#the body temperatures of the crew after force bonding with them. im just also always cold so bad circulation representation

[kirnet]

kirnet x atton (but not really lol). 2.2k words. Dxun sucks ass

Despite everything that she had done as Revan’s left hand, Kirnet believed in the light side of the Force. It moved through every living creature; every sentient, beast, and plant (and droid, Kirnet had argued at every opportunity with Malak as Revan laughed at their squabbling). Therefore, everything deserved compassion and humility, from the Grand Chancellor of the Republic to the smallest insect. As flawed as she found her old masters, she still clung to their belief that all life was precious, even when they couldn’t bring themselves to live and die by their own teachings.

As hard as had been since taking over the Ebon Hawk, Kirnet tried to follow this philosophy. Of course, sometimes it couldn’t be helped that the occasional mercenary needed an emergency amputation or that a Sith assassin got gently helped over the side of one of Nar Shaddaa’s lofty gangways. But, to Kreia’s frustration, Kirnet tried to be kind. She had done her share of harm in the war. Harm that she could feel seeping from the scarred surface of Dxun into her bones as she circled the Hawk, checking for any damage from their recent run in with Onderon’s fleet.

Harm that she was about to unleash all over again if these kriffing mosquitos wouldn’t leave her alone.

She waved her hand around her ear, trying to gently signal to the offending creature (Yes, creature, she reminded herself. A creature that can feel the Force just as well as the people on my ship) that it should get lost. For the moment, it took the hint and buzzed off. Kirnet sighed, her shoulders relaxing as she wiped the sweat from her brow. Dxun wasn’t just hot, it was humid. Oppressive. It sat on her shoulders and pressed her down into the overgrown earth. She was well aware of what lay buried under the tall grass. Ship fragments. Mandalorian armor. That overeager Jedi with the lopsided smile, just knighted the week before, who always sat at her right in the mess hall and offered her their leftover gruel. They had the funniest laugh, she remembered.

The tall grass tickled her calf, bringing Kirnet back to her senses. She forced her right foot forward, then her left, until she was back on her lazy path around the pockmarked Hawk. Her hand fell to her bare neck, where she could already feel the bumps left by Dxun’s own insect fleet beginning to form.

Sure, it’s not in mint condition, and there's damage from Onderon’s “Welcoming Committee”, but I don’t see why Atton needs to spend all of his time-

Buzz.

The kriffing bug was back. 

Or maybe one of it’s friends. No, Kirnet was sure it was the same one. It was here to spite her. Punish her for everything she had done to this moon. Her fists clenched at her side as she closed her eyes, partly to relax herself, and partly to keep the insect from successfully diving into them.

This was a living being, a fellow creature of the galaxy. A being deserving of a Jedi’s compass-

Was there another fucking one?

There was! The droning was twofold around her head. Pressure built behind Kirnet’s eyes and pushed up on her feet and down on her shoulders. It pushed and squeezed on all sides like a vice as the swarm grew and stabbed at her eardrums. That nasally, buzzing laugh. Kirnet had made a joke at Malak’s expense. The table had laughed along with her. What was that knight’s name again?

Her hands snapped open, leaving her with blissful quiet as the mosquitos hung suspended in the air. Force, she would embrace any ancient Sith teaching to be able to suspend every mosquito on this Force forsaken planet at once. Anything to get that incessant droning to stop. Maybe Bao-Dur would make her another Mass Shadow Generator. 

Wow. Revan had really rubbed off on her.

“Uh, Kirnet? Everything alright?”

She released the insects at the voice, not even noticing their stuttering buzzing as she turned to Atton. He had eschewed his usual jacket for his undershirt, currently drenched in sweat and rolled up past his pale forearms. Kirnet tried to blink the dots from her eyes. Or were they mosquitoes?

“Kirnet?”

“Hmm?”

“I asked if everything was alright?” He was closer now, brow furrowed as he leaned in. Kirnet could feel his gaze ghost up her arms and over her swelling neck.

Mustering a flimsy smile, she shrugged. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

Whatever assessment he was making of her had apparently concluded. Atton’s eyes hardened again as he waved his hydrospanner in her face. “Because you raised the temperature by about ten degrees, and it does not need to get any kriffing hotter on this planet.” He looked down at his own shirt, his face contorted in disgust. “Just look at me,” he grumbled.

Kirnet crossed her arms and leaned against the Hawk’s landing foot, her homicidal ideations towards insect-kind long forgotten. “I don’t know about that. I quite like the heat,” she lied, ignoring the fat bead of sweat running down her forehead, and held out her hand. Atton rolled his eyes and released the spanner, Kirnet snatching it up with the Force from his open hand. Space, it felt wonderful to be able to do that again. She studied it for a second before turning her attention back to the ship. “And labor makes you warm, flyboy,” she quipped. “I know you’ve never worked a day in your delicate life-”

“Excuse me?” Kirnet sniggered at Atton’s predictable outburst, a quiet laugh behind his words betraying his amusement. “I’ve spent all day working on this hunk of scrap metal and this is the thanks I get?” He scoffed and leaned on the support next to Kirnet, their arms brushing together. “Delicate! Delicate she calls me!”

