#then they’re based on coruscant so they’re slightly agitated all of the time

[rooksunday]

everything the same but all of the coruscant guard troopers are werewolves

[acourtofsnakes]

Ret'urcye Mhi - Rogue, Chapter 7 | The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader (F)

Summary: Can things go back to normal after the Mandalorian saw you break down? Or have walls been torn down that can’t be replaced?

Warnings: Light swearing, I don’t want to give it away but no smut but… a ‘moment’ with some certainly hot thoughts and pining but nothing heavy though, reader has a back tattoo, let me know if I forgot anything!

AN: I have brought in Cara Dune in this, and she will be a frequent character. I by no means condone what Gina Carano did, and I am pleased and relieved that she is gone. However, I do like her character, as many others do. She IS only mentioned in this one briefly but will be a main character in a few future chapters. 

Also, Readers tattoo is loosely based on this design!(link)  I’m not sure who the exact creator is, but it was posted by Urban Threads on Pinterest, but if you know, please tell me! ❤️

Word Count: 8231

As always, credit to whoever owns the gif. I usually find them on Google or Pinterest, so message me if it’s yours ♥︎

Rogue Taglist:  @snipskixandbeskar   @weirdowithnobeardo @the-bottom-of-the-abyss​ @jackgrzs

Rogue Masterlist | Introduction| 1: Solus| 2: Arir | 3: Tor | 4: Gaa'tayl | 5: Kyr’am | 6: Cabur | 7: Ret'urcye Mhi |

Mando’a Translation: Ret'urcye mhi - Goodbye

Neither of you mentioned that afternoon. 

It hadn’t come up in the 3 days since, and it hadn’t come up today. You made sure of it. 

Every time Mando looked at you, and you just felt he was going to mention it, you’d change the subject. Or just walk away. You didn’t need to have that conversation with him. You couldn’t have that conversation with him. Or anyone. 

The Mandalorian had sat there, holding you for the hours it took for you to cry yourself out. When the shuddering sobs had given way to hitched breaths and a numb stare, he’d still sat there. Rubbing your back in gentle circles, in time with Duru’s tail gently swaying over your arm. He hadn’t uttered a single word either, just letting you break down in his arms. 

When the quiet ambiance of the ship and the pressure of his hand had lulled you into sleep, he’d carried you to his bed – well, the narrow cot that jutted out from the wall in what was supposed to be the medical area. He’d given up his sleeping compartment to Grogu a long time ago, to keep the little creature warm and safe. 

He’d laid you in, covering you with the blanket and then one more that he pulled out from a unit. 

You were asleep, so you hadn’t seen the way his gloved fingers gently brushed back the hair from your tear flushed cheeks, the way they’d lingered for a moment as he’d looked down at the soft strands gliding over his fingers. You hadn’t felt the way he’d frozen when a sudden want crashed through him, to yank off his gloves and run his bare hands through your hair, feel the silkiness and the texture for himself. 

And you also wouldn’t have noticed the way his breathing went ragged for a moment and he’d lurched back, stumbling away so quickly he nearly overturned a box on his way out of the door. 

Your sleep hadn’t remained easy. Only a few hours later, you had woken up screaming, unsure of where you were, why you were on a thin cot that smelled like metal and smoke and something distinctly unique and almost like sandalwood. It was somehow comforting, soothing. You had inhaled the scent, trying to calm down your pounding heard and regain control of your breathing.  

It was only when you could suck in a full breath that you realised where you were, who’s bed this was. 

A feeling of gratefulness had crashed over you, only to be immediately wiped out by shame. You had broken down in front of him, spat such awful, awful things to his face.

And when you heard footsteps outside the compartment door, the husky baritone of his voice as he called out your name softly, you’d gone still. Like you were back on the run, mere inches away from a hunter and one move would mean disaster. 

He’d lingered, you could see by the shadows of his feet under the tiny gap at the bottom of the door. A wild thought had come to you, that he had his hand pressed to the door and you could just.. open it. Open it and let him come in, let him carry the burden of your nightmares and your feelings even If it was just for a little while. You could share some of those plaguing thoughts that you’d unleashed today. And he would listen. You didn’t know him that well, but you knew him enough to be confident he would sit there, let you talk. He knew what it was like to be alone, to have emotions and worries that you had no choice to bear yourself. 

The temptation was so strong, you craved that contact and connection so much that you were halfway across the room before your snarling argument came back in full technicolour. The things you’d said to him. The appalling way you’d acted. 

No.

You couldn’t see him. You couldn’t face him after that. After what you had said and the way you had cracked. You shook your head firmly, waiting until you heard a sigh so soft you might have imagined it and retreating footsteps. 

It was only then you that you returned to the bed, pulling the twin blankets up high over your shoulders. 

You’d deal with seeing him in the morning, but for now, all you could do was bury your face in the thin pillow and try not to notice how it smelt like him.

Something had changed between the two of you since that afternoon. He had glimpsed a part of you that you normally kept perfectly hidden, even from yourself. 

…

You were on your way to another bounty, one of the last couple of pucks that Mando had left. 

Mando had mentioned it was a hot, desert planet and he’d prefer it if you stayed in the ship with Grogu. It’d be far too hot for the little guy out there. You had obliged happily, more than fine to stay in. You didn’t like to be too hot, it made you uncomfortable and agitated. 

The cockpit was quiet, a peaceful silence had descended upon it as Mando flew the ship. 

You’d found yourself drawn to watching his hands lately. There was something… oddly soothing about it. Watching him work the controls, hold Grogu, clean his weapons. 

You wondered if he missed the sensation of touch, and then wondered if yours and the kids presence here made it harder for him. Meant he had less chances to take off his armour and be free of it. 

Of course, that had then led you onto the thought of wondering if he slept naked when he was alone. 

The thought of him lying there, nothing hiding him, separating him from the world. 

The thin blankets sliding over the body you knew was toned, yet soft enough in all the right places. 

It made your mouth a little dry, your cheeks a little pink and you struggled to find something else to think about. 

Your eyes drifted to his hands again, remembering the sound of the gloves being drawn off the other night. 

They were mesmerising, agile, and you couldn’t stop thinking about them in your hair, on your skin. 

Stars above, get a grip, girl. 

You mentally scolded yourself for these thoughts, trying to steer your damned imagination onto something more appropriate. 

Luckily, your saviour came in the form of Mando himself. He tilted his head back slightly, enough for you to know he was talking to you, “What’s your favourite planet? Or one you’d like to visit?” 

The question surprised you, you had to admit. You weren’t used to people asking about your likes and dislikes. You smiled though, perhaps this was his gentle way to break any tension left over. “Hmm… I think… I’d have to say the planet I’d like to visit most... either Hoth or Coruscant.”

Mando laughed, that gorgeous rough, honey laugh, “Okay, Coruscant I can understand, but Hoth? Really?”

You pouted at the back of his head, “Yes!! It sounds beautiful.”

The Mandalorian laughed more, “Beautiful? Sweetheart, it’s covered in ice. It’s freezing there. All you would see is ice and snow… and more ice and more snow.”

You scowled at him now, throwing the leftover wrapper of Grogu’s cookies at his helmet, “And? Snow and ice are stunning. They’re powerful and strong. I’ve only ever been in a proper snowfall once, and I fell in love. The way the flakes float down and.. dance even if there’s the faintest breeze. And then when they land on your skin or your eyelashes like little cold kisses… The sound it makes under your boots when you walk on a fresh fall. And it softens everything, makes it easier on your eyes to see across the landscape… it’s quiet, muffled… Besides, I like the cold.”

Little did you know, Mando was grinning like an idiot under his helmet, adoring the way you defend it to him, the way you describe something as simple as ice and snow. “You like the cold, huh? Then why are you always grumbling that the heating is broken?” The teasing lilt to his voice was evident, so animated and content, compared to his usual cooler, calm silence.

You opened your mouth, then closed it again. “That is… completely irrelevant.” You looked at the back of his head, “What about you? If my choices are so hilarious.”

