#theron shan/smuggler | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

greyias · 2 years ago

Note

I wish you would write a fic where... Theron somehow amasses a following of actual, physical porn bots droids and shenanigans ensue

I saw this prompt come in and devolved into a fit of heinous cackling. How, oh how could I resist trying to render our collective Tumblr nightmare into fictional text form?

Context: While not required reading, this is technically a sequel to this stunning crackfic, authored so long ago. If you need a refresher on the Medical Droid Love Triangle Saga, follow this link. Or this one, which is the real villain origin story of this fic. Or don't, you're already cursed if you click beyond the read more of this post.

With special thanks to @grumpyhedgehog, @sandwyrm, @storyknitter, @kitsonpaws, and @andveryginger for providing me with ideas, cursed pornbot summaries, and many cursed HoloNet websites that should never exist. You are not required to read any of this.

Technically rated T, but in reality rated N for Nobody, because no one should have to read this. I'm packing my bags, as my ride to superhell just came. Enjoy.

It had started as such a normal day -- if you could indeed have called any day on Odessen “normal”. What with the galaxy always being at the brink of some disaster or another, and their merry little band of misfits being led by the galaxy’s most notorious do-gooder, Theron’s schedule and to-do list had a tendency to get derailed on almost a daily basis.

This, however, was not how that usually happened.

He’d paused, mid-step, finger still hovering over his datapad, mid-entry as the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, slowly dawning horror washing over him. His head turned slowly, like one of those doomed characters in a horror holofilm to look at the droid he’d just passed.

It was one of the new ones that had come in on a recent shipment. So new in fact, that there was still a fleet of them in the middle of being unpacked in the Logistics Wing. Shining, tall and blue, its highly polished quadranium head pivoted to look back at him.

“What,” Theron swallowed, willing his voice to sound even and not give in to the creeping dread, “what did you say?”

“Theron Shan,” the droid repeated helpfully, “is a master lover.”

“Oh no.” The words slipped out of their own accord.

“Just a moment, sir,” the droid continued, seemingly oblivious to the human’s distress, “I’m not quite done with your evaluation yet. Let’s see, where were we?”

“No no no no.”

The round flattened dome that served as its head tilted to one side, beady orange eyes sweeping over Theron from head to toe, before resuming its cheery, if horrifying report. “Subject is an exemplary specimen. In good cardiovascular health, above average muscle tone. Tall, well-built, and very clean...”

“Um,” Theron stammered. “I’m...” Flattered? Taken? Leaving? Wait--yes, that last one. “Going now!”

He didn’t give the cursed machine any more time to continue ogling him, instead taking off down the hall at a very brisk walk that nearly bordered on a jog. His mind raced at he beat a hasty retreat, trying to understand what was happening. It had been over a year since the The Incident, dubbed by some as the “Sexy Spy Virus”, and others by much more crude names, where a little harmless reprogramming had taken on a life of its own. Theron had been meticulous in his coding of the antivirus, wanting to ensure that the entire debacle would be forgotten. There was simply no way that it could crop back in on its own.

“Theron,” the brisk accented tone of one Lana Beniko burst in over his comm, “why did a droid just feel the need to inform me that they found rust on its insides during its last tune-up?”

“I don’t know,” Theron insisted, but his words were almost drowned out by a metallic clanking echoing down the corridor.

He threw a look over his shoulder, and to his horror, saw that his robotic admirer had decided to give chase.

“I’m going to have to call you back,” he quickly said into the comm as the droid picked up speed from a walk to an all out gallop.

“Theron,” she sounded both concerned and exasperated, which, considering Lana, was about par the course, “what’s going on?”

“Save me!” He shouted as he took off a dead sprint.

In his many years in the field, Theron had been threatened, sure. Shot at? Many times. He’d been drugged. Tortured. Stabbed through the gut with a lightsaber pike and lived to tell the tale. He’d run into Sith, Revanites, bounty hunters, thugs, fanatics and cultists alike. He’d been in more firefights than he could remember, and more covert ops than he cared to. He’d even been accused of being a traitor (although that was kind of the point at the time).

None of that compared right now to being chased down by a droid yelling at top volume claiming he was the best lover it had ever seen.

And this time, he was pretty sure it wasn’t actually his fault.

He rounded the corner from the corridor leading from the Logistics Wing, passing by the Commander’s (and at this point, his) Quarters. HK-55 and Z0-0M straightened to their full height at his arrival. Oh thank the Force, allies.

“Salutations: Agent Shan, you are looking quite spry today.”

“What?” he panted as he approached.

“Yes, Agent Shan, don’t believe what anyone else is saying!” Zeeyo exclaimed, throwing her arms into the air. “Your undercarriage doesn’t look rusty at all!”

Mind sharp as a tack, Theron realized the implications of this just in time, and dodged to the side, ducking and rolling as the assassin-turned-bodyguard droid lunged forward to trap him in a bear hug. Not pausing to even catch his breath, as soon as his feet hit the ground he propelled himself forward and further down the hall.

“Frustration: I only wish to profess my admiration for you, Agent Shan!”

“Nope nope nope nope!” Desperation was starting to tinge the edges of his words now.

The metallic clanking intensified as more droids behind him joined in the chase, all of their vocabulators joining in unison to tell him in one way, or another, that he was in fact, the pinnacle of sexual prowess.

Theron couldn’t run forever, despite whatever their programming was forcing them to say, his stamina would give out before the lustftul droids’ power supplies. As the corridor zigged and twisted, he saw an opening in the form of a door sliding open. Without hesitation he dove in, shoving the individual there, thankfully made of flesh and bone, aside as he slammed the door controls.

The door slid securely shut just as the thunderous clanking filled the corridor beyond, their lustful words of appreciation and encouragement nearly drowned out by the racket. Theron hadn’t bothered to look or count, but he was pretty sure that the number had risen from three in the scant moments it had taken Theron to dart from one corridor to the next.

