild cursing. Also some legit fluff

WC: 3,257

It’s easy to believe that children are resilient, that once physical wounds heal, we might pretend no further damage remains. The horrors they can adapt to, the things they can survive, it’s just as incredible as it is heartbreaking. But there’s a very big difference between surviving and thriving, and that youth that offers such ‘resilience,’ in truth, merely masks scars far deeper than we’d like to admit.

Sometimes those scars are loud; evident in bursts of rage far more violent than normal tantrums. Something they are quiet. Sometimes those scars hide until the child is grown; until they can’t be dismissed beneath the cover of youth despite never having learned how to cope with the terrors veiled in shadows only they can see, and if those around them plead ignorance to the cause of those terrors, they leave wounds that may never heal.

“Look at that! You must be a Jedi!” I exclaimed with wonder at the unblemished skin of legs once covered with tiny scrapes and burns. The girl shook her head so quickly that her hair, now hanging loose to her shoulders in puffy curls, bounced against cheeks bunched into a wide grin.

“Yup, she definitely has some kind of secret healing power.” Echo chimed, and she shook her head even more emphatically, shoulders shaking with nearly silent giggles.

Crosshair was out on patrol with Wrecker providing what cover he could from the ramp of the Marauder, his leg still preventing him from moving much. Tech still hadn’t stirred since his brief moment of near-lucidity, and Hunter snored softly from the co-pilot’s seat where, not five minutes prior, he’d denied the obvious exhaustion Echo and I had silently agreed against commenting on.

I’d spent another twenty minutes coating his battered form with bacta, fingers carefully guiding the blue gel across dark bruises and skin split beneath cruel strikes. It had felt… intimate… the way I kneeled between his legs to tend his wounds, dimmed lights soft enough to hide my blush from anyone but him as we both carefully avoided the other’s gaze, and I couldn’t help but remember the quiet moment just before coming out of hyperspace above that feral planet where I’d so nearly died to the locals' poisonous arrows. It felt like so long ago… but the way he’d held me, arm locking around my waist in a silent plea to stay as he'd laid nearly bare atop my bed, skin still glistening with oils and body blissfully limp in the aftermath of my touch… The memory of it still sent my heart racing.

He’d declined my offer to help him into a fresh set of blacks, and I tried not to argue as he bit back a wince from how the act of dragging the sleek fabric down his powerful form tortured already abused flesh, instead turning my attention absently toward Tech if only to grant myself a moment's reprieve from the heaviness lingering on air rife with shame and want and denial. There was no place for those feelings here. Not anymore.

“I bet she haS other hidden powers, too.” I continued, heart alight at the beaming smile on her innocent face.

“Yeah? Think she’s hiding a lightsaber somewhere?” Echo asked suspiciously, making the girl’s eyes dart to him with an excitement poorly veiled beneath mock nervousness.

“Only one way to find out.” I replied, bringing my hands up as of I were about to snatch her. A squeal burst from her lips as she leapt from the chair and took off down the small room, gangly limbs flailing with that precious, youthful clumsiness as she raced to climb the first few rungs of the ladder before I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her against me with a victorious laugh. My entire body warmed at the look on Echo’s face as I turned back to him, giggling child locked to my chest. There was no trace of tension or dread or regret in eyes so often weighted beneath far too much guilt. Instead, his lips just hinted at a soft smile, stance loose where he’d lazily risen from his seat.

“Well?” he pressed, making a show of crossing his arms over his chest. I let my hands dance over ticklish skin under the guise of patting the girl down while carrying her.

“I'm afraid she's too clever for me.” I lamented. “Wherever she's stashed it, I fear we’ll never find it.” He let out a quiet chuckle as the girl paused her thrashing just long enough to stick her tongue out at him, his hands reaching up to fondly ruffle her hair.

“Alright, little jetii, let's get out of here before your giggles wake that guy up.” He nodded back toward Hunter, even breaths still enunciated with the faintest rumble. She nodded and readily leapt down from my arms before darting back to the ladder, not waiting for us to join her as she scrambled up the worn metal once more.

“You'd think she hadn’t just been held prisoner in a kriffing black site…” Echo murmured, that earlier warmth lost beneath a deep worry.

“It’s easier to pretend to be happy than it is to let yourself be scared.” I whispered back.