The Mandalorian made a thoughtful noise, “I wouldn’t say there’s one place in particular… But… there’s a few sanctuary planets dotted around. Places with really pretty, dense forests where you could walk for days and not spot anyone else. They’re protected and safe, no dangerous animals or anything allowed… literally sanctuaries. I’d like to take Grogu there… let him wander and have fun and eat things he shouldn’t without having to look over my shoulder.” 

It was the most you’d ever heard him speak in one go, and there was a tenderness in his voice that brought tears to your eyes. This man truly loved his little green adoptive son and would do anything for him. “That sounds... stunning. I’ve heard of those planets and always wondered what they were like...” 

He made a hum of agreement, fingers working over the control panel as he put it in autopilot. “One day…” He turned around in his chair, “What about your favourite colour?” 

You moved to sit cross-legged in the seat, defying the concept of a chair. “Blue. Darker blues, like a midnight blue.” You swayed your chair from side to side slightly, “Actually, the same colour as the cloak you got me. So well done, kudo’s for you.”

Mando leant back in his own chair, tapping the side of his helmet before resting his hands on his thighs again. “This thing lets me read minds; you know.”

You began pulling the pins from your hair, “Mmhm, and I can fly.” You raise an eyebrow at him, grinning. 

He chuckled, watching you intently behind the helmet though you wouldn’t know that, watching every pin get removed from holding up your hair, “It wouldn’t surprise me at this point, princess.” He tapped his thighs absently, “You wanna know the real secret?”

You nodded, reaching in for a pin that had become stuck deep in your hair, the last one. “Surprise me.” Got it. You yanked the pin out, letting your hair fall down and your fingers through it. You sighed a little in relief as you rubbed your fingertips against your scalp, chasing away any tightness from the day. 

Mando didn’t say anything. He was too distracted, to struck into silence by the sight of your hair. 

The light from the ship and coming in through the windows turned some of the strands to gold, igniting them with that fire that blazed within you – and that he’d been on the receiving end. 

His hands tightened over his thighs, because he was overtaken by a craving, a need to remove your hands and feel your hair for himself. 

It wasn’t the first time he’d had these thoughts. 

Fuck, he’d been having these thoughts since he first saw you. He just hadn’t realised them until that night he’d nearly lost his life and woken up to you passed out on his chest. 

He’d frozen, even his breathing stopping as he felt the warm weight of you, even though the armour. 

He couldn’t bear to move you, to take away that pressure, the closeness of another human that he had missed for so long. 

So, he hadn’t. He left you there. Spent hours watching you sleep, the warmth of your breath slightly fogging up the armour on his chest. 

“Lori? Anyone in there?” You tilted your head, watching the man before you that was staring at you intently, his breathing somewhat ragged. 

He startled slightly, coming back to himself, “Huh?”

You chuckled, “Where did you go? I was waiting for you to knock me off my feet with your revelation.”

He made a noise, “Uh… I.. actually can’t remember...” He tugged at his glove, an odd gesture so at odds with his usual confident demeanour. 

You tilted your head, still smiling a little, “Are you okay?”

Luckily, he was saved from answering by the beeping of the controls behind him. 

You’d arrived at the planet. 

~

It was hot. 

Beyond hot. 

The air was warm, the water was warm, you were warm. 

And already awake, having just calmed your breathing down from another nightmare, when you heard Grogu, his little coos and gurgled filtering down the hall to you. 

The poor little creature had probably woken up from the heat. You had been on this desert planet for a couple of days, opting to stay in and look after the Child whilst Mando hunted down the bounty. The days here were scorching, a dry heat that sucked the life from you immediately. Even the nights were hot, unlike normal freezing desert nights. 

Mando had returned this evening, panting from the heat after coming up from the carbonite chamber. “I swear it’s getting hotter out there.”

The cooling system on the Crest was just as temperamental as the heating, so it wasn’t exactly cool in here. The metal floors, which were normally always chilled, were warm underfoot. Mando had let you keep his room, and it was just as hot, being contained in with itself, so you’d been sleeping with the doors open. 

Not that it made a dent. Every single closed space was like a heat trap, especially Grogu’s little compartment. So, no wonder he had woken up. 

You stretched, then slipped from the cot and made your way to Grogu.

It didn’t take long to settle him, he was all tuckered out from the games you’d been playing today, so after patting his skin with a cool cloth, he had fallen back under. 

You were now at the small ‘kitchen’ area in the ship, washing out the cloth. You huffed, splashing some water on your wrists and pulling out the pin that was holding up your hair, and falling out. Grogu had a habit of tugging the ends of your hair in his little fist. 

You’d taken to wearing a thin floaty dress to bed, one you’d picked up in that market before it had turned into a horror show. The material was gauzy, allowing the heat to escape your body without it sticking to your clammy skin. What helped enormously was the large cut out in the back. It secured at the back of your neck, and then fell open, exposing almost your whole back before joining again at the base of your spine. 

It was probably the flimsiest, most sinful thing you’d ever worn, but it was gorgeous and hey, it did the job. 

You rolled your shoulders, pressing the cool cloth to your neck and you couldn’t help the sigh that escaped your lips and you could have sworn you heard a sizzle. 

Footsteps behind you startled you, breaking you from your reverie, and then Mando’s voice filtered through the silence, “Are you okay?”

You turned around, smiling when you saw him because he was still in all his armour… not that you were surprised. He must have been boiling though, under all those heavy layers. 

You nodded, lifting the cloth from your neck, “The kid was awake, but I settled him down, he was really warm.”  

His head was covered, naturally, so you wouldn’t have seen the way his eyes followed a bead of water rolling down your neck, and the unbidden thought of his tongue catching it “Thank you for seeing to him, I didn’t hear..” 

Weird. Normally he was so attuned to Grogu, hearing him before he even woke up if you were sitting together. Maybe he was tired, from his hunting. 

What you didn’t know, couldn’t know, was that he had been staring at the ceiling for the 3rd night in a row. Having thoughts that he should not be having, his body yearning for things it shouldn’t. 

You shook your head, still smiling and turned back to the sink area, “It’s no worries, I was awake anyway so… And you’ve been hunting. You deserve the rest.” You set down the cloth, running your hands through your hair and reaching for your pin to secure it back up. You faced him again, gathering your hair in your hands, “How was it?”

But he wasn’t listening. 

He suddenly moved forward, and then he was in front of you. “Wait.” His voice was low, almost strained. There was a husk to it that hadn’t been there before, but it ignited something within you. 

You froze, your hands still stuck in your hair. You looked up at him, raising your eyebrows slightly, “What..?” It was only now he was right in front of you that you could see his chest, rising and falling rapidly. “Mando, are you okay?”

He shook his head quickly, his helmet tilted down to you, his hands curling and uncurling at his sides, “Let your hair down.” His voice was still that rumbly order, and it was such an odd request that you did just that, letting it tumble back down again. Your own hands trembled slightly as you lowered them. 

A shudder seemed to roll through his body, and he rocked forward on his feet, lurching toward you in a movement that lacked his usual smooth elegance. It was unsteady, unsure. 

He stopped when he was a mere few inches away, the closest you’d been to each other since that afternoon. 

This close, you could practically feel the heat roiling off of him under his armour, and you tilted your head up to meet him, concern in your eyes, “Mando, you need to go and have a cold shower.. You sound like you’re burning up… do you feel flushed?” 

He shook his head jerkily, his hands raising, “Shh… please. I just.. I need to..” He broke off, a sharp intake of air cutting his words. 

Something else began to curl through the worry in your belly, like some instinct knew things you didn’t. You swallowed, your voice low when you next spoke, “You need to what..?”

The Mandalorian was shaking, his body tensing and untensing like he was fighting himself, telling himself not to do this. “I.. I need to touch your hair.” 

Stars, you could feel the flush that crept up his neck and cheeks, like it burned through his helmet but you stayed completely still. 

His words were whispered through gritted teeth, like he was physically trying to bite them back, “I just... I need to do this, please… I’m sorry, but I cant-” He sounded like he was in pain, still breathing raggedly. 

Heat flared through your blood, igniting a flame within you that was irresistible. You nodded, letting him see you, “Okay.” Like you could say no to him. 

The vocoder nearly didn’t pick up the huff of relief that escaped his lips and he curled his hands into fists again, “Turn around. And close your eyes.” That rough command was back and you were more than obliging to let him navigate this moment. 