He held up a hand to his lips as he turned to thank the person who had unwittingly provided his temporary salvation. The words of gratitude died on his lips, as he realized exactly who’s room he had sought refuge in.

For a moment, Theron truly considered surrendering himself to the lusty droid mob.

Draike Highwind’s face was caught somewhere between confusion and amusement, but the latter was winning out as he started to decipher individual phrases drifting in from the corridor. A dark brow arched higher, lips twitching with undisguised mirth as the stupid blue droid that had started this whole mess yelled once again about Theron being a master lover.

More seconds passed, the ruckus quieting down, before silence descended once more, and it was finally safe to speak.

“So,” Draike drew out the word, somehow lacing it with more innuendo than all of the malfunctioning droids combined, “what ya been doing, Shan?”

“Nothing!” he insisted, voice still hushed just in case one of the droids could somehow hear.

“Doesn’t sound like nothing.” His brother-in-law’s smirk widened into an almost feral grin, eyebrows waggling. “Sounds like you’ve been getting... busy.”

One of the greatest mysteries in the galaxy was how one man could make anything sound that dirty. “I was minding my own business!”

“Oh, I bet you were.”

“You’re having way too much fun with this.”

“I mean...” If looks could kill, the pilot would have melted on the spot. Unfortunately for Theron, Draike was apparently immune to that sort of thing. “How often do I get the chance?”

“Did you do this?”

“Me?” Draike let out a sharp bark of laughter. “Stars, I wish I could have thought of something this good! These are memories I will cherish forever.”

Theron massaged the bridge of his nose. “I hate my life.”

“I mean, I’m not really into droids,” Draike went on, either not knowing (or more likely caring) about his brother-in-law’s predicament, “flesh is more my kind of thing. But you know, if you and the little lady need to spice things up by bringing in a little metal--”

“Please stop. I’m begging you!”

“Begging, eh? So you’re saying you’re more into--“

“Forget it, I’m taking my chances with the sex-crazed machines roaming the halls.” His palm hovered over the door sensors.

“Theron, wait!” There was enough urgency in Draike’s voice to give him pause. “It’s dangerous out there, take this.”

At first, he was honestly afraid to look, expecting to be offered something like a condom or some other bad joke, but was surprised to see the other man holding out a stealth generator.

“To escape your fans.”

“That’s actually not a bad idea.”

“I know. I’m a genius.”

“I didn’t say that.” He quickly nabbed the stealth generator before Draike could change his mind and frowned at the initials carved in the side in Aurabesh. “Is this even yours?”

“Eh, close enough.”

Whatever, beggars couldn’t be choosers. Theron would deal with those potential repercussions later. He flicked on the power to the stealth generator which let out a low, almost inaudible hum as a burst of life engulfed his form. He closed his eyes against the sudden burst of brightness, and when he opened them again, dark spots of the light pattern danced in his vision for a few seconds. He blinked a few more times before they faded away.

He waved an arm experimentally in front of his face, and only felt the slight movement of air. Draike didn’t seem to react at all, and that was probably good enough.

“Thanks,” he said, palming the sensor to the door.

Draike rolled his eyes and ambled out into the corridor, looking around with the air of a man all too used to hiding from those looking for him. Theron watched as he raised a hand to a very slowly moving GNK power droid.

“How’s it hanging?”

“GONK!”

“Oh yeah? You don’t say! I think I saw him head that way.” Draike pointed in the direction leading to cantina. “Just between you and me, I heard he’s sweet on that droid who’s a comfort enthusiast.”

“GONK! GONK! GONK!”

Still hidden underneath the stealth field, Theron had to bite down the urge to make any noise of frustration and just turned an invisible, irritated gaze at the other man’s back. As if sensing Theron’s irritation, Draike just grinned wider.

“Yeah, you know how those spy types are. Always toying with droids’ hearts. You could do better than him.”

“GONK!”

“Oh, you spicy droid! Yeah, trundle off that way, big guy. I’m sure you’ll catch him!”

With a loud clanking, the GNK droid began his slow and steady journey towards the cantina. As the echoes finally faded, Draike casually stretched, pointing towards the direction of the War Room.

Theron skulked on by, but not before giving his brother-in-law a well deserved whop upside the head. The stealth field flickered momentarily on the physical contact before shimmering back into place.

“It’d serve you right to get caught by doing that,” Draike sniffed indignantly, “after all I’ve done to help you.”

“When all of this is over--”

“Hush now,” Draike waved at the air in front of him. “You have bigger problems to deal with. Meanwhile, I will be heading to the cantina. And definitely won’t be live-streaming any brawls breaking out over the Master Lover breaking droid hearts everywhere.”

Theron snorted out an annoyed breath, and checked his urge to trip Draike as he sauntered off, hands jammed into his pockets as he whistled a jaunty tune. Like the purloined stealth generator, he’d have to worry about slicing and corrupting any servers containing evidence of this mess after he figured out how to stop whatever this was from spreading any further.

The upside to this whole unfortunate side encounter, was that the stealth generator made it possible for him to quietly creep around any droids he passed in the corridor. Most seemed to be making a hasty exit for the cantina, almost as if word had spread of Drake’s false rumor about his and C2-N2’s torrid love affair and every heartbroken circuit was flocking in that direction now.

And when he thought about it like that, when exactly had this become his life? Oh, right. Like fifteen minutes ago. Or however long this nightmare had started. Time had sort of lost meaning, if he were being honest.

He managed to make it to the war room, undetected and unmolested, and quietly snuck his way towards the irritable blonde Sith, holding her head in her hands as if she were battling the world’s strongest migraine. As Theron approached the Sith, he could hear her muttering under her breath in frustration. He hesitated for a moment before clearing his throat, causing her to jerk her head up in surprise.

“Who’s there?”

“Quiet,” Theron hissed. “They might hear you.”