“Those feelings aren't going to just go away.” I looked back at him with a quiet understanding, wondering how desperately he’d tried to ignore his own fears, how violently they still haunted him.

“No,” I agreed softly, “they don't… but she'll have her entire life to deal with what happened. And, hopefully, she'll be surrounded with people who love her to help her through it.” He glanced toward me, eyes resting on mine for a long, silent moment before something clattered loudly overhead followed by a hissed curse.

“Crosshair's back.” I couldn't quite hide the humor in my voice as we both started toward sound.

-

“They've got the planet on lockdown.” Echo reported. “Which means the Senator is still here, but it also means it's going to be a lot harder for us to get out."

“It also means they'll have him hidden somewhere even more heavily guarded than the last place.” Came the grumbled reply.

Crosshair and Wrecker stood close to the arc as they spoke in hushed voices while the girl kneeled atop Hunter’s cot with Lula dancing between her small hands, some foreign tune humming softly through pursed lips.

I wanted to help. Maker, how I wanted to pluck the correct answer from the ether that we might hurry and focus on our own escape from this tortured world… but this: plotting and strategizing, accounting for all known factors and preparing for inevitable surprises… this was beyond me.

“I anticipate his position will be made known shortly.” Tech stated from behind me. My attention instantly snapped toward him.

“Tech! You shouldn't be up yet!” I scolded, already snatching my datapad with a mumbled, “The hell… None of my alerts went off…”

“I disabled them.” He answered nonchalantly, and offered no hint of chagrin at the glare I shot him. “I’d already reviewed my vitals. There were no signs of abnormalities, thus no reason to delay my return.”

“Tech…” I sighed, making no attempt to hide my frustration even as his brothers smirked at us.

“I am…” his voice quieted, and I couldn’t help but mirror that quiet as I looked at him, as I noted the odd stiffness in his jaw beneath eyes narrowed in an attempt to gather his thoughts, “impressed that you were able to repair the damage to my arm. I anticipated waking to find it gone… Thank you.” My own jaw tensed briefly at the knowledge of just how close he'd come to exactly that, and I gave a small nod.

“Then we would'a had to get you somethin’ like what Echo's got!” Wrecker chuckled as he said it, but his voice was still oddly subdued.

“While I admit to a certain degree of curiosity toward being able to connect directly to a network relay, I think I'd prefer to keep my natural appendages.” Tech replied dryly, but then he glanced toward Echo with a subtle, contrite frown.

“Yeah. Me too.” Echo grumbled, but offered his brother a small smirk before turning the conversation back toward the mission.

I let out a short breath before finally allowing myself to wander away from the conversation, attention turning back toward the girl, who's earlier glee had finally begun to dwindle. Lips draw  into a gentle smile, I sat softly atop Hunter's bed with her.

“Not much fun all by yourself, huh?” I kept my voice quiet, and my heart broke at the way her lips bunched, jaw grinding as she let her hands drop heavily to the now wrinkled bedding. For just a moment, she released the toy, arms raising as her fingers began to move with some half-hearted intent before catching herself and going still once more, but that was enough. I recognized that halted gesture.

“You know,” I whispered, as though I was about to share a secret, “when things are really scary, and we have to be really quiet, we use our hands to talk to each other.” Her eyes flashed up to mine though she kept her head tucked to her chest, reserved interest poorly stifled beneath a dejected frown.

“Watch.” I murmured before turning back to the others. Cross met my eyes and paused at the beseeching expression on my face. I smiled gratefully as I waved a quick question.

Number of nearby hostile? His brows pulled together, confused, but he hesitated only a moment before replying.

All clear.

My attention darted back to the girl at the sound of her sharp gasp. With Lula tucked beneath her arm, she jumped from the bed and raced across the room to the others, and I couldn't help but chuckle at how quickly I'd been forgotten.

It was Tech she ran to, though her gaze kept darting between the others as well, and I cringed slightly as how forcefully she threw herself into his side. He froze mid-word, attention instantly dropping to the girl. She seemed to struggle with keeping herself pressed tightly against him while still freeing her hands enough to sign something, and he automatically lowered himself to a knee to better address her.

“Yes, I can understand you.” He said it so thoughtlessly, as though it were almost silly to assume otherwise, but the way that girl’s face lit up left me tightening my jaw to keep my breath steady. Her hands became a blur of movement, but he didn't hesitate in responding.