You turned around, facing the kitchen area, looking over the darkened surroundings before shutting your eyes. It immediately threw all your other senses into overdrive, so you could hear every single rasp of his breath as you exposed your skin to him, and the pounding of your own heart. 

“You have to keep them closed. You cannot turn around or look.” There was a desperate plea in his voice, an edge to it that hurt your very soul. He was audibly torn, between his Creed… and this desire that he seemed to have given into. 

You nodded again, aching to reach back and reassure him, “I won’t. I won’t open my eyes or turn around until you tell me, I swear on it, Lori.” You let every ounce of truth and understanding seep through your words, praying that it would be enough to convince him he could trust you. 

Seemingly, it was, because the next noise that you heard could have struck you dead. 

It was the sound of leather rubbing against skin, the friction as they were pulled off, then a soft thump of the material on the floor. 

He had taken off his gloves. 

He was standing behind you… with his hands bare. 

You. A person he hasn’t known for very long at all, and he was partially bare, uncovered. 

Your head exploded, a million thoughts racing through it once, sending your heart into overdrive and your own breathing rapid and unsteady. 

There was a pause, like he was steeling himself and then… then the slightest sensation, like he was catching the ends of your hair, just brushing them. 

That simple movement sent a shiver down your spine, and it was enough to get him to move more. He lifted his hands and then you felt fingers slide into your hair at the back of your head, then slowly, slowly, drag down the length. 

You heard a sharp intake of breath behind you, and then a soft mutter, “It’s so soft..” You barely picked it up, even though the ship was silent. The fingers ghosted through your hair again, and his voice was bewildered, “How do you get it this soft in that tiny ‘fresher..” It was like he was talking to himself. 

You couldn’t help the soft laugh, a release of tension from this whole thing, “I can’t reveal my secrets, Lori. Can’t have your hair being softer than mine. There’s only room for one on this ship.”

He chuckled, and it ran over your bones like honey, dousing them in such a sweet sensation. “I’ll get it out of you one way or another, princess.” 

You rolled your eyes but didn’t get the chance to speak because then his fingers were running up your scalp from the base of your head to the crown, with a light pressure and the feeling was so unbelievably good, that you couldn’t help it. Your head leant back into his touch and the faintest sigh left your lips. “Keep doing that..” Your cheeks flushed, embarrassment crashing over you. Why did you have to say that?

The Mandalorian’s hands had paused, absorbing that soft sigh of pleasure and trying to cool his body. But you had a hold over him, he couldn’t say no. He merely did it again, with a firmer press of his fingers against your scalp, a light scrape of his nails just to get you to make that noise again, to be convinced that you were enjoying this just as much as he was.

You didn’t stop the next sigh, this one louder, more delighted. It was like you knew what the other was thinking, could read each other that well.  

He was driving you insane, rendering you speechless just from playing with your hair. 

You don’t know how long you stood there for, his hands running through the soft locks. 

He lifted it slightly, then made a soft noise. “I didn’t know you had a tattoo.”

A tattoo? Oh right. 

It was true, you did. It was a delicate piece, spanning from the top of your spine to just above your hips, lining your spine. It showed the phases of the moon, drawn in a minimalist style, with small stars and additional lines coming out of every other piece. 

You nodded quickly, “I’ve had it for years.” Fuck, could your voice sound anymore needy?

“What does it mean?” His words were murmured and then the next thing could have had you on your knees. 

You heard a sound that had haunted you since the night he nearly died, the sound of leather sliding over skin. The soft plop as it fell to the floor. 

No way. Has he just..

His fingers, his bare fingers ghosted down your spine, following the line of it with a touch so fleeting it almost made you whine. 

In fact, it did, a whimper rising from deep in your chest. 

He was touching you. 

His bare skin, skin that he had sworn by Creed to keep covered and hidden until marriage, was trailing down your spine as light as wings. 

Pleasure shot straight though you, making your nerves and blood sing, making your knees shake and your belly hot. 

A tug on your hair, a tug that was sharp enough to send a faint tinge of pain through your scalp had you moaning, you couldn’t help it. Your lips parted and the moan fell from them, soft, a little high and drawn. 

Mando swore under his breath, his whole body twitching behind yours, “I asked you a question, sweetheart.” There was a hoarseness to his voice that hadn’t been there before, a straining note like your moan had shot right through him. Which is had. 

What does it mean… what does it mean? Focus!!

“Um… right. When I was on the run, initially in the beginning, I never had a place to call home. Everything I knew had been torn away, and I could never settle anywhere. Every night, I would look up into the sky and watch the moon. No matter what planet I was on, no matter where I was, or if there two moons or 4, it was always there. I only had to look up, and there was something up there to ground me, give me some sense of comfort. It might look smaller, or be a different colour, but it was still the moon. And it made me feel… safe. Like it was a… a companion in a way. I just had to look a little closer, beneath the colours or the distance and there it was. It was always in the sky, so I wanted to get it tattooed so that it would always be with me. No matter if I was outside, as free as I could be, or inside and trapped.” You flushed a little, “That probably makes no sense and sounds so stupid.”

You could sense the Mandalorian shaking his head, his voice still low and soft, “No.. I think it’s beautiful. And I get it. I move around so much too, there’s only a few things that always remain the same. So I know the value of having something familiar.” He ghosted his fingers down it again, trailing all the way down to where the cut out portion of your dress stopped and then back up again. 

When his hand reached the top of the tattoo, he slid it up further, cupping the back of your neck in his broad, warm hand. 

It sent electricity shooting across your skin, that blazed as he wrapped his thumb and fingers around either side of your neck, just a gentle pressure there. 

You moaned again; you didn’t even try to hide it. Your head fell back, exposing your throat to him in a sign of instinctual submission, even though you knew he wouldn’t kiss you. You didn’t mind, you just needed more, more than this teasing touch, more than the faint brush of his fingertips. Your chest shuddered, knuckles white as you gripped the counter in an effort to stay still, “Lori…” You whined his name, hoping it would spark something in him, would force him to do something. 

You felt him shudder again, felt his hips draw back from your body like he was trying to hide just what these noises did to him. 

Fuck. 

It burned you, turned your belly molten and the power that washed over you was heady. You had turned him on just from your hair, your skin and your moans. 

The voice that came out was equally as tight, husky and you might have lived and died inside the low baritone “What is it, princess?”

Your fingers curled around the side of the counter in front of you, and you were glad he couldn’t see your face when you whispered, “Please..”. Your voice was low, pleading and aching. 

You felt him shudder behind you, a tiny groan echoing through the helmet.

His next words nearly undid you there and then, “Like I could say no to you.”

Then his fingers pressed into your spine, caressing down your back over the tattoo with such admiration, such warmth that it arched slightly, chasing more of that sensation. 

Your head was spinning, convinced you were dreaming, that this wasn’t real. 

This didn’t happen between you both. 

You flirted, sure. But that was harmless, playful. 

This… this was real. He was letting you feel his bare skin, uncovered and unhidden. 

And it was tearing you apart. 

The scrape of his thumbnail on your skin tore you from those thoughts, ripped you back to the present as it ran down the curve of your back. If your eyes had been open, they would have rolled into the back of your head. 

Your head fell forward, back arching completely into him and the sound that you let out was sinful. You could only concentrate on the that sharp, pleasurable hurt that you felt in your belly, the feeling of his other hand as it held your shoulder, holding you in that arch. 

Heat pooled low in your belly, and every dream, every thought you’d been trying to suppress about him came blasting into full technicolour. All because of his hands. 

Those damn hands you’d been pining over since saving his life. 

His head was so close over your shoulder that you could hear the low pant of his breath, the coolness of his armour barely brushing your shoulders as you pressed back into him. 

Fuck, did he want this as much as you did? 

By the way his hand tightened, he had to. You didn’t know how you knew it, but you did. 

You swallowed, licking your lips to say something, anything, spur him on but a harsh beeping suddenly broke through the thick tension on the room. A light was flashing, and by the time the fog of pleasure cleared in your head, he was gone. 

Gloves picked up and yanked on, boots disappearing up the ladder into the cockpit to check on the autopilot. 

