#theron shan/smuggler

[sullustangin]

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!

[rukiexramen]

The first Spark

Zaphalia sometime teasing Theron is all fun in game until he gets a liking to her lmaooo. She likes him too but wasn’t expected him to feel the same ahahah! This happened in Razorback Island after Theron was escorted out from the revanite. 

[vagabond-art]

happy May the Fourth Be With You with a collection of SWTOR art

3rd belongs to @hunnybadgerv 6th belongs to @biwabiwa 7th belongs to @jukkariart 10th belongs to @queen-scribbles collab with @chocolatepyrusart

[kwrite1776]

A little while ago, I asked @sullustangin if I could print out and bind their fanfiction, and they agreed.

Just about finished with Volume 1 (parts 1 - 5 of Corellian Whiskey and Sullustan Gin) - ran out of vinyl and still need to work on designing a cover worthy of such a great fic, plus there are a some other issues I want to improve for the next time. But, I am super excited to have a copy of the story on my bookshelf.

Once I figure out how to make room on my bookshelf. This books already over 600 pages and based on quick formatting of the next parts of the story, future parts will be longer. By the time the story is done, I'm pretty sure it'll take up an entire shelf on its own.

But it's a story worth an entire shelf of space because it is absolutely fantastic. The story is wonderful; the characters are amazing and realistic, with strengths and weaknesses that make sense. Plus the relationship between Theron and Eva is just the best.

[tiredassmage]

out of one major inconvenience and into the next, my boy! <3

[greyias]

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?”

[serenxanthe]

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?”

[chaoticstrata]

The "undercover" haircut for Theron has really grown on me.  I was iffy with it a first but I rather love it now. Also...getting the Secret Agent outfit for him was 100% the best call...damn he looks good in it.

And yes...I got sucked back into SWTOR. I don't know if I hate myself right now or not because I'm having a blast on my Imperial Agent and Smuggler (screencaps of them later.) Both are romancing Theron...because yes. All the yes. He's my best spy boyfriend. :3

[cryo-lily]

Theron [Looks up from a datapad toward RE-M1]: Hey Rem, Have you seen Issie? I have a report she needs to see.

RE-M1 [Happy beeps]: I think so! Last I saw this way.

[Theron gets led down a mostly abandoned hallway, RE-M1 stops near a specific door]

Theron [Pauses briefly and squints suspiciously at the muffled un-identifiable sounds beyond the door before knocking]: Uh... Is?

[Loud crashing & scrambling noises followed by a loud thud before the door slides open as Isadola steps out from a dark room]

Isadola [Out of breath, clearly disheveled. Hair down, mask loosely put on & crooked, no gloves or bracers, jacket with only one sleeve on, tube top pulled dangerously low, missing belt & only one boot on, lipstick markings trailing down her neck & beyond]: THERON! uh... Hi... What’s up? [Pauses to catch breath] Did something happen? Wait... Did Taskar piss off Hylo again or something?

Theron [Grimaces as he takes a step back]: Something like that... Listen it can probably wait...

Isadola: No, what is it? I can-

[Isadola gets pulled back in to the room by an unseen force swiftly before the door slams shuts and locks]

Theron [Turns back toward the small scout droid now emitting laughter like beeps as he begins to walk away]: You knew they were in there didn’t you?

RE-M1 [Indignant beeps]: I did not, how dare you even assume such?

Theron [Looking at the small droid now riding on his shoulder]: You’re a terrible liar for a supposedly sentient droid.

 RE-M1 [More indignant beeps]: Don’t be such a sourpuss... Well If you’re feeling lonely I can holo your partn-

Theron [Pinches the bridge of his nose]: Please don’t... They are- You’re the worst you know that?

RE-M1: [More beep like laughter]

[coreene]

I was just thinking about Theron, as one does when they wake up in the morning.

I had this image of him finding my smuggler's ship and just sitting inside it thinking about her. I think he just used it himself, in that five years, to feel somehow closer to her. That is ofc until Lana went to save her and she came back.

[sullustangin]

Fluffy February 2024 Master List

Huzzah! I wrote 29 things for Fluffy February (ok, 28 things plus one very fluffy chapter for my bigger fluffy fan fic).

Highlights: I developed my canon for both Lenn Teraan and Cole Cantarus. I wrote another Akaavi/Mako piece (someone needs to write them an epic Carbonite Years fic). I posted my most explicit work so far (is that a low light?). Dr. Oggurobb has decided to weigh in a lot lately.

I'll post the round up list, and then reblog with the AO3 link.

Snow -- 10 ATC - the smuggler crew lands on Alderaan

Eavesdrop -- 22 ATC -- Someone is spying in the cantina.

Entertain -- 21 ATC -- Theron and Eva do an intel drop at a casino.

Learn -- 10 ATC -- Eva learns how to dance from Lenn Teraan.

Planet -- 29 ATC (chronologically "now" in canon) -- Eva buys a planet. Because.

Fire -- 36 ATC -- Eva, Theron, and the big family on Odessen roast marshmallows.

Recovery -- 24 ATC -- Eva recovers from the Nathema Conspiracy. Risha makes sure of it. CW for untended anorexia.

Smile --over the years -- Theron's teeth may not be real, but his smiles are.

Storm -- 5 ATC -- Eva meets her first magnetic storm.

Care -- 21/22 ATC -- After Theron is injured, Eva makes sure he gets the care he needs.

Quest -- 39 ATC -- Theron and his band of adventurers... need to go to bed.

Discipline -- 40 BTC -- the Grand Admiral headcanon/backstory that's been rattling around.

Splurge -- 25 ATC -- Eva buys Theron a gift that isn't exactly what he wanted.