“Oh, for Sith’s sake,” she exhaled, “where in the blazes have you been?”

“Hiding,” he whispered urgently. “These droids have all gone haywire!”

“And who’s fault is that, I wonder.”

“Not me,” he insisted, “not this time!”

“Right,” she said sardonically, “and I suppose that’s why there isn’t a reality holoseries entitled ‘Programmed for Love’ currently being live-streamed in the cantina for the entire HoloNet to see.”

“Damn it, Draike!” Theron cursed. “I thought he was joking about that.”

“Of course. How did I not see that coming?” she muttered.

“I’ll slice in and scrub all of the servers after we figure out this... this... whatever this is?”

“Your insecurities laid bare in binary?” she suggested, oh so helpfully.

“Why did I come to you for help again?”

“Because--”

It was at that point, that a probe droid, currently speeding its way towards the cantina, happened to take notice of Lana talking to thin air, and veered off its intended trajectory, heading straight for Theron’s position near the back of the war room. If the loud alarms and flashing lights were any indication, it had been able to see through his stealth generator.

Wait... those weren’t alarm proximities it was flashing. As Theron watched its rapid approach, he couldn’t help but stare at it in dumb fascination, brow furrowing as he tried to make out the images it was projecting. If he didn’t know better, he’d almost say it was a bizarre mixture of Aurabesh and hologlyphs.

He squinted, just able to make out: “DX-98 🤖🔥 Analytical Scanner 💋🙏 Okara Droid Factory 🔍🌌💕 Exobiology Research 🥵🍑 Top HoloFans 0.7%!”

Before he had a chance to process any of that, the droid was already upon him, pincher arms spreading wide to snap him up for some purpose far beyond its original programming. He only had milliseconds to react before the droid reached him, when an explosive force sent the droid flying backwards harmlessly, and had Theron landing ungracefully on his tailbone. The stealth field fizzled out with a pop on his impact with the ground.

A familiar figure landed between him and the droid, twin blue scarves billowing behind her dramatically, blonde ponytail swaying with the motion of her movement. A small frown of concentration bunched her forehead as his wife threw a concerned look in his direction.

“You requested rescue?” Grey asked.

“Ah, my knight in shining armor has arrived,” he quipped back.

“I am not wearing my armor.” The frown of concentration morphed into one of confusion.

“I--never mind.” He pushed himself to his feet, dusting off his hands. “Thank you for the timely intervention.”

She graced him with a hint of a smile and a bob of her head in acknowledgment. “Any time.”

“As touching as all of this is,” Lana broke in sourly, “it still doesn’t solve our larger problem.”

“Yeah,” Theron rubbed the back of his neck, “you’re not wrong. It sounds like this has spread across the entire base?”

“It appears that way,” Lana said tightly. “You know, you assured me that all of this had been taken care of the last time we dealt with this issue.”

“Hey now,” he bit back, “I’m a man of my word!”

She snorted at that. “Tell that to the Umbaran Transit Authority.”

“How are you still mad about that?”

“You tazed me!”

“Focus,” Grey said, eyeing the stunned probe droid warily. “If memory serves me correct, you had a program you deployed to revert the programming of the droids the last time this happened.”

“Yes, that’s what doesn’t make sense.” He watched as the holoprojectors on the downed probe droid flickered, hologlyphs flashing rapidly in the War Room’s dim light. “I programmed it to eliminate all trace of the offending code. The only way it could be reappearing now is if someone took one of the infected droids offline before I deployed...”

Lana arrived at the same conclusion right about the time that Theron did, picking up the thought. “I seem to recall a certain someone requesting you replicate your work for less-than-legal purposes.”

Theron angrily punched the button on his comm as he growled, “Gault!”

The Devaronian’s voice came back immediately, almost a little too suave. “Theron! What a surprise to hear your dulcet tones requesting my presence.”

“Gault,” Lana managed to keep some measure of calm, “are you responsible for this current situation?”

“What situation is that?” he asked far too innocently, even as a distant call of a droid’s clanking nearly drowned out it’s loud declaration of the presence of rust on one Theron Shan’s “bolt”. There was a moment of silence before he continued. “Oh! You mean the lustful droids currently running amok on the base?”

“I’m glad we’re on the same page,” Lana said dryly. “My original question stands.”

“I am shocked, shocked and scandalized that my name would be the first to come to mind! Might I remind you, it was one Miss Djannis who requested you create her a Shan Sexbot.”

“Yeah,” Kaliyo jumped in on the comms, clearly annoyed, the sound of metallic brawling nearly drowning out her voice, “I wanted it for hilarious crimes! Not whatever the fuck this is!”

“Gault,” a third voice, Hylo Visz, cut in. From the background noise, it seemed she was in the same location as Kaliyo. “I swear, if you don’t help us figure out how to stop this, when you’re not looking I’ll cut off your--”

“Okay, okay, geez!” He interrupted before his significant other could finish whatever that threat was. “Fine, it was me! I deactivated a droid before Theron uploaded his program.”

“Of course.” Lana rolled her eyes upwards, as if asking the Force for patience.

“In my defense,” Gault continued, “originally it was just to shut the stupid thing up! But then Kaliyo came up with that brilliant idea for the Shan Sexbot Distraction, and I thought, why not hold on to this beauty in case it came in handy for a con?”

The sound of Theron smacking his forehead in frustration echoed throughout the War Room.

“So you know, just had a fun idea come to me the other day, so I extracted the original programming and altered a few things, and tried to put it into a new droid for my plan.”

“Did that droid happen to be a blue medical monstrosity?” Theron was actively massaging his temples at this point.

“I will have you know,” Gault said, “that BL-U3 is a consummate professional. You would be lucky to have him perform a medical exam on you!”

“Yeah, that was definitely his intent,” Theron shot back. “Purely professional and not lecherous at all! Which was not in any of my code.”