The taut sensation in your body snapped, making you sink to the floor as though the strings had been cut.

You lifted shaking hands to your face, burying them in them with a low noise. Your head was a mess, you couldn’t get over it. Couldn’t stop feeling his fingers on your back, your hair. Hear the ragged pant of his breathing, the rise and fall of his chest against your shoulders. 

It was just touch, just the simple act of touch but it had igniting something so fierce within you. 

Something had changed. 

What the fuck was that?

You sat there on the floor for Maker knows how long, before dragging yourself up and hurrying off in search of a very, very cold shower. 

~

You weren’t quite sure how to face him the next morning. 

You had taken your cold shower, and it had done nothing to cool the fire in your blood so you had to take the initiative, hoping the crash of the water and the fact you were biting down the back of your free hand would cover the desperate moans you made. 

Little did you know, the Mandalorian was going through the exact same thing, back arched, lips biting into his lip to stop the groans. 

You hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it, stop thinking about what had occurred between you. 

Surely it broke some kind of rules of his Creed?

He had touched you with his bare skin. You weren’t married. You weren’t together. You didn’t even know his name. 

Yet he had touched you and.. reacted to you. 

Maybe that was just instinct, his body’s natural response to such things. 

But he had carried on… until you were disturbed anyway. 

Your head went round and round in these circles until your body had calmed down enough to sleep. 

…

You rose early, wanting to be washed, dressed and ready and doing something to occupy you before you had to think too much about what you were going to say.  Maybe just… Good morning?

Sure. Good morning was fine. 

Normal. 

It totally didn’t reveal what you’d had to do in the shower, or the thoughts you were still having about it. 

You had this discussion with yourself all the way up the ladder of the cockpit, and when you rose to your height, you blurted it out in a cheery voice before you could bail, “Morning!”

Breezy. Nailed it. 

The Mandalorian was sitting in the pilot’s chair, fiddling with controls and levers, gloves firmly on. “Good morning. Did you sleep okay in the heat?” 

You nodded, sinking down into the pilots chair and feeding Duru a treat, “Yes, thank you. Finally.” You stroked under Duru’s chin, your eyes straying to those hands as he slide them over some switches. 

The same hands that had cupped the back of your neck and trailed fire down your spine. 

A flush started to creep along your cheeks, so you quickly looked away, “Did you?”

The light bounced off of his helmet as he nodded, “Yes, thank you.”

Polite. His words were polite. Almost... distant. 

Okay… Okay, so maybe he just feels awkward?

You bit your bottom lip, worried if you should say something. 

No, leave it. He no doubt feels over-exposed and maybe shy about what happened last night. Don’t bring it up. Just act normal.

You nodded faintly to yourself and returned your attention back to Duru. 

~

Mando was ignoring you. 

You had been trying to deny it, but he most certainly was. 

Yesterday, he had engaged in talking to you now and then throughout the day, but only passing comments and a few spare words. 

You had spoken more when you were beating the shit out of each other. 

You kept telling yourself that it was just lingering awkwardness from how to go back to normal after that night, but the gnawing in your gut told you otherwise. 

It had been shouting at you this morning when he had parked the ship on a planet, announced he was going hunting and he’d be back in a few hours. 

Then he’d just gone. 

You had waited for him all day, mooched around the ship, played with Grogu and Duru and tried not to worry. 

You sat up for hours, even when the little ones had gone to sleep, waiting to talk to him. 

You’d convinced yourself that you should talk about. You should tell him you didn’t expect anything from him. That you didn’t hate him, that he didn’t hurt you or anything like that. 

Just to tell him whatever you needed to stop this frostiness. 

You had it all planned, had every phrase and comment worked out to stop this atmosphere. 

About 15 minutes ago, you’d heard the ramp open. 3 minutes after that, the hiss and echo of the carbonite chamber. 

Then you’d heard him go and check on the kid, then go to his quarters. 

And now, it was his booted feet on the steps to the cockpit that held your attention. 

You took a deep breath, prayed to the Maker and spun your seat to face him as he rose up. 

The mere sight of that beskar-clad body set your heart thumping, but you coaxed an easy smile on your lips anyway. “Hey, how was the hunt? Cause you any trouble?”

Mando didn’t turn his head to look at you, just padded over to his seat and spun it to the control panel, “It was fine. Easy.” His words were clipped, not harsh, just… efficient. Straight to the point. 

You swallowed, your courage faltering a little. 

Mentally, you scolded yourself. You didn’t falter in the face of a man who’d touched you and now wouldn’t talk to you. You didn’t whimper and pander to a tense atmosphere. 

You sat up a little straighter, pulling your shoulders back and you looked over at him. 

Now or never. 

“About the other night-”

“I’m taking you to Nevarro.”

What?

You had both spoken at the same time, your eyes now bewildered as you beheld him. “What?”

He said nothing, just fiddled with some controls. 

“Mando, what do you mean?” Your voice was shocked, but steady. Did nothing to betray the shock that had just hit your chest like a punch. 

You didn’t hear him swallow, only heard his words, “I’m taking you to Nevarro. We’re on the way now.” He said them softly, evenly. 

Hearing it again only made your heart drop to somewhere around your waist. 

He was leaving you. Dumping you on some planet. And going. 

Your hand tapped your leg as sort of nervous habit, and then the words were out, “Is this because of the other night?” 

It was his turn to sound bewildered, his head just turning to the side, but you knew he couldn’t see you in his peripheral, “What? What do you mean?” 

Your heart was starting to beat uncomfortably in your chest, a sense of shame beginning to creep over you, “Because of what happened in the kitchen. I didn’t see you, I didn’t see your skin.”

Mando turned to face you, one hand still on the panel, his hair half turned but head rotated all the way to look at you, “No, no it’s not because of that-“

You cut him off, “You didn’t… you didn’t offend me. Or hurt me. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry if.. if my reaction made you feel awkward or think something. I don’t.. I don’t expect anything from you, if that’s what you’re worried about. I never have, so please don’t think that.” You flushed, the shame colouring your cheeks. You couldn’t help it. But this was the reason, right? The only reason why he would be dumping you. 

He shook his head, “Stop. Stop..” His voice softened slightly, “No. It’s not because of… that. I know you didn’t see me. And I know you don’t expect anything from me.” He took a breath, “I’m taking you to Nevarro to keep you safe. That’s all. I have friends there, Cara Dune and Greef Karga. They’ll look after you. They’ve already set up accommodation for you, so you don’t need to worry about that. 

They already knew? 

Something like hurt flashed in your eyes, colouring your tone, “They… You already planned this..?” There was no bite in your voice like you would normally have in this situation, you were too shocked by the sudden change in direction your journey was taking. 

Mando tilted his head, “I contacted them whilst I was on the hunt… I wanted it set up before we got there, so you wouldn’t stand out to anyone looking.” He still looked at you, “Is that okay?”

You sensed you wouldn’t have a choice in this. So you decided to take the high road. You wouldn’t whine about this. 

You smoothed your expression over into a mask of calm, “Yes… I was just a little surprised that’s all. But thank you, really. I’ll… set about packing my things.”

He sounded confused, his head tilting back to watch you rise from your chair, “We have a couple of days yet.”

You nodded, “Oh, I know, I just want to make sure I have everything. And all the things I want to steal from you.” You laughed, even going so far as to nudge his shoulder before escaping. 

You were gone to quickly, so you wouldn’t have seen the way he slumped in his chair, dropped his head into his hands. You wouldn’t have heard the pained sigh that escaped his lips at the thought have having to part with you. 

~

~

~

The Mandalorian stood at the top of the ramp with you, staring out across the dusty, volcanic terrain of Nevarro. Your new home for… however long. 

You said nothing, running your fingers along the edge of your cloak, observing the landscape and trying not to let any emotion show on your face. You had kept up natural conversation the past few days. Saying nothing of the wrenching pain that tore in your chest every time you remembered you were departing. 

Mando cleared his throat, one arm holding Grogu and the other hand resting on his hip in a gesture that was becoming painfully familiar, “Cara and Greef know you’re coming. They’ll be waiting in Cara’s office for you.” 

Grogu was sulking, squirming every now and then to try and get out of Mando’s grip. He had screamed the whole morning, and only calmed down when you hugged him and sung to him on the way here. 