With a snort, she dropped her head onto his sweaty shoulder. Atton jumped the tiniest amount, so subtle that even Kirnet almost missed it, before leaning into her. “I do appreciate everything you’re doing, Atton,” she said, smirk dropping to a faint smile. He just nodded, his proximity ruffling Kirnet’s damp hair. She didn’t need to say it. He already knew.

“Though,” she drawled, pointing at the Hawk’s durasteel underbelly with the hydrospanner. Atton looked up with her, his cheek leaving the top of her head. The chill set in again. She hadn’t noticed it had left. “You could work a bit faster. The sooner you finish taking your sweet time the sooner we can get off of this hell planet.”

Cursing, Atton snatched the tool from her hand, throwing out his arms as he made his way to another battle scar in the ship’s hull. Kirnet giggled at the theatrics, the sincerity of the moment before slipping into their usual routine. “I stay behind and slave in the heat while you guys go off and -”

“And get eaten alive by bugs and bigger things.” Kirnet cut him off. Her smile dropped as she stepped closer to him. “Atton, you’re the one insisting on staying back. I’d much rather leave Bao-Dur and T3 here and take you with.” She tried to convince herself it was because Atton was much better with mines than her. (Though Mira was undoubtedly the best and was already going to be in her party. She hurriedly pushed the connotations of that thought aside.) Dxun was littered with them from the Mandalorian occupation, and while her soldiers had cleared as many as they could at the time, there were doubtless thousands more that had been missed. That Jedi had stepped on one, she blankly recalled. Their legs had flown off in two opposite directions. They had advanced on her orders.

Atton swallowed hard. “You think that droid can repair the Hawk better than I can?” Despite his tone, his voice lost it’s playful bite. 

“Yes. And so can Bao-Dur. Much faster, too.” Atton pointedly ignored her, now apparently immersed in sealing the blaster hole. Kirnet sighed and closed the distance between them. Gently, she put her hand on Atton’s, his knuckles white around the hydrospanner. He turned it off but didn’t move his gaze from the hull. “I understand not wanting to go out into the jungle,” she laughed mirthlessly. “And I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to. But, Atton, if something is wrong-”

“No!” he started too forcefully, wincing as Kirnet withdrew her hand. “No,” he said again, finally turning to look at her. “Nothing’s wrong. As boring as it is I’d rather be here than on the receiving end of a landmine.” Kirnet shrugged. No argument there. “It’s really nothing too complicated. It’ll just take a while.” His face split into a smug smile as he leaned forward against the Hawk, his arm now above her head. Kirnet noticed it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Unless you want to be crammed in an access hatch with me for a day or two.” He had the audacity to wink.

Ah. There it was. The flirtatious deflection. Usually, Kirnet would be more than happy to join in the banter, but the growing vignette around her vision and the hammering in her skull put an end to that line of thought. Fine, he didn’t want to talk about it, and Kirnet was not eager for a real argument, not one of their usual playful spats. Maybe he felt the painful chill in his bones like she did despite the sweltering heat. He was getting stronger in the Force, after all. Or was there something else he wasn’t telling her?

Maybe he just didn’t want to be the latest victim of her leadership on Dxun.

Kirnet rubbed her arms, the chill seeping in further. “I don’t want to go out there any more than you do,” she grumbled. “But something tells me that we won’t get to leave until I find-” She paused, her face contorting as she gestured vaguely towards the jungle. “Something.” Perhaps an old base? The final assault on the Mandalorians, the suicide mission she had ordered, had taken place at one of these abandoned strongholds. If she stumbled onto one, would she recognize it? Or would it be just another scar, long since scabbed over by the eager jungle?

“Suit yourself.” Atton shrugged, pushing his mop of hair out of his face and quickly turning back to the blaster hole. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”

“Nothing special, I’m sure,” Kirnet deadpanned, already starting towards the Hawk’s entrance. “I’m leaving T3- no, do not start with that. Be nice and let him help. And take time to do your meditations. We’ll be back before sundown. Hopefully.”

“Anything else?” Atton scoffed.

Kirnet paused. “Yes, actually. Just a word of advice. After you admit to someone that most of the words that come out of your mouth are lies, it’s easier to tell when you’re not telling the truth.” Atton opened his mouth, but Kirnet put out a hand to stop him. “No need to explain. You’ve already come forward with enough. But if you are stalling repairs for some reason, Atton, then I hope you’re filling your free time with something productive.”

Expression hardening into a scowl, he turned back to the damage. “I’ll get right on that, General,” he all but snarled.

Of course, General. What are your orders?

The migraine hit Kirnet with renewed vigor, almost knocking her to the ground. It took all her effort to keep her shoulders square. “Stay safe,” she mumbled at the grass. “Try not to let the bugs eat you alive. Comlink’s open if you need me.” She didn’t wait for a reply before heading up the hangar door.

“Stay safe,” is what he wanted to shout back. “Keep your head on a swivel, and I’ll come running if you need me.” Atton opened his mouth, then closed it, then settled on grinding his teeth as he listened to Kirnet��s retreating footsteps. The patch of flattened grass that she had stood on moments before tried in vain to stretch back up to its original height.  “Nice going, shutta,” he groaned. No one was around to hear him.

A mosquito landed on his arm. He slapped it before getting back to work.