“Hey, I never claimed to be very talented when it came to software programming. I may have made a mistake or two when altering your code.”

“May have?!”

“How was I supposed to know that the remnants of the Gemini Frequency code in our systems was going to work after the entire Eternal Fleet had gone offline and deploy your software STD to the entire network? Sue me!”

“I’m considering it!”

Before the mostly pointless argument could escalate any further, the sounds of metallic clanking from above, roughly from the location of the cantina, began to grow closer, the cacophony increasing in volume, until it sounded like it was coming in all directions.

“That is not a good sign,” Grey’s mutter was nearly lost to the noise.

“Hey,” Drake’s annoyed voice cut in over the comm, “my livestream is now officially ruined! I hope you’re all happy!”

“I’m afraid to even ask why,” Theron said.

“Oh, it seems all of my extremely eligible and single contestants heard your voice over the comms and abandoned challenging Seetoo Enntoo to unarmed droid combat for the right to court you, and are now all headed in your direction.”

“Oops.”

“Worry not Agent Shan,” the unusually warbly vocabulator of C2-N2 came over the comms, “I will not rest until I alone can provide you with the ultimate in comfort!”

“We should probably get a different housekeeping droid after this is all over,” he told his wife.

That seemed a lesser concern to Grey, as she had shifted into Alliance Commander mode, and was currently on the comms, shouting for every available member of the Force Enclave to get to the War Room as fast as possible to help hold off the incoming army of lustful droids.

Yeah, come to think of it, that was probably more important.

“We must use nonlethal force,” she stressed, giving a particularly severe look to Lana when she said that, getting a simple nonplussed shrug in return, “as we only need to hold the droids at bay until we can come up with a solution. They are not to blame for what’s happening.”

Theron begged to differ, but she was probably right in this case. The cost of repairing or replacing an entire base full of droids would be astronomical.

As Force users began to stream in and take up position around the room, the sound of wheels racing along the metal plating caught Theron's attention, and he looked over to see a familiar silver T7-series astromech racing into the room. He tensed up instinctively at the sight of a droid, as anyone would have in his situation.

“Teeseven!” Grey called out with a smile, clearly not as wary or droidshy.

The little astromech let out a friendly whistle and series of chirps in binary, that roughly translated to: “T7-01 = Safe! // Been off network entire morning!”

“Oh, what a relief,” she breathed, “I would have hated for you to be infected with this too!”

He let out another series of beeps: “T7-01 = still in possession of original antivirus code. // Can tweak it and upload to servers = Save the day?”

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” Theron muttered.

“T7 = not scared!”

Grey’s expression melted into one of admiration and pride. “Teeseven, that’s incredibly brave -- but are you sure? Theron’s right, it could be very dangerous.”

“T7 = Jedi + Theron’s friend. // Helping > Risk!”

She looked at him and he returned the gaze with a small nod, realizing there wasn’t much in the way of choice. It was either that or let the droids overrun them. And then whatever happened when one of them actually got their hands on on Theron -- a prospect he wasn’t really that thrilled to explore right now.

“Fine,” he said tersely, “let’s do this!”

The two of them rushed over to the center console in the room, Theron pulling out his slicer spike as Teeseven plugged his scomplink arm into the main network terminal. The rest of their reinforcements from the Force Enclave arrived just in time and formed a ring around the two slicers. They managed to erect a large Force barrier just as the metallic clanging and clatter grew to a roar, announcing the arrival of the lecherous horde.

Near the front of the mob, Z0-0M threw up her arms in glee and excitement as she jumped to try and catch sight of her beloved. “There you are Agent Shan! You left before we could finish our conversation -- you were saying something about oxidation?”

“Interjection: Do not listen to this hussy, Theron! You and I will make sweet explosions together!”

Theron valiantly tuned them out as he took in a feed of the original antivirus code that Teeseven shared with him. Yes, this all looked correct. Unfortunately, he was going to need get a look to see how Gault had mutilated his beautiful original coding to know how to alter it.

Teeseven was two steps ahead of him, and a stream of code flashed across the HUD in his ocular implants. He watched in horror as he saw the butchery with his own two eyes.

“Gault, where the hell did you get this code?” he asked over the comms incredulously. “HornHub?”

“Excuse you, I only frequent the classiest places on the galactic communications grid, like HoloHump!” The growl of Gault’s name from a very angry Mirialan smuggler had him quickly adding. “You know, I’m just going to shut up and let you concentrate on what you’re doing.”

Teeseven, ever the valiant worker, ignored the conversation completely, and was hard at work running diagnostics on the altered code and the best way to modify the antivirus to address it. Theron watched the stream of letters and numbers fly across the HUD at lightning speed.

The little guy was good at what he did. He let out a flurry of beeps and whistles as almost the last piece of this very lurid puzzle started to fall into place. The little droid seemed to almost be singing along with the code as he wrote it, like a mechanical maestro conducting an orchestra. They were close, so close and--

The next whistle Teeseven let out was not his normal, cheerful way of communication, much lower in timbre and more seductive.

No.

Teeseven whirled his flat head around until his visual sensor faced Theron, and let out another wolf whistle, his holoprojector lighting up to proudly display: T7-01 🤖👀🔍 Observant 👁️🔭 Scanner 🔍🏞️ Tython 🌄👏 215 🍒♎ Repairing 👅🙈 Top HoloFans 3.6%

“What was that?” Grey shouted to be heard over the droids catcalling.

“No no no no,” Theron muttered, “we’re so close! Don’t do this to me, little buddy!”

“What happened to my precious baby boy?” Grey demanded, sweat trickling down the side of her face as she struggled to maintain the Force barrier.

Beyond the barrier, the rest of the porndroid army followed suit with Teeseven, all either wildly projecting their own series of hologlyphs and random facts about themselves and their planets of origins, while others struck disturbingly seductive poses, and a scant few demanded that “ShanDaddy” start a holocall with them in private.