You nodded, also trying to ignore the thoughts swirling round in your mind as to why he was leaving you here. Was it because of your argument? The way you had broken down in front of him? Or was it because of the other night? The way his fingers had run through your hair, and then trailed down your spine, mapping your tattoo. His bare fingers. The things he’d whispered to you, “I just... I need to do this, please… I’m sorry, but I cant-”

“I’ve been thinking about this for days..”

Had he known then that he was going to leave you here? Or was it after that, that he’d decided he had broken one too many rules and had to get rid of you. 

Words floated over to you, and you realised he was talking again so you hauled your attention back to the conversation at hand. 

“-safe here. No one will come looking for you. Greef has taken all the pucks that have come through with your name on them and Cara will do sweeps every couple of days to make sure.”

You looked down at your feet, a bitter feeling leeching through your veins that was getting stronger with every moment you got closer to leaving the Crest. 

“Hey… look at me..” 

It was that honey softness of the Mandalorian’s tone that finally had you looking up at him, your expression perfectly masked to hide every ounce of emotion in you aside from a calm neutrality. 

He tilted his head a little, turning his body toward you, “Please don’t think I’m dumping you here. I had planned to bring you here since I destroyed the puck and the fob.”

Like that made you feel any better. 

He must have read the flicker in your eyes, because he stepped closer, his hand lifting to your upper arm, “I want you to be safe.” You could almost feel his eyes boring into yours, “I am more than grateful for everything you’ve done for me. And the kid. More than you’ll ever know. But, travelling with me.. it only increases the target on your back. People know you’re with me. I don’t want that for you.. you deserve to be free..”

And what about what I want?

You only smiled, forcing your expression to one of a lighter one and you nudged him gently, “Hey, I get it. You have to get rid of me because I’m showing you up on hunts. Can’t have anyone destroying your infamous reputation.” You rolled your eyes, laughing even if it did send daggers into your heart. 

And his. 

He squeezed your shoulder playfully, then dropped his hand. “You’re hilarious. I told you, the day you beat me is the day the stars implode.” You could feel a line of humour in his voice though, and it softened your shoulders, made you relax. 

He was doing this to keep you safe. He had planned this for weeks so you could have a break, a chance to rest. 

So, you lifted your head a little higher, your smile becoming more real. “Thank you, Mando. For everything. I can’t ever repay you for this, for what you’ve done.” You motioned to the outside. 

He nodded, his hand resting at his sides again now, “We’ll call it even.” His head remained focused on you, lingering on you and then he reached into a pouch and held out his free hand, “Here.”

You let him drop the objects in your hand, a small stack of credits. 

“It’s not much, I know, but it’ll be enough to get you some food and supplies you need. You don’t need to worry about a place to stay, Cara will show you but… You can get what you want and need.” He withdrew his hand slowly, almost reluctantly.  

You swallowed, closing your hand around the credits and you slipped them into the pocket inside your cloak. “Thank you..”

The Mandalorian merely nodded again, leaning back against the threshold of the ramp, his thumb absently rubbing circles on Grogu’s belly.  

It seemed that there was nothing else to draw this goodbye out, so you took a breath, straightening your cloak. “Well… I guess I’ll say goodbye then.” You looked up at him, then stuck out your hand for his, realising only a few seconds later how dumb that was. 

Before you could pull your hand back, he reached out and clasped your hand in his own, wrapping his fingers around your distinctly smaller hand. “Goodbye… princess.” You heard the smirk in his voice, and you couldn’t help the chuckle and the eye roll again, not failing to notice the way his hand tightened involuntarily and then withdrew. 

You looked at Grogu in his other arm, who was still avoiding looking at the pair of you, wriggling in his father’s arms. You bent down to draw your face to his level and you stroked his ears, “I’ll miss you, little guy. Make sure to keep your dad on his toes, okay? You gotta make up for both of us now.” You pressed a kiss to the top of his head, feeling his little hand pat your cheek with a mournful noise. Tears burned the back of your eyes, so you leant back, instead picking up Duru so she could say goodbye. 

Grogu cooed sadly again, stroking Duru’s cheek, looking up at her with his glossy eyes. 

You let Duru but her head against him, chitter a goodbye and then you stepped back, allowing her to climb up your shoulders as you looked up at Mando. 

You just watched him for a moment, his armour reflecting the light on one side and then, with a soft inhale of courage, you turned and walked down the ramp, Duru padding at your feet. 

You had only just cleared the ramp, stepping onto the hard, compacted ground when Mando called out, “Wait.”

You turned quickly, hope blooming in your heart, in your expression though you tried to stop it. 

He had made a step onto the ramp, body poised like it was trying to run to you but he was holding back. He hesitated, almost as if he were torn with what to say – or what not to say, but all that came out was, “Ret'urcye mhi.”

You couldn’t help the shiver that licked down your spine, the way his voice turned into dripping honey when he spoke Mando’a. “What does that mean..?” You prayed he couldn’t hear the slight hoarseness to your tone.

He tilted his head down to look at Grogu, then lifted it back up to you, “It means goodbye…. And maybe we’ll meet again..” 

Your heart swelled a little, a flush of pain going through it but you smiled softer, your expression melting and you inclined your head slightly, “I would like that.. very much…” 

There were a million other things that threatened to roll off your tongue, pour from you but before they could, you turned around, walking toward the town and feeling his eyes on you the entire time, burning into the back of your head like a fiery brand. 

You were about 4 metres away when you heard Grogu start crying, when your own tears broke through and spilled down your cheeks. You kept walking, even when your vision began to blur and go fuzzy.

So you didn’t see the way Mando hugged Grogu closer, whispered, “I know, kid, I don’t want her to go either.”

You’d be okay. It would be fine. 

So you and the Mandalorian were parting. It was no big deal. You had helped each other; you had returned each other’s debts. You owed each other nothing. 

The sound of engines whirring filtered into your ears, and you waited until you heard the Crest lift from the ground before turning round. 

You paused, wiping your cheeks as the ship that had become a haven of sorts lifted into the sky. It hovered for a second, as if hesitating and then shot up higher, taking with it the two people that you had come to mean more to you than you realised. It felt like the Razor Crest had taken your heart with it. 

How comes you hadn’t realised before how much they meant?

Too late now.

You remained watching the sky, long after the ship had vanished into the atmosphere. 

With a shuddering breath, you wiped your cheeks. You kissed Duru’s tail, and then returned to walking toward the town. 

You’d be okay… right?

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[mando-chicken]

Dark Fives AU Timeline

The Dark Fives AU is an AU based on the concept of a force sensitive Fives. This will be a general overview of the draft timeline, it may be subject to change as I begin to develop the AU further, but it should give you a general idea of what happens.  

This took me so long to write oof, putting it under a read more to save your dash space!

To begin with, Fives didn’t really see himself as being any different to his other brothers. For the most part he just assumed that everyone had finely tuned senses, and thanks to a bit of a small attention span during his younger years he didn’t really notice when strange things happened.  

Items he’d placed in a certain location would move closer to him and he would just assume that he must have put it closer to himself than he’d originally thought, or he would anticipate something before it happened and just put it down as dumb luck or a funny coincidence. Echo was usually too buried in regs or whatever exercise they were completing to notice these small tells either.  

This advantage in skill over the other cadets was one of the many reasons their squad was fast tracked to their final test at a young age.   

His skills give him an edge during battle and later during ARC training, but for a long while his abilities remain largely dormant.

Fives, occasionally, unconsciously influences the emotions of his brothers when feeling a particularly strong emotion – when he was agitated about failing the test the first time his anger rubbed off onto Hevy and Echo who then began to fight – he’s entirely unaware when he’s doing it, but it seems to effect Echo the most prominently.

When Fives loses Echo his abilities cause almost the entire 501st to plunge into a deep sadness as a wave of depressing emotions crashes over them from Fives. The Jedi notice something is bothering their troops but can’t quite pinpoint it thanks to Fives withdrawing himself from everyone else for a while.  

It’s on Umbara when Fives finally cracks. After all the stress and horror that Krell put them all through he finds himself alone in one of the unused hangars, pacing and muttering angrily to himself. He’s worked himself up and when his emotions reach their peak he can’t help shouting, releasing all of his pent-up emotions at once.  