“Standard soldiers have a very limited and specialized set of signals for instances when verbal communication could prove dangerous, but I am quite well versed in the more standardized sign language you appear to be using.” He answered. I understood only a few snips of the flurry of signs that followed. Scared. Home. Dad. Help. Mean. Tech, however, nodded knowingly.

“I assure you, from what you've said, your father's kidnapping was in no way a consequence of your actions, and my squad and I will do whatever is needed to free him as well.” The motion for “punch" was unmistakable, and even Tech let out a small huff of laughter.

“While I appreciate your enthusiasm, I do not believe it would be wise for you to accompany us… No, droids would be more likely to use you as a hostage than they would be to show you any leniency due to your being “small,” thus eliminating any strategic advantage having an additional person keeping watch might grant.” Crosshair rolled his eyes at Tech's reply, and I couldn’t help but chuckle softly.

There was something wonderfully familiar about this; the hum of their voices weaving into a gentle chorus I’d heard a thousand times yet would never bore of. I don’t know when I shifted atop Hunter’s bed to let my back rest against the sidewall, when my head gradually fell toward my shoulder as the day’s exhaustion finally made itself known once more, but I didn’t doubt that it was their voices that lulled me into a gentle sleep.

-

“Hey… come on, mesh’la… need to wake up.”

A grumble caught in my throat, shoulders tensing against the ache of such an unforgiving position.

“Don’t yell at me – we all tried to convince you to lay down.” The air of annoyance twisting those words was ruined beneath the smile I could hear woven through that low rasp.

“…liar.” A quiet huff of laughter was his only retort before letting his hand whisper over my shin, fingers tightening for barely a breath before the touch was gone.

“Hunter’s waiting to go over the plan.” He continued. I begrudgingly forced my eyes open just in time to watch him take a small step back, arms already adorned in armor folding across his chest, fond smirk still playing with thin lips. “Not that it’s much of a ‘plan’.” He added with that familiar façade of disdain.

“That’s our specialty.” I replied, words taut as I curled my arms over my head, back arching in a vain attempt to stretch out the lingering stiffness before pushing myself toward the edge of the narrow cot. He merely hummed in response, the quiet sound infused with every ounce of resignation he felt toward that fact, and I let myself laugh softly at the small scowl it drew to his face.

Hunter's gaze flicked only briefly toward me as we arrived in the cabin. The ramp was still open, inviting the midnight air to bring a pleasant chill into the normally stuffy room. We were on the very outskirts of the forest, where the treeline ended so abruptly, the prairie that followed looked oddly intentional. Wisps of light occasionally danced between the distant strands of tall grass, tiny bursts of yellows and gold gleaming brilliantly for mere moments before fading back into a gentle darkness.

I wondered if Tech had already spoken on the seemingly magic chemical reaction granting the tiny insects that burst of luminescence. I wondered if he and Hunter had needed to corral the small girl to keep her from racing off to see them up close, and I wondered if Crosshair could still see smoke from the havoc wrought upon that wretched base, if the trees still smoldered and the air still burned with the scent of ozone from electrical fires. Probably not. By now, the site had likely already been cleared and returned to an unnatural illusion of feral wilderness, a realization that left my skin crawling with the knowledge of what nightmares that artificial wilderness had concealed.

“Echo and Tech were able to pinpoint the ship they evacuated the Senator on and traced it to a transfer station three klicks outside the city.” Hunter started, hip cocking as he glanced over the screen of his datapad.

“Given their obvious failure to conceal that fact, they’re clearly attempting to use the Senator to lure us in a trap.” Tech added.

“And we’re going to take advantage of that.” Hunter continued, and I had to pointedly keep myself from sighing at his haughty smirk. “Echo, Wrecker: you two are heading straight for the transport. Rig as much of their docks up with explosives as you can. Cross – I want you on the north end to start: take out the power transformer, then find a place to whole up near the Marauder. Provide cover fire where you can, but be ready to bring the Marauder in for a pickup as soon as the Senator is secured.” Tech’s fingers tapped impatiently at his thigh as Hunter spoke, and took the first opportunity he could to cut in.