With no time and no recourse left, Theron dove back into the system, yanking Teeseven’s unfinished code as he was nearly overwhelmed with lewd images and thirsty hologlyphs, struggling to finish and upload the code as the volume in the War Room rose to a crescendo just as the Force users’ began to fall, one after the other, their barrier weakening by the moment.

The overwhelming cacophony of hologlyphs, lewd poses, and robotic come-ons that had filled the War Room suddenly disappeared. All eyes turned to the droids as almost in unison, as they all powered down—a sign that their malware had been neutralized. Theron slumped back in relief, his work finally done.

Grey, Lana, and the others let out a long sigh of relief, the tension leaving their bodies in a rush.

“Thank the Force,” Grey murmured, sinking down to the ground. “I do not think I could have held that barrier much longer.”

Theron nodded, feeling a similar sense of exhaustion. He leaned back against the console, closing his eyes but was unable to banish the mentally scarring series of images that were probably permanently burned into his retinas.

“Remind me,” he said faintly, “to obliterate HoloHump’s servers. Once I’m done murdering Gault.”

“You act as if there will be anything left after I find him,” Lana said darkly.

“Remember everyone,” Grey spoke in her best and most official Alliance Commander voice, “murder is bad and frowned upon in the Official Alliance Employee Handbook.”

“Query: Why are we all in the War Room?” HK-55 asked as he came back online. “And more importantly, why is that blue meddroid manipulating its medical instruments into a heart shape, as if expressing affection towards the Commander?”

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serenxanthe · 6 months ago

Text

The Smuggler: A SWTOR Story

I played Smuggler for the first time recently, and I played her as chaotic good, making light-side choices, but also basically cheating on Corso (who she wouldn't commit to) with literally everyone she met. I decided she needed to have a bit part in my Sith Warrior turned Jedi Knight's story, so I decided to drop her like a bomb into two nights out on Nar Shaddaa and Odessen. This is very unserious but I kind of love it.

As Seren entered the cantina on Odessen she saw Hylo waving from her table. She waved back then headed to the bar to grab a drink. As she approached Hylo’s table with her glass of wine the redhead sitting with her laughed loudly. Seren frowned, that laugh was familiar, but she didn’t quite remember why. She squinted at the back of the other woman’s head. Shocking bright orange curls pushed back with a cybernetic headset. The skimpy backless top, the long skin-tight gloves… No. Was that..?

Tindra Sterlas turned to regard her as she approached, smirking as she noticed the consternation on her face.

“Hey there, Seren.” she greeted her, looking her up and down as she did so.

Seren suddenly wished that she was wearing something other than cropped leggings and a loose sleeveless top; that she’d applied her cosmetics more carefully this morning; that the ends of her braids weren’t fluffy from where she’d dipped them in baby sick, then hastily washed them in hand soap.

“Seren?” Hylo queried, “Do you two know each other?”

“Kinda.” Tindra said, still smirking.

She turned back to Seren. “You gonna throw me across the room again?”

Seren finally found her voice. “That depends.” she said, and was gratified that at least she sounded calm and collected. “Are you going to sit on Theron’s lap and push your boobs into his face again?”

“WHAT?”

Hylo’s shriek went unnoticed by the other women, focussed as they were on each other, but drew Gault, Vette, and Kaliyo as curious onlookers. Of the three only Vette recognised Tindra. She grabbed Seren’s arm.

“Oh no. No. Don’t throw her! People are watching, Commander.”

Seren looked at her friend. “Like I said, I have no intention of throwing anyone across the room. Assuming she doesn’t straddle Theron.”

Tindra laughed. “Hey, if I thought for one second I’d ever see that guy again, I wouldn’t rule it out! It’s been a while since I hooked up with anyone, and I still remember his big…” she trailed to a halt as Hylo, Gault, and Vette drew back from Seren, looking nervous.

“No, no, don’t stop.” Kaliyo said to Tindra, “I wanna hear this.” She turned to Seren, “You been holding out on me, girl? Why did I not know about his big…”

“Why would you need to know?” Seren hissed at her, completely unamused.

Tindra was frowning in confusion. “Hold on a second… You’re not telling me that Theron is here? And that you guys are still together?!”

“Yes, and yes.” Seren told her flatly.

“But that was, like, ten years ago!” Tindra said, astonished.

“Fifteen.” Seren corrected her.

“But… why?” Tindra asked, still astonished. “I mean, aren’t you bored of each other by now?”

Seren opened her mouth to answer, but none other than Theron appeared at her elbow, seeming panicked.

“Seren, you need to look at Astrid, I think she’s falling to the dark side.” he said without preamble, not even glancing at the rest of the table. He thrust Astrid at her and looked at her anxiously.

“Theron, she’s six months old. Babies do not fall to the dark side.” Seren peered into her daughter’s eyes; golden like Theron’s, and all the more startling set in her own pale pinkish skin.

“Yeah? How sure are you?” Theron said, still sounding panicky. “All I know is Scourge babysat her this afternoon then she threw her toy at my head using the Force!”

Seren jiggled Astrid up and down and she gurgled happily, like a standard issue baby. “Noooo, I don’t think so, Theron, she’s too young. She must have knocked the toy upwards somehow, flailing her little arms around?”

“I’m telling you! I…” He stopped, suddenly remembering that they had an audience.

“Uh huh, I get it now.” Tindra said, satisfaction in her voice. “Kids. It’s always the way. Corso’s settled down on a farm on Dantooine with a little wife and five of ‘em.”

“Tindra?” Theron said in astonishment. “What are you doing here?”

“Er, new recruit.” Hylo interjected. “If uh that’s ok with you guys?”

“Theron and I are not together because of the baby!” Seren said angrily to Tindra instead of answering Hylo.

“Nah,” Kaliyo drawled, “sounds like there’s other good reasons anyhow.”