Everything surrounding him is suddenly all violently throw away from him in all directions and it’s like the floodgates have finally been opened. He can feel the force as it all pours into his mind for the first time, whispering, shouting, screaming at him all at once. His panic only makes things worse; his mind being filled with images, thoughts and feelings of brothers all throughout the galaxy.  

And he can feel them all dying.   

It isn’t until Rex decides to come looking for him almost half an hour later that he’s finally found. Everything within several meters of his person is floating in the air dangerously, but Rex only needs to take one look at the state his vod’ika is in to brave the danger. He’s shaking and finding it impossible to get down enough oxygen, begging for the horrible voices and feelings to get out of his head and leave him alone.  

Rex holds him for what feels like hours, struggling to get through to the distressed trooper and fearful of making the situation any worse than it already is. Eventually, however, Fives is exhausted from his panicking and begins to slowly drift off, calming slightly as he does so. It’s only then that Rex decides to call Kix to give him a once over and is able to get a somewhat shaky explanation.  

They decide that until they can completely confirm what is happening to Fives, they won’t speak to the Jedi, their trust too shaken after killing Krell earlier that very day.  

It becomes very difficult for Fives to hide his abilities after that – clones are used to expressing their emotions with one another, but due to having received no training on force abilities Fives finds almost anything can set off his abilities and it begins to become a bit of a hazard during battle.  

Deciding that he’s becoming a danger to his brothers, Fives begins to experiment with the force during his downtime in the hopes of being able to control his skills. Without instruction on how to use the force he finds himself getting easily frustrated by it, but as a result finds that getting agitated is perhaps the easiest way of getting the force to do as he wishes.  

When Tup attacks a Jedi, Fives senses what he’s going to do just before he does it, but it still unable to reach his brother in time. For a long while afterwards he blames himself for not reacting fast enough, despite all the training he’d been doing with his abilities.  

Much of the arc continues the same way as it is portrayed in the show, up until the final confrontation with the Coruscant Guard. Able to sense Fox’s intention to fire at him, Fives reaches out with the force, throwing back the approaching troopers into the side of the large crates behind them. While none of the Guard are seriously injured by his attack, they are rendered largely unconscious from the strength of the attack.  

Without the Guard to disrupt them, Fives is able to pass on all the information he’d learned from his time on Kamino and from the chancellor. Anakin is still highly skeptical, but with the convincing of Rex he’s willing to at least let them do a little investigating on their own.  

While Anakin and Rex inform the chancellor that Fives was killed during a shootout – alleging that his body was lost when it fell down a nearby shaft to the lower levels – Kix and Jesse are quick to escort their brother to a disused medical facility within the GAR where they can begin some tests. 

Finding the presence of the inhibitor chip is easy enough, but after a lengthy discussion they decide to allow Kix some time to study the chip and try to figure out just how it works. Anakin is very much interested in Fives’ force sensitivity, but unfortunately is unable to find the time to try and help the trooper hone his abilities, especially when the outer rim sieges begin.  

Unfortunately for Fives, he is barred from joining his brothers in battle and forced to remain back on Coruscant by himself, unable to leave certain areas in case he is discovered. During this alone time, he is able to channel his frustration into strengthening his abilities.  

When Echo is saved by Rex, Anakin and the Bad Batch he returns to Coruscant after being informed that Fives is still alive and the two of them are finally able to reunite.  

Anakin is more than angered when Kix later confirms their fears about just what the chips were intended for and he immediately gives the order for the 501st to have their chips removed as subtly as possible.  

When Anakin confronts Palpatine, he brings with him Rex, Fives and Echo (who insists he won’t let Fives go without him). Palpatine is all too happy to admit to everything, deciding that it’s time to try and turn Anakin to the dark side. For the most part he succeeds, but makes the mistake of insulting the gathered clones. What he wasn’t expecting was for one of them to practically throw him across the room with the force. He especially wasn’t expecting his loyal trooper, Fox, to draw his blaster and shoot him squarely through the back.  

Fox is loyal to the chancellor, but his loyalty is to the Republic first and foremost, and there’s no way he can allow someone who has openly admitted to manipulating both his brothers and both sides of the war. He’s never been so happy that people tend to forget his presence in the room.  

Skywalker takes over as chancellor, stating that it was Palpatine’s last act before he died after being gunned down by a ‘rogue bounty hunter’. With a little bit of Echo’s newfound computer skills, they’re able to come up with a flawless video that they show in place of the actual security footage that has already been erased and replaced.  

His first act as chancellor is to free all clones, offering them all rights as full Republic citizens and permanently ending all clone production, passing on the information about the chips to all medics in the GAR. The senate is in uproar over the decision, but there’s nothing they can do about it, Anakin has the entire clone army on his side.  

The Jedi, too, are upset by this development, but they are quickly outlawed and chased from Coruscant. Many of them die, but not as many as in the original purge. Cody assists Obi-wan in leaving Coruscant in secret, but refuses to leave his brothers behind and elects to stay with them in the GAR. During all the chaos the wolfpack and a large portion of the 104th are able to flee Coruscant with their Jedi and several younglings in tow – while no reported sightings are ever confirmed, it’s suspected that they’re all living together somewhere in the outer rim. Many other commanders and captains decide to leave the army, sneaking their Jedi out with them as they go.  

Without Dooku and Sidious to lead them and assist war efforts from behind the scenes the war is brought to a close, taking only a few months longer. The planets and systems that had defected from the Republic are brought back into the fold and quickly after the first Galactic Empire is formed.

The Kaminoans attempt to keep many of the young clones who are yet to be born, but Emperor Skywalker, who has recently become a father himself, refuses to allow these children to be kept as slaves and sends in his men to take them by force. Fives can’t recall a more glorious sight than watching Tipoca City burn, all his brothers safely by his side.  

Anakin takes on training Fives personally and within a few years he is anointed as the first member and leader of their new Imperial Inquisition. He trains force sensitive younglings to use their gifts and even manages to find a few fellow force sensitive brothers who quickly become a part of a tight knit group of fearsome enforcers of the Empire’s will.  

Rex and Cody share the burden of commanding the GAR, and Rex continues to serve as Anakin’s most trusted advisor. Cody on the other hand oversees the training of civillians who hope to join the GAR, ensuring that their skills are sharp enough to be considered for entry. It’s a hard job for them both, but they’re determined to ensure that standards are upkept for both the safety of the Empire and their brothers who chose to continue serving in the army.  

Echo works closely with the special forces, reporting directly to Rex, Cody, and occasionally Anakin. He meets up with the Bad Batch and they quickly become a formidable team and good friends. He of course returns back to Coruscant regularly to meet up with Fives and the two of them often exchange crazy stories from their work.  

[spell-cleaver]

Fanfic trope mash-up#5 Bar/Restaurant AU with Luke and Piett? Love your writing!

Thank you! :)

Prompts from this post.

Captain Firmus Piett of the SSD Executor had not had leave in fouryears.

After a particularly stressful incident on thebridge involving Lord Vader and two pit officers quietly discussing theattractiveness and eligibility of Imperial Prince Luke Skywalker, his nerveshad been a wreck. The shipboard medic had forcedhim to take at least a week’s breakwhile the Executor returned toCoruscant for the month-long Empire Day celebrations. He’d even gone so far asto have one of Piett’s aides confiscate his comlink, leaving him with only asmall, spare one in case of absolute, galaxy-altering emergencies.

Despite this unnecessary intervention, Piettwas almost grateful. Truth be told, he hadbeen skirting the edge of his mental limits recently, and one did not want tobe in the general vicinity of Darth Vader when they met said limits.

The dark lord had been exceptionally on edgefor the past few months, for reasons unknown to Piett. He had his suspicions,of course: after all, the exceptional tension had begun shortly after PrinceLuke had been announced as Palpatine’s official heir, and immediately after the first attempt on the boy’s life. As wildlyunrealistic and fanciful as it might seem, Piett had occasionally entertainedthe idea that Vader—who was well-known to be His Highness’s formal guardian andprotector—was worried.