“That transformer is only a decoy. The real one is hidden underground.” He explained quickly. “There’s likely to be a brief interruption of power intended solely to sell the deception before the real generator kicks back in.”

“That’ll give Tech and I an opportunity to grab one of their smaller ships as a distraction while they go on the defen-”

“Wait.” I said firmly, brows furrowing as I met Hunter’s confused gaze. He went perfectly still, clearly shocked to be interrupted. “You can’t go running around a Separatist base, right now, Hunter. It’s bad enough the others are going, but you’re barely standing.” He didn’t answer for a moment, as though expecting that heavy silence to be enough for me to back down, but my gaze didn’t falter.

“I’ll be fine, Doc. If everything goes according to plan, we should be in and out in-”

“No.” I said, voice granting no room for argument, and a flare of frustration darkened eyes still swollen with heavy bruising as he turned his full attention to me. “You want me to list off all the reasons you should still be in bed? The broken ribs, internal bleeding that’s only barely patched, probably a mild concussion at best; all of which could be exasperated with even light activity.”

“Your concerns are noted, but these are extenuating circumstances, and we don’t have the luxury of being overly cautious.” My own frustration turned nearly violent at his dismissive retort, shoulders drawing back as I glared up at him, pointedly ignoring the way Crosshair was fighting back a smirk.

“You can complain all you want about me being overly cautious from the damn cockpit of the Marauder.” I retorted, nearly snarling at him.

“This isn’t up for discussion, Doc. I’m not-”

“You’re right: this isn’t a discussion.” I interrupted sharply. “As squad medic, I have the final say on this. Not you.” Crosshair looped his arms over his chest, hip cocking slightly with an amusement he no longer tried to hide while the others stood frozen, stances rigid as they watched in tense silence as Hunter stared me down. I could see the enraged sense of betrayal stealing over him, heard it in the heaviness of his carefully controlled breaths, and I hated the guilt that coiled through my chest. But I didn’t back down. The risk was too great.

“I’m pulling rank, Hunter.” I stated, voice painfully even, the faintest hint of an apology quieting the almost whispered words. “I’ll go with Wrecker – I’ve picked up enough of his tips here and there to help set the charges, and Echo can help Tech nab a decoy ship.” That silence grew almost debilitating, and I felt the way my heart raced beneath the weight of this moment. Hunter’s reaction meant more than just this mission. If he refused, if he ignored my orders now… that would illustrate more than just a lack of respect for me as a medic. It would call into question my very place on this squad and my ability to be their medic…

Right hand curling into a tight fist, Hunter’s lips just hinted at a scowl before those infuriated eyes finally turned away from me, shoulders drawn taut as he stormed around us and vanished into the fore of the ship without a word. I didn’t watch him go, though his brothers showed no such restraint, staring in shock as their Sargeant disappeared down the stairs to the cockpit.

It was Echo that finally broke the silence.

“Wrecker, make sure Doc has what she needs to help you set the charges.” Wrecker’s attention shifted to the arc with a fresh note of surprise before coming back to himself.

“Yeah… right…” He muttered, hesitating for just a moment more before glancing toward me and then starting toward the supply room.

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[leenathegreengirl]

Some bridges just can’t be crossed….(A flashback)

(To find out what led to this moment in Crosshair and Kahrin’s past, please read my amazing friend @legacygirlingreen ‘s beautiful story about it below):

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[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

[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)

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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

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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.

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

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[laspicyfresa]

HAPPIEST OF BIRTHDAYS TO MY COUSIN, SISTER, BEST FRIEND, AND 79s COWORKER, VALERIA!!!!! @valeriarc 😌

Had to draw her little Chiss OC. She’s got an energetic and hardworking yet flirty personality that catches the eye of any clone that walks through those our doors and although she has a special relationship with some of them (wink wink) her one true love is the bandana wearing sergeant 💋

Te amo, wor! 🫵🏼😘

[retrospect1003]

OC Commission: Doc! (Shoutout to @leenabb104104)

Ignoring that I literally lied about having that next chapter out soon, I recently commissioned a lovely artist for some art of my OC Doc in Calling All Skeletons! Here she is!

AAAAA I LOVE MY GIRL SO MUCH!!!! GO GIVE @leenabb104104 ALL THE LOVE! SHE IS AMAZING!!!

[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!