Theron shifted uncomfortably as the rattataki looked him up and down slowly, a suggestive smile on her face, her gaze lingering on his crotch for a disturbingly long moment. He sat down on a free stool, tucking the lower part of his body safely under the table.

“So um, Seren, you’re not thinking of… y’know?” Theron mimed pushing at the air.

“No!” Seren said impatiently, “Why does everyone keep asking that? I did it once!”

Theron put his arm around her, and Seren stopped scowling at Tindra and Kaliyo, relaxing as she met his eyes. They smiled at each other, the rest of the world fading into the background.

Kaliyo gave an exaggerated yawn, “Ugh, back to business as usual for you two then. It was almost exciting for a minute.”

Seren rolled her eyes. “I’m so sorry to disappoint you Kaliyo, you know I live to entertain you.” she said. She was smiling however.

Kaliyo huffed to herself, but then cheered up when she remembered she could still make hilarious trouble given the present company at the table. “So,” she began, looking at Theron. “You and the redhead?”

“The redhead has a name, princess.” Tindra interjected testily.

Kaliyo shrugged, “Whatever.” She poked Theron’s shoulder and he gritted his teeth. “Spill, spy-boy.” she told him.

“Fine. Tindra and I dated when we were teenagers. The end.” Theron said.

“Ugh. Still boring.” Kaliyo sighed. “I guess that was well before you and the Commander met?”

Theron reached out to take a slug of his whisky, before realising with disappointment that he didn’t have one. They’d agreed that he would stay in and look after Astrid while Seren socialised in the cantina tonight. Somehow he’d now brought his baby on a very concerning night out. The least he could do was take her back from Seren so she could relax, he guessed. Theron shifted his stool back to free up his lap for the baby and Kaliyo pointedly stared at his crotch again, grinning at his outraged expression. He lifted Astrid out of Seren’s arms into his own. Seren smiled at him gratefully and drank some of her wine now that her hands were free.

“Yeah, well before.” Theron eventually answered, “And thanks for asking, Kaliyo.” He said sarcastically.

“No problem.” Kaliyo smirked at him, pleased that at least she’d rattled him.

“Hold on a second.” Gault broke off from a vehement looking argument that he and Hylo had been having under their breaths across the table. “If this was all ‘well before’ you met the Commander, how come she threw Tindra here across the room?”

“I told you to leave it.” Hylo hissed at Gault furiously.

Tindra stretched, arching her back and rolling her shoulders back to loosen the muscles, coincidentally emphasising her breasts in her tiny crop top.

“Theron and I weren’t exactly dating, as he put it.” Tindra told the group. “We were just swoop rivals, then kinda friends, then friends who fucked, a lot.”

“And thanks for clearing that up, Tindra.” Theron said, his face flushing. He covered Astrid’s tiny ears as she sat gurgling happily on his lap.

“No problem!” she said to him, “Do you remember that time we both missed the semis of that circuit because we were…”

Seren was finding it much easier to stay calm now that she realised that Tindra was very obviously baiting her to get a reaction. “Are you going to answer Gault’s question, or shall I?” she interrupted to ask Tindra, her voice even.

“I was just getting to that.” Tindra replied to Seren, then addressed the group again. “Imagine you’re happily fucking your best buddy for a couple of years, travelling around, winning big on the swoop circuits, having fun, then BAM! He ups and leaves you without a word. I was nineteen and stuck on Manaan, I mean Manaan of all places!”

“Classy.” Kaliyo told Theron. She was enjoying this immensely.

“Hey! I’d just got the opportunity to join the SIS! I left her all our winnings! I was only nineteen too! And yeah! How many times have you done something similar, Kaliyo?” Theron pointed out, his tone heated.

Kaliyo shrugged, “At least I own it. I never pretended to be anything other than what I am.”

“I don’t think comparing yourself to Kaliyo is a winning moral argument, love.” Seren suggested.

“HEY!” said Kaliyo. “I mean, true. But hey!”

“Anyway…” Tindra was ready to continue her story. “I see him, like, years later in a cantina with a girl who, fyi, was wearing a lot less than me…”

“It was Nar Shaddaa.” Seren said quickly, “And I was in disguise.”

Vette laughed. Back then when Seren had still been trying to be a proper Jedi, she and Kira had both noticed that somehow all her disguises had involved very little clothing.

“And so I decided to get him back a little.” Tindra continued, “Make trouble for him with his new chick, y’know?”

“Understandable.” Kaliyo told her.

“Right?” Tindra nodded. “And so like Seren said, I straddled him and kinda rubbed myself on him. I was hoping to get a reaction, if you know what I mean, that would get his girl pissed at him. But before I had a chance to get anywhere with that, I was suddenly flying across the room, and…”

“You were not ‘flying across the room’, Tindra.” Seren interrupted her to point out. “I threw you across the booth, not the room!”

“Yeah with magic!” Tindra said, her voice rising. “And then you snatched my blaster away from me, also using magic, so I was completely defenceless!”

“Ok, firstly, it was the Force, not ‘magic’,” Seren interjected, her voice also rising, “and secondly, you had your blaster pointed straight at me!”

“Yeah? Can you blame me? You’d just thrown me across the room!” Tindra almost shouted.

“Across the booth, not the room.” Seren reiterated, teeth gritted, “And can you blame me? You were rubbing your crotch on my boyfriend’s dick!” She reached over and covered Astrid’s ears.

“Wow, I am not enjoying this as much the second time around.” Theron mused, seemingly to himself. “Maybe I am more mature now.”

Seren and Tindra stopped arguing and everyone turned to stare at Theron. Who looked around in confusion.

“You said that out loud buddy.” Gault supplied helpfully.

Theron’s eyes widened, “I, er. That is. Um, what I meant was that…”

On the table in front of her, Seren’s glass of wine suddenly flipped forwards, the long stem providing the leverage to fling the contents forward at enough velocity to splash it over Tindra’s face, a few drops also landing on Kaliyo.