It was absurd, of course. Not only was itnear-impossible for Rebel agents to get anywhere near to the heir to theEmpire, but the idea that Lord Vader could ever care about someone like that seemedludicrous.

Nevertheless, neither Piett’s theories norlogic changed the fact that the closer Empire Day came, the more agitated Vadergot. Prince Luke would be there, expected to give his first formal speech tothe entirety of the Empire, and Piett’s nerves would not be able to stand his panic.

So, here he was.

Piett had no family on Coruscant. He had noone to visit. He had plenty of money built up and unused from his years in theNavy, but nothing to do with it. He had few other place to go but the bar nearto the (overly fancy) hotel he was staying in for the month.

He had to admit, the alcohol and the knowledgethat when he woke up early, he could go back to sleep, did wonders for his stress levels. He could almost feel himselfstarting to relax.

He’d started to befriend some of the otherpatrons of the bar, as well as the bartender—it was one of the more reputableones; he had not, with all his money, decided to stay in an unpleasant area ofthe planet—so it was nearly always a thoroughly enjoyable experience to go inthe evenings. Listen to the chatter, pick up ideas for what places he shouldvisit the next day. Already he’d been to one zoo, another zoo, the famousgreenhouse and gardens, as well as a massive shopping mall which he’d managedto regularly lose himself in.

He was a week into his holiday, sitting atthe bar and conversing lightly with the bartender about the delights of acertain museum of natural wonders, when the bartender suddenly turned away fromhim to greet another customer, a smile on his face that somehow managed to beboth fond and over-eager at the same time.

Curious, Piett looked sidelong at thenewcomer. He was young—he looked to be barely of age. There was somethingfamiliar about the way he stood, the fall of blond hair across his face, andthe eyes slightly too large for his face. He glanced at Piett not quite shyly,but uncertainly, before returning the bartender’s smile and sliding into theseat beside him.

Piett waited for him to order a drink beforecommenting, “Have we met before? You look familiar.”

The boy’s nervousness evaporated as hesmiled. There was a quiet stillness, not unlike that of Lord Vader, about himas he said, “I’m afraid not, Mr…?”

“Piett,” he supplied. “CaptainFirmus Piett.”

The boy rose his eyebrows. “Of the Executor?”

“Yes.” How did he know that?

Slight apprehension flashed across the boy’sface, almost too fast to catch, but he answered Piett’s mental inquiry as ifhe’d said it aloud: “I’m interested in the doings of the ImperialStarfleet, and my father encourages me to follow it closely.”

“Of course.” Of course the boy wasfrom the Imperial Court—everything about his accent to the way he carriedhimself, sure and steady, implied some sort of inner nobility.

For a moment, Piett had the urge to cut theconversation short. He was an officer from the Outer Rim. He’d come this farbased on competence and, he had to admit, Lord Vader’s favour. He didn’t wantto get into some too-heavy conversation with the wrong influence at Court andaccidentally undo all of that hard work. Piett was an officer, not apolitician.

But the boy seemed earnest enough, andperhaps being rude to him would hurt Piett’s career even more.

He really didn’t know; he wasn’t used tothis.

“Are you staying in the area,Piett?” the boy asked casually as the bartender returned with his drink.He paid, and tipped extremely well; if this was a habit of his, Piett could seewhy the man had been so excited upon seeing him enter. “I’d have thoughtyou’d be on the Executor, preparingfor the Empire Day celebrations.”

“I’m on leave until they’re over.”At the boy’s questioning look, he elaborated, “There was an incident andthe medic forced me to rest, since apparently I was getting ill from stress. Iconceded eventually.”

The boy raised his glass. “Then you area wiser man than most, for knowing when to get out of Vader’s way.”

Vader’s way. Not LordVader’s way. Interesting—and, to Piett’s professional loyalty, a littleinsulting.

“What was the incident?” the boypressed on, almost as if he’d sensed Piett’s discomfort at his slip and soughtto distract him. Then— “Of course, you have no obligation to answer, I wasonly curious—”

“It’s nothing,” Piett said.“Some of my officers were speculating on Prince Luke’s love life and Vaderbecame… overprotective.”

The boy choked on his drink.

It took him a moment to recover, but when hedid all he could say was, “…I can imagine that.”

Piett paused, uncertain. There was somethingin that statement, an implied familiarity with the Lord Vader—specifically, afamiliarity with his protectivenessof His Highness.

Piett watched the boy’s features again,struck by that familiarity. It was getting stronger… and clearer… andthe image that emerged shocked him.

The boy pushed his drink away, stillhalf-full, and stood up. He glanced towards the door of the bar, as if hearingsome call no one else could, then back as Piett.

“Well,” he said evenly. “It’sbeen nice talking to you. If those officers you mentioned are still alive—andthey ought to be; my father and I have had wordsabout these thing—then you can tell them that there should be an announcementof marriage any day now. I’m afraid I can’t disclose who to.”

Piett choked on his drink, staring.

But the boy—the prince, Prince Luke—wasn’tlooking at him anymore. He was looking towards the doorway, now filled by a white-cladstormtrooper with the armour of the 501st legion.

The trooper stepped forward and saidpolitely, “Your Highness, your father orders that you return to the Palaceimmediately, and stop ‘avoiding court’.”

Prince Luke nodded, tactfully ignoring thelast part. “Very well, Sergeant. I’ll be on my way—”

“We’re to escort you there.”

Piett had never thought he’d be witness tothe Imperial Prince Luke Skywalker rolling his eyes, but it appeared life wasfull of surprises.

“Farewell, then, Admiral,” heconceded. “I have to be on my way, but I hope you and I meet againsometime. It’s been nice talking to you.”

“Likewise, Your Highness,” he saidautomatically, then, before he could stop himself, “but, it’s'Captain’.”

The prince paused. For a moment, he staredinto thin air, eyes glazed over. The sergeant didn’t even flinch; apparentlythis was a common occurrence.

“No,” Luke said, and the certaintyin his voice was chilling. “It’s not.”

With that, he left the bar.

Piett was shaken, but the other patronsseemed unfazed. Perhaps he was a frequent enough customer that the novelty hadworn off by now.

Piett, however, was another matter entirely.

His mind ran through everything the princehad said, all he’d learned, all the worldviews hat had now been radicallyaltered by one conversation.

At the end of it, he only had one thing tosay.

“Kriff.”

[atamascolily]

A Natural History of Tatooine, part 26/?

In which Luke returns to Obi-wan's hut, but it's kinda a letdown. Tor is undeterred, however. 

(Previous installments)

(Oh, and the lyrics of the "Correllian shanty" are actually based off a sonnet from Rainer Maria Rilke’s Book of Hours (II,2) that I am fond of.)

Luke leaned against the thick clay outer walls of Ben Kenobi's hut and pulled his knees up against his chest as he strove to remain in the rapidly dwindling patch of shade. It was only a few hours after first dawn, and the heat was already fierce. Mirages of imaginary water flickered out of the corner of his visions - an especially cruel illusion for foolhardy travelers caught wandering without appropriate precautions.

Stay-in-the-shadows was a game he'd played constantly as a child, whether by himself or in the company of a reprogrammed maintenance droid on the edges of the Lars family compound. Later, as a teenager, he'd indulged in a slightly more refined version, loitering outside the general store at Tosche Station with Camie and Biggs and whoever else was around.

He dug a finger idly through the sand, tracing out simple patterns, only to erase them upon completion. There was nothing else to do except sit and watch the desert and wait for Tor to finish the errand that had brought them here. And brood, of course.  

He'd spent a restless night in Brother Amaeo's carved enclave in Beggar's Canyon, tossing and turning for hours after an unsettling dream in which he'd was paralyzed while Cray/Callista was dragged away by Tuskens loose on the <i>Eye of Palpatine</i> and Mara hovered over his shoulder in silent disapproval. An hour of silent meditation and prayers before first dawn calmed him before he joined his companions for a simple breakfast on the balcony overlooking the canyon where they'd dined the night before. Then he and Tor descended to the canyon floor, back to where they'd left the <i>Destiny</i> the previous evening.

Much to her disappointment, there was no further sign of canyon krayts about.

"Trust me, you don't want to mess with one," Luke assured her.