[oceansssblue]

100 CELEBRATION — PROMPT 15. ARRANGED MARRIAGE / FAKE DATING

CROSSHAIR/F READER 💖

WARNINGS: past friendship breakup, fluff fluff fluff.

Note: I originally had a different idea planed for Crosshair with this prompt (a proper arranged marriage oneshot), but it was becoming extremely long so I decided to park that one out for the future and came up with this little idea instead. I hope you like it! We ony have two more prompts left (servant!rex & demon!echo); for which I've planned a longer story, so I might just acept requests to give you all a little something while I write that. I'll let you know when I decide that. Xx, Blue.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

As soon as the words come out of your mouth, you know it's a big, ugly mistake. The eyes of your ex-best friend and sister widens; the surprise and incredulity so raw and visible in their expresions it hurts. Yes, your luck in love has been sparse; but it shouldn't be that much of a shock to hear things are working out for you for once.

"What? Since when?"

At least your sister is on the good side of surprised. On the confused but genuine one. The girl you used to consider like a second sister, however, –Mara–, almost sneers at the –admitedly, very false– news.

"More importantly" she waves of your sisters questions impertinently and asks "With who?"

You blurt out the first name that comes to your mind.

"Crosshair".

That's the second, big, ugly mistake. You don't even know if you could consider him a friend. He's no stranger –you've seen each other fair enough in both the market and Cid's Salon–; but words are few and far between the two of you. You know more about him by his brother's and Omega's stories than by the man himself. He's incredibly reserved.

Ana seems to recognise the name.

"Isn't he one of Wrecker's brothers?"

You nod in silence under Mara's watchful eyes. Your sister Ana has a stand of sweets in the market; Wrecker is a regular there.

The Batch is a curious bunch. They're hard to forget.

"Well" Mara all but looks you up and down and you have to clench your teeth to not hiss a few ill-intended words at her. "I'm glad you're having fun even if it's with a worthless fling".

"Mara..." Ana intervenes, calling her out with a frown on her face.

Your sister is the sweet, quiet type of girl; but she's protective as well. She's probably suspicious of this, of not having heard of it from you before; but she'll stay quiet for your sake until she has the oportunity to interrogate you in private. She knows you and Mara have history.

Mara shrugs and grins; and your smile is just as fake. She has developed an uncanny ability to make your blood boil.

"I wouldn't call an engamement that" you casually reply, if only just to shut her mouth and swipe her smile off of her face.

Mara's satisfied expression drastically shiftes. Oh, it tastes so sweet... It almost makes you forget that everything you've said is a sequence of lies. Almost.

"Look at you... It's been ages since you had something remotely serious" Mara comments in an humiliating chirp. "He must be special. Why don't you bring him along next friday? We're having a small get together at home with a few old friends. I'd love to meet him".

Panick fires up in your veins; and some must be reflected on your face, because Mara smiles wide like a lothcat.

Anger burns through you; once again remembering all the pain this woman has put you through.

You arrange a small, relaxed expresion for her.

"I'll try to convince him" you accept, swallowing down all the anxiousness and doubts. "I guess you'll send me the details?"

At first, Mara looks surprised; but she quickly falls back to her irritatingly sweet condescendance, smiling politely.

"Of course. I still have your com number. I'll let you know".

Mara nods at your sister; then bristly turns around without bothering on sending a goodbye to you as well.

You watch her retreating form with a mix of relief and wariness. Ana bumps her shoulder with yours.

"Hey" she calls you, quietly worried. "You okay?"

You sigh, tension melting away from your shoulders momentarily.

"Yeah" you glance back at her. "I just have to find the way to convince Crosshair to act as my soon-to-be husband. Should be easy, right?"

Ana chuckles at your sarcasm, inmediately catching up on your lie.

"You digged that hole down yourself" she reminds you, good-heartedly. "It would have been easier if you've thought of Wrecker or Hunter. Or even Tech".

You sigh tiredly. Crosshair agreeing to act as if he were in love with you?

"Yeah, right".

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

"Cross!" Wrecker's voice echoes in the cockpit of the Marauder. "Gun-girl is here to see you!"

You try not to wince at the volume –nor the pet name–; waiting patiently and praying the man won't interpret the visit as an invasion of his privacy. This ship is their home, after all. And like you pointed out before, he's very private.