“What the hells?” Tindra jumped up and faced Seren, her face flushed with temper and embarrassment.

Seren got up too and the women stood staring at each other angrily over the table.

“That wasn’t me!” Seren yelled.

“Are you twelve?” Tindra yelled back, “Who the hells else was it, then?”

Theron gasped, his eyes swivelling down to his daughter. He picked her up and held her out at arms length, like she was a bomb instead of a baby. Astrid clapped her tiny hands together, looking delighted.

“Theron, you’re not seriously suggesting that…” Seren started.

“Well if you’re saying it wasn’t you, and…” Theron interrupted her.

“It wasn’t!” Seren said, then sarcastically continued, “Sorry to disappoint you that the girls aren’t fighting over you again.”

“Er, can we please focus on the fact that our daughter is falling to the dark side, like I told you earlier?!” Theron exclaimed.

Seren threw her hands up in exasperation, only her Jedi training allowing her to avoid smirking herself as Tindra flinched away from her. “Fine, Theron, we’ll take her to see Dr Oggurobb in the morning, but I’m sure there’s another explanation. And in the meantime, hold her normally, she is not a thermal detonator.”

Theron hugged Astrid and she rested her little head on his shoulder. He looked down at her lovingly, but with obvious nervousness, and Seren sighed and opened her mouth to reason with him.

Before she could do so however, Tindra said to Theron, her tone suggestive, “Hey, remember, if you ever need a break from all this domestic drama, you know where to come.”

The rest of the cantina, who had been studiously and politely ignoring the Commander’s confrontation, looked around en masse as there was a huge crash. They saw a redheaded spacer pick herself up from a broken pile of tables and stools metres from where she’d been sitting, shaking her head to clear it, her glamorous curls slightly askew.

“Ok, that fucking was me.” Seren told the rest of her table.

Theron swallowed. “That er, kinda was as hot as I remember it, actually.” he told Seren, looking into her eyes.

They stared at each other, pupils dilated, until Vette cleared her throat.

“Um, so we really should be getting to bed, I mean putting the baby to bed.” Seren said to their friends.

“Uh huh, sure.” Said Kaliyo, looking down at Theron’s crotch again, her eyebrow raised.

“That was a joke, Ser… Commander, I was joking!” Tindra walked back to them, rubbing her bruised back.

Seren rolled her eyes, but said nothing.

“So um, do I still get to be part of your Alliance or not?” She asked Seren.

“Assuming you stay out in open space, and away from my husband, sure.” Seren told her. “We do need good smugglers as it happens.”

“Are you certain, Commander?” Hylo asked her. “We do have other options.”

Seren shrugged. “I’m sure. It’s not like I’m threatened, just irritated.”

Theron had moved behind her and had his free arm around her shoulders, partially to reassure her that she definitely didn’t have any reason to be concerned, and partially to shield his privates from Kaliyo’s extremely disturbing gaze. “Good night, everyone.” he said, gently steering Seren away from the table.

As they got further away from the table, Theron whispered something in Seren’s ear that nobody else heard, but that made her bite her lip, the hand that she’d had on his waist sliding down to his butt.

“That was great.” said Kaliyo loudly. “Almost makes up for missing out on that night when Theron and Quinn got really really drunk.”

“Sh-SHUSH,” Vette said. “They don’t know you know about that!”

Kaliyo shrugged. “Eh, everyone knows about that. And they didn’t hear me anyway.”

“Who’s Quinn?” Tindra asked, sensing the potential for some more super-fun trouble.

“Ugh.” said Kaliyo. “Imagine the most rigid stuffed shirt Imperial Officer ever, then double it.”

“I hate to agree with Kaliyo,” said Vette, “but yeah, I agree with Kaliyo.”

“Oh. Boring.” said Tindra. “Unless… under his starched polyfibre uniform there lies the passionate beating heart of a… What?” Everyone was looking at her shaking their heads.

“Don’t even go there, girly.” Said Hylo.

“Yeahhhh, even I don’t pull at that thread in front of the Commander and Theron.” Kaliyo told her.

“Hey guys!” said Doc, as he approached their table. “I just saw Mr Grumpy Pants heading out of here with Seren and their kid, so I thought it would be safe for me to come in for a drink. What’s new?”

He suddenly noticed Tindra, and his eyes lit up. “Hi gorgeous, what’s your name?”

She looked him up and down, grinning, “What would you like it to be, handsome?”

#swtor #star wars the old republic #fanfic #theron shan #swtor jedi knight #swtor oc #swtor smuggler

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sullustangin · 2 years ago

Text

Fluffy February Day 12: Shell

Fandom: SWTOR

Time: probably within the first three months since Eva was defrosted (3632/31 BBY -- 21 ATC)

Pairing: Theron Shan/Smuggler

Words: 1250

A/N: Yes, I could not resist mentioning how Bioware has shamelessly recycled Koth’s face for Galactic Seasons...

“You’ve got this,” Theron reassured her in a low voice as Eva took misstep – another misstep – in their waltz. “Just follow my lead.” One warm hand flexed against her cool, exposed upper back, while the other squeezed her right hand.

She felt the pressure, not the hand.

Silently, she shook her head.

She wasn’t ready yet. “I’m not --”

He didn’t need to hear the rest: he could see it in her face. Theron pulled her in close to him and spun them out of the range of their mark. They’d practiced that throughout the evening, making sure they could extricate themselves as elegantly as they had entered the Zeltronian pleasure palace. The night was still young, so they would have ample opportunity to complete the mission.

One way or another…

Theron’s hand was on her chin, demanding her attention even as their feet continued to move in time at the edge of the dance floor.

Her right was still raised; she hadn’t noticed his hand’s departure. She dropped it to his shoulder, immediately.