"But a <i>dragon</i>--" she protested, and he waved her off.

True to Luke's predictions, the flight to Ben Kenobi's hut was uneventful to the point of boredom. Whoever had chased them yesterday had given up, and no other ships appeared on the sensors to challenge them. Still, he gave Anchorhead a wide berth, emerging out of the Canyon onto the Benzin Plateau, bypassing the flat, featureless expanse of the Great Chott in favor of the endless monotony of the Dune Sea.

Even so, it was hard not to get lost in the stories, the memories that rushed back at him as he navigated. He did his best to remain focused on the controls and the coordinates, and Tor, sensing his mood, did not interrupt him with conversation.

Ben Kenobi's hut was unchanged since his previous visit, just before the Battle of Endor: a white rounded adobe dome, perched on the edge of the Jundland Wastes, overlooking the vast expanse of the Dune Sea. In the desert, with no rain, such dwellings could last for centuries. Inside, it was still the same mess of sand drifts and rubble, picked apart by scavengers and the vagaries of the wind.

The last time he'd been here, he'd nearly collapsed in a feverish sea of memories and visions. He'd made it out to his speeder, and had somehow ended up in the remains of the Lars homestead and watched the twin dawns from the ridge above the family compound. He braced himself for a similar flood of emotions as he entered the room for the first time in ten years... only to be surprised at how little he felt at all.

There was nothing here for him now. He'd laid all his ghosts to rest a long time ago--including Ben--and they'd gone wherever ghosts went when they weren’t pestering the living. Ben might have given Luke his father's lightsaber in this house, but he hadn't left any tangible inheritance for his last apprentice.

Tor fell to digging through the sand drifts with gusto, but Luke had only been able to bear twenty minutes inside the hut before retreating outside to wait for her to finish whatever it was she thought she could accomplish here. He didn't know why Tor had seized on this mad assumption that Ben had hid uneti seeds on Tatooine, but maybe once she was satisfied that they weren't--

Actually, he wasn't sure what would happen then. He had no particular desire to return to Yavin and continue the practice period. Callista was out in the galaxy somewhere, and Mara was unlikely to return any time soon. Neither of them particularly wanted to see him at the moment--not that he could blame either of them, given how badly he'd screwed up.

Here he was, the great Luke Skywalker, war hero, Jedi master, famous and respected throughout the galaxy for his mighty powers and courageous deeds--and yet he'd trade it all to have them back with him a heartbeat. One of them. Both of them. Anything he could get.  

He could go to Coruscant, he decided. It would be good to see Leia and Han and the children again, and they would be happy to see him; no questions asked. It was easy to talk to Leia, the way it was easy to talk to Tor, and Han, too, though in a very different way. Both of them would understand what had happened with Callista and Mara, and they wouldn't judge him for it. He would be safe there, sheltered. He could go down to the mid-levels and get some decent pilo-noodles, too. And if Tor continued to let him pilot her ship, he didn't see how she could object to him deciding the course for once.

She'd been right about flying, though. He missed it. Staying ground-bound in the rainy season was chafing at him. All those years, and he was still that eager hotshot, always looking for the horizon, always reaching for what was just beyond his grasp. But she hadn't thought it was a <i>bad</i> thing, the way Yoda had.

What had she said to him last night? <i>"You just have to find a way to make it work, that's all."</i> What did that even mean?

Even in the shadows, it was still hot. The heat didn't bother him much, not anymore. It was hot; that was how things were here. You accepted it or cursed it, but it was easier if you accepted it as a given and moved on with your life as best you could. He hadn't known things could be different until he'd set foot on Yavin for the first time with Han and Leia, flush from their escape from the first Death Star. And what a whirlwind his life had been since...

Since then, he'd had a lot of practice being uncomfortable, enough so that a little heat wasn't a big deal. And here he was again, back where it had all began, more or less. So much had changed, and yet--

Something flickered on the edge of his vision, a break in the monotony. He turned, yanked the macrobinoculars out of the sack next to him and fiddled with the focus to zoom in on the spot in question.

Tuskens. Absolutely <i>no</i> mistaking them. Confused, puzzled, but no sign of agitation or attack--

And then they were gone.

Luke stared, his mind racing through the possibilities. He wasn't worried, exactly - but his last encounters with Tuskens kidnapped by the <i>Eye of Palpatine</i> had been very unpleasant, and the one before that - chasing Artoo down through the canyons with Threepio in tow - hadn't been much better. He couldn't say he was looking forward to more fights should it come down to that. Now that he was aware of their presence, he and Tor could avoid them.

He heard footsteps crunching on the gravel, and jerked the macrobinoculars down more quickly than he'd meant to, even though he knew it wasn't a Tusken who approached him.

"You all right?" Tor asked, slumping down beside him in what little shade remained.

"Sand People," he said to where he'd spotted them. "On the far side of the canyon over there, watching us. They're gone now."

"Should I be concerned?"

"I'm not," Luke said, and meant it. "They were checking us out, but it didn't seem like they meant any harm. I have a feeling that they believe this place is haunted, even though it's been twenty years since Ben lived here."

"That'll do it," Tor agreed. "How does it feel to be back after all this time?"

"It reminds me of the old Correllian shanty, 'Widening Circles'," Luke said. "You know it?"

"'I live my life in widening circles,'" Tor sang. "'Ones that reach out across the stars. I may not complete this last journey, but I surrender to it.... '"

Luke joined in on the chorus: "'Millennia come and go, and I still don't know - am I a falcon, a storm, or a great song?'"

Han was especially fond of that song, and he and Luke had sung it often during the dark, cold, awful days with the Rebellion, when comforts were few and far between. It was, Han explained one evening when they were fixing up the <i>Falcon</i>, the inspiration for the ship's name--only he'd had to explain to Luke what a falcon was. There wasn't anything like those swift-diving avians on Tatooine.

"That strange, huh?" Tor said, when they had finished.

"Are you surprised?"

"Not especially. You have this look about you when you're brooding," she said.

He had to smile at that. She never failed to call him out on it. "Maybe you can write a paper on Jedi social behaviors instead of uneti trees. Or anti-social behaviors, if you prefer. Speaking of which, did you find what you were looking for in there?"

She shook her head. "No. No sign of any seeds or any surviving material that would suggest they were ever here."

Luke resisted the strong temptation to say <i>I told you so</i>. "What about underground?" There were additional living quarters undergrown, spaces for growth tanks and 'vaporator parts and all the necessities for eking out a relatively self-sufficient existence on Tatooine. He'd never personally set foot in them, but he knew they were there.

"Nothing down there except a nest of hive-spiders and a pseudoscorpion, none of whom were especially pleased to have me intrude on their living quarters."

"So, what now?" he asked, as diplomatically as possible. "I was thinking maybe we could go to Cor--"

Tor cut him off before he could finish the thought. "We go on to where the trees are," she said, as if it were obvious.

He stared at her. "Just like that?"

"I didn't think there would be any seeds here," Tor said patiently, as if explaining the obvious. "I was sure he planted them. But this place was on the way, and I thought it reasonable to check to make sure."

"What makes you think he planted them?" Luke asked.

The whole thing had the makings of a conspiracy theory, and he didn't understand it. He knew she loved the uneti trees, was determined to bring them back from their near-extinction--that was why he'd enlisted her help at the Academy, after all--but he wasn't sure why she had fixated so much on the idea of Obi-wan Kenobi establishing a population after the fall of the Old Republic. On <i>Tatooine</i>, of all places.

She was quiet for a while. "Call it a hunch," she said at last. "I know what it's like to be in exile, without any hope of return. I know what it's like to be entrusted with something important. He brought the seeds here, and he couldn't keep them in storage for twenty years if he wanted them to stay viable; he had to grow them out somewhere. That much I know for certain. The only question is if I'm right about <i>where</i> he planted them."

"You think so?" Luke was skeptical, but figured they might as well go and see, since they'd come this far.

And it wasn't like he had anything else more pressing on his schedule anymore.

"Shall we go and find out?" She rose to her feet, reached out a hand to him.

'<i>I live my life in widening circles, ones that reach out across the stars. I may not complete this last, but I surrender to it</i>--'

He accepted her hand, let her help him up. "Yes."