Slow, carefull footsetps anounce his presence. Seconds later, a fully armoured Crosshair –minus the helmet– is staring at you with a mix of calculated wariness and confusion. He's probably wondering what the hell are you doing here.

"Hello, Crosshair" you greet him nervously. "Can I talk to you for a bit?"

He continues to stare at you in that way of his you find both nerve-wracking and intriguing; then glances at his smiling brother, and gestures you to come in.

You take a deep, centering breath and step up on the ramp of the Marauder, firmly walking towards the cockpit. You've been inside the ship only once before; when you delivered some supplies for the guys' weapon stock. Crosshair follows you; Wrecker stays outside. The Marauder is otherwise empty; which means that at least only a maximum of two persons will hear how stupid you are.

"So?" Crosshair asks, sprawling down on the pilot chair and prompting you to take the other one.

You bite your lip anxiously before you start.

"So... I need your help" he arches an eyebrow –how can that look so elegant?– and you start to explain yourself. "I... May have told someone I despise I was engaged to you, and she might have invited us to her house next Friday. I was wondering if you'd... agree to play the part?"

It sounds even more ridiculous out loud; as if you were pulling a silly prank. Crosshair's neutral reaction doesn't help either. Far from showing surprise or irritation, he stays painfully normal.

He tilts his head; long fingers taking a toothpick of his pack and placing it between his lips. A sort of endearing habit of his.

"Sounds like unnecesary trouble for me" he points out, not necessarily cold but brutally honest.

You search your brain for an answer that could please him. Perhaps if you give him something in return for this favor...

"I have a new sniper scope model arriving soon. I'll let you try it out first. I'll give you a discount too".

The offer seems to catch his attention; for he hums thoughtfully while never taking his eyes off of you.

"And who is this person you despise?" He asks –dare you say– curiously.

Your answer is acompanied by a long tired sigh.

"An old friend. She tried to humiliate me pointing out my lack of love life and I... Had to swipe her smile off of her face".

You're ashamed of admiting it to him. He always looks so controlled... You know this whole thing is inmature and futile. You don't want him to see you like a kid.

"What happened between the two of you?"

You're surprised by the ammount of personal questions Crosshair is asking. You would have thought he would have inmediately shut down your idea; or perhaps agreed but without wanting to get into the emotions and story behind it. Perhaps you don't know him as well as you thought.

"She gave me some very good memories back when we were younger" you admit. "But I then realized she's the kind of person who wants to see you doing good; but never better than herself. She tried to sabotage me when that ocasionally happened. Stole a boyfriend, a job, or two".

You hadn't intended to go that deep; but you mean every single word, and your vulnerability is exposed to Crosshair for the first time ever. For all he's a private person, you are too. You'd hate for others to consider you weak.

Crosshair observes you for what feels like an eternity, taking the information in. You force yourself not to hide from his perceptive eyes.

"Mm" he finally hums, thoughtful. "There's something I still don't understand. Why was I the first name that came to your mind?"

You blink back at him, stunned, cheeks blushing upon the implication of the question. You hadn't really thought about it either. You had somehow always paid more attention to Crosshair than the rest of your clients; but you had never realised it might mean you were simply into him. Are you?

"Well" you take a bit too long to answer, trying to sound casual and firm. "You are, as far as I know, single, and no-one really knows you in Ord Mantell. It seemed the most logical option".

Crosshair looks skeptical, but he lets you get away with it.

"Right..." he drawls, searching for something in your still warm face. Then, to your surprise, he smirks and says "I'll check your stand for that new scope on thursday. You can update me on our love story then".

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

At first you were dissapointed, then irritated, and now worried. Crosshair had agreed to meet you outside of Mara's house at eight; but no matter how long you waited for him, he hadn't appeared. You had had no other option than to knock on Mara's door on your own; and her grin upon seing you arriving alone had been another level of irritating. You had set up an excuse for him, trying not to make your hurt visible. After a few minutes of interiorising it, you had grown angry; Crosshair could have just refused to help you instead of backing off at last minute without a warning. Halfway through the dinner, though, you had received a message on your coms; and all those negative emotions had switched to genuine worry.

An hour later, in the quietness of the kitchen, you carefully read the text again.

"Mission off-world, things got out of hand. Just arrived. I'll be there shortly –Crosshair."