“Eva, look at me.” His olive-gold eyes burned into her. “You are the best person to pull this off.”

“Theron, I’m not –”

“You are. You’ve got the fastest hands on Odessen, even if it’s only your left. In all the sims, you consistently beat Koth by well over a second, even with Lana making a mind-trick distraction. That second will make the difference -- ”

“That, and Koth looks more the sort to rob a casino.”

“Thanks, Lana.”

The tension between Theron and Eva broke as they heard Lana and Koth bicker in the getaway speeder.

It was Eva’s first op since she’d been defrosted. An opportunity had come up unexpectedly to “acquire” a particularly exquisite Corusca gem bracelet. It would be traded onward for credits as well as intel regarding Zakuulan supply depots. The bracelet … just had to be acquired without anyone noticing. Hot merchandise couldn’t be moved on the market; the current owner of the bracelet couldn’t notice it was missing.

Eva had pawed through old VATs with Risha and Akaavi, finding a solution.

Lana had mustered the very rational objection.

Theron had absorbed the data and input, then disappeared into Oggurobb’s lab to see what miracle the good doctor could manufacture.

Now they were here, him in a classic, timeless suit, and Eva in some big-sleeved yet backless confection of the week.

Theron leaned in closer to Eva, his breath ghosting over the shell of her ear. “We’ve practiced for weeks. You and me, waltzing past Koth and Lana. We just need to execute.”

She just needed to execute, in truth.

Eva shook her head. “You were right, I’m out in the field too soon –”

“We’re here now. You’re right. We’re ready. It’s happening,” Theron cut her off, grasping her numb right hand. His other palm now stroked her back, a sign of comfort between lovers.

“You know, there is the other option,” Lana offered over their earpieces.

“And I’m sort of not excited about that option,” Theron muttered.

Koth’s pilot’s chair creaked. “You need to have a little faith, before you send Theron off to stage a mugging gone fatally wrong-- ” and then the argument started again between Lana and Koth.

…it wasn’t Lana who had suggested that backup plan. It was Eva. Old habits and criminal tendencies died hard. Now she regretted it, even as she watched Theron roll his eyes at Lana defending the plan as a brutally efficient solution to their problem.

Theron had already told her he didn’t want to live in the grey areas they had prior to the Eternal Fleet. That went for not just deciding what they were, but what he did in the name of a faction.

Eva knew he’d do it for her. And the mission. Maybe even mostly the mission. But still, a little piece of him would do it for her…

And she didn’t want him to do that.

Eva adjusted her left sleeve.

“Let’s get back to the main floor,” Eva said to Theron, loud enough for the people around them to hear, as well as Lana and Koth.

Theron drew so close that his lips did brush the shell of her ear this time. “You sure?”

“Yeah.”

A well-executed op was a beautiful thing.

As they had practiced for weeks with Lana and Koth, in spare hours in the empty executive suite, Theron and Eva had waltzed in perfectly timed circles toward their mark: woman of indeterminate age, leisure class. She was consistent, doing the same things Theron had observed when watching her and her partner dance over the last few weeks.

She would slide her bracelet up her forearm to keep it off her wrist. Her partner had the tendency to drop his right arm as he led a turn. Those had been the last pieces of intel they’d needed.

After revolving about them for ten minutes, like planets revolving about the sun, Eva signalled to Theron that this was it, three finger taps to the shoulder.

Theron spun them in a rather grand big top flourish, joining the rest of waltzing crowd in the finale of the dance. The music swelled, and the people spun faster than a roulette wheel.

But Eva had been a quick draw champion, drawing, shooting, and hitting her target in less than a third of a second.

Eva’s left arm reached out from its perch on Theron’s shoulder, and Eva’s modified hold-out knife shot out. Rather than something in a weapons shop, the blade had been substituted for one of Dr. Oggurobb’s obsidian scalpels, modified to have more of a hook than a straight blade. Effortlessly on the first turn, Eva rotated her wrist so that the scalpel cleanly sliced through the jewelry wire, then with a smooth pull back, its magnetic properties hooked the Corusca stones right into the compartment on Eva’s sleeve, right through the gap between the woman’s left arm and her partner’s lowered right arm.

Her hand was back on Theron’s shoulder in a split second. The voluminous fabric hid the motions of her wrist.

On the synchronized counter turn, swinging back the other way, Eva let her hand slide down Theron’s arm just enough to get an angle, then activated the release on what once had been a zipline launcher. Instead of line spinning out, the replica bracelet leapt out toward its target.

A second launch command signaled the replica bracelet to activate its self-closing mechanism.

And then, to avoid the obvious landing of the jewelry on the former owner’s wrist, Dr. Oggurobb had installed single-use, biodegradeable micro-repulsor lifts to gradually lower the bracelet down to the skin. The Hutt had been excessively pleased with himself.

And then Eva was spun away in a spin of lights reflected off of the glitz and glamor of the Zeltronian pleasure palace.

Theron led them through two more shorter waltzes, Eva following his lead as he maneuvered them around the floor; he kept their mark in his line of sight all while gliding across the dance floor, making artificial small talk with Eva. Talked about a pet dog that didn’t exist. Mentioned a fantasy Huttball pool that he was not a part of. Referred to a friend she didn’t have.

After two dances, Theron seemed to be satisfied that the pair hadn’t noticed anything amiss. “I heard there’s a pazaak tournament starting after the late seating for supper,” Theron said off-handedly, as if this wasn’t at all planned.

“You heard right. I was thinking of entering.”

As they stepped off the dance floor, Theron pressed a kiss to the side of her head. “Welcome back, EC.”

…that was a beautiful thing, too.

@fluffyfebruary @ayresis @starlightcleric @ermingarden @bluephoenix1347 @sarpndo -- heist fic!

#fluffy february #swtor #theron shan #theron shan/smuggler #lana beniko #koth vortena #heist fic #oc: eva corolastor

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