You're aware that the Batch often work as bounty hunters for Cid; and how the boys sometimes help with small missions for the Rebellion. You've never asked into it –you understand how dangerous the fact that you know they're on the run from the Empire and helping the Rebellion already is–; but you know it's usually dangerous, specially the second sort. You wonder just how out of hand things got. Did someone got hurt? Did he?

You're a nervous wreck throughout the rest of the night; and Mara and his friends –pretty polite and nice for a bitch like her, you have to say– can't help but notice and finally question it.

"Sweetheart, is everything okay?" One of the girls ask, genuine concern on her eyes.

You force a small smile on your face.

"Yeah. Just... Crosshair commed me telling me he had some trouble on his way back to Ord Mantell, so I'm just a bit worried" you tell them, all but Mara's face showing various degrees of sincere understanding. "I'll be fine once he gets here".

"If he manages to arrive at all, that is" Mara halfway sneers, then plasters a big smile on her caked face. "Shall we move outside for a drink?"

Your mind is so focused on Crosshair that you don't even feel the need to assesinate her this time.

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

When you're well onto your third glass of wine, you feel a hand carefully grazing the skin of your spine. Lips brush across the crown of your hair; the combination bringing pleasant goosebumps to your body. Far from tensing at the unexpected contact, you melt upon hearing his voice.

"Hello, darling" his low tone is a sin. Then, he turns to look at the rest. "Forgive me for arriving this late".

You hear a chorus of acceptance from Mara's friends; but you turn towards him and your attention is solely fixed on Crosshair. You frown at the scratches on one side of his face; an angry red against his skin. Your fingers involuntarily travel upwards to his cheek, carefully tracing the contour of them.

"You're hurt" you whisper, ignorant to how Mara is quietly observing the interaction between the two of you.

Crosshair hums and takes your hand in his, squeezing softly while he takes a seat besides you at the table. He doesn't let you go; and you don't make the effort either.

"I'm okay" he assures you, voice calm. "Did I miss something interesting?"

To your luck –because you're suddenly enthraced by him, by the way the moonlight makes his grey hair look almost white and his dark brown eyes lighten up– someone answers for you.

"Just a lot of embarassing stories about our youth" there's a general laugh, and Crosshair conjures a tiny tiny smile.

Your heart swoons upon noticing it.

His gaze turns back to you. You're painfully aware of how he's still craddling your hand in his; of how gentle he is.

It's a whole new side of him you didn't even know it existed. You feel honoured to experience it.

"You'll have to tell me yours later" he tells you, and you force yourself to come back to the present with a chuckle.

"No thanks. I'd like to remain engaged tomorrow morning" you joke, and everyone laughs.

Even Mara seems reluctantly enchanted with Crosshair at the end of the night.

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

"Well, that went surprisingly well" you comment once you've parked your speedcar next to the Marauder, having offered Crosshair a drive back. "You're a great actor, by the way".

Crosshair shrugs, body now turned towards you while you both remain sitting in the privacy of your car.

"It's not like it was a difficult task" he answers, eyes flickering over your face before slowly adding. "You know what I thought we'd had to do, and we haven't yet done?"

He gives you a few seconds to process his words, his intentions; before one of his hands slowly take hold on your chin and tugs you forwards to join your lips together in a surprisingly soft, unhurried kiss. Warmth bursts inside of you, heart speeding inside of your chest; surrendering to the kiss with a pleased sigh. When you part from each other, you see an unusual vulnerability in Crosshair's face.

"Well, it would have been impossible not to sell it, with a kiss like that" you try to rest tension to the scene.

Crosshair's following words shake up your world; make you look at things with a different perspective.

"It's easy to sell something when not all of it is built upon lies".

The meaning behind it swirls in your mind. He's admiting there's something between the two of you besides the mess you've put both of you through. His half-conceiled confession leaves you too shocked to react; and you can only stare at him while he gets out of your car.

"Night, gun-girl" he smirks through your window, and then casually walks away towards the Marauder.

Perhaps you'll see him tomorrow in the market, and perhaps you'll go on an actual first date with your fake soon-to-be husband.

You drive back home with thoughts of Crosshair swimming in your head. You're sure you'll dream of that kiss tonight as well.

THE END.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

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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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““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.”

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"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!!! ❤️‍🔥​

[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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