Free space! I added to Elysium, for a little while.

Craft -- Carbonite Years -- Akaavi knits something for Mako for the first time; in terms of the relationship, that's a big deal.

Spontaneous --- Theron and Eva rope Lana into one of their schemes.

Pleasure -- 22 ATC -- Eva speculates on some of the alternative universes in which she met Theron differently.

Pain -- sometime between 25 ATC and 29 ATC -- Bit of a kinky piece wherein Theron has his old scars replaced by Eva. This is Explicit for sexual activity, biting, bruising, and blood.

Shadow -- the legend of the Voidhound, from a child's perspective.

Partners -- 21 ATC -- A Theron/Eva heist fic, with their radio comms as cover

Reward -- 40 ATC -- Dr. Oggurobb finally retires... or so he thinks, thanks to Bowdaar.

Sacrifice -- 29 ATC (between patches 7.2 and 7.3) -- Theron sacrifices one of the few things to survive from his childhood. Eva is a pregnant person in this fic, so CW for that.

Dance - Eva dances with Jace Malcom. This is a continuation of an eventual post-Nathema fic about a party.

Apology -- 28 ATC (Between Elom and 7.3) -- Theron liberates Arcann from his job at a fast food join in Dromund Kaas by punching him in the face. No, I will not elaborate (I will totally elaborate).

Kiss -- 21 ATC -- Theron thinks about the his views on good morning kisses in the early days after Eva's return.

Rain -- 21 ATC -- Theron finds Eva out in the rain after Koth is worried about her. It's not as bad as it looks.

Protect -- 14 ATC -- Dr. Oggurobb meets the Voidhound on Makeb.

Shy -- 13 ATC -- Cole Cantarus becomes friends with benefits with Eva (she pays at the bar).

Fresh -- anytime after 23 ATC -- C2-N2 tries to start spring cleaning on Virtue's Thief. "Tries" is the operative word here.

Taglist

@fluffyfebruary, @ayresis, @starlightcleric, @ermingarden, @blueburds-but-swtor, @vihola, @commanderlurker, @sarpndo, @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond, @vexa-legacy, @grandninjamasterren

[rukiexramen]

When Zaph finally convince her workaholic spy boyfriend to take a break

[spitzobsessed]

I FOUND EVERYONE'S NAMES

Taral, to a newly redeemed Arcann: Welcome to the Alliance! We have-

Taral: A fake Sith! *Points to himself*

The brains *points at Lana*

Lana: Thank you, Commander.

A workaholic *points at Theron*

Theron: Hey!

An angry loth cat *Points at Riot*

Riot: *growls*

A free (ghost)therapist *Points at Zuni's Forcd Ghost*

Barsen'thor Zuni: *bows*

An astrology nerd *Points at Isra*

Major Isra: Magik Practitioner.

A greedy bastard(affectionate)

Hunter Ranov: *salutes*

A friendly alcoholic

Captain Devika: Hiya!

Her arsonist bestie

First Mate Beda: Yo!

A pathological liar. *Points at Mérina*

Agent Mérina: *shrugs* Imperial Training.

A bad Jedi *Points at Von*

Battlemaster Von: *glares*

Taral: And a confused bisexual. *Points at Praxy*

Praxy: *stares into space*

Arcann: Who's in charge?

Senya: Whoever makes the most sense.

Taral: Lana.

Lana: Taral.

Arcann: *wondering how these people outsmarted him for five years*

it's hilarious bc in reality Lana is as much trouble maker as the others she just pretends she's the mature one

[sithsandstardust]

Instagram comment sections are so magical

(Captain Kaira Nach belongs to the lovely @thenachlegacy 💖)

[tiredassmage]

Your honor: bisexuals.

[ainyan]

Flirting

“You know, before we head off of Coruscant, maybe you should go see a doctor.” Ciprys ignored Risha for a moment, flicking switches and toggling buttons as she ran through the pre-flight check. The smuggler girl crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently while she waited for the Captain to finish. 

Finally, Ciprys sighed and leaned back in the captain’s chair. “Alright. I’ll bite. Why do I need to see a doctor?”

The smuggler stared at her boss. “Because that spacer was absolutely delicious, and you didn’t even bother to laugh him off. Make plans for later. Tell me you’d meet me back here. I’ve never seen you turn down a willing man before - not like that, not without even so much as a flirt.”

The Chiss looked annoyed as she gazed at the galaxy map, studying the systems as if trying to decide where they were headed next. “So I wasn’t down for a tumble, so what? I don’t sleep with every man I see, you know.” 

“Damn near,” Risha muttered, and held up her hand as Ciprys swung around in her chair, scarlet eyes hot. “I’m not insulting you, I’m worried. You haven’t been yourself since everything went down on Yavin. I know there’s some big bad shit out there…”

Snarling softly, Ciprys sprang from her chair, fingers caressing her blaster as she paced across the cockpit. “Do you? Do you even understand what happened? The Sith Emperor is out there somewhere, trying to come back. And while I’m not inclined to take anything a Sith says at face value, Darth Marr’s running scared of his old boss, and that’s got me scared. The head of the Dark Council isn’t exactly a coward.”

Risha took a deep breath as her captain stalked in ragged circles. “I get that, but things weren’t exactly cloud nine before, and that didn’t stop you from taking your fun as you found it. I’m just saying, Cip,” she added cajolingly, “I’m worried for you. About you. You’re damn near the only family I got in this galaxy; I don’t wanna see anything happen to you.”

The fight drained from the Chiss, her eyes closing as she drew her hand from her blaster, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Damn it, Risha. I’m fine,” she sighed, lowering her hand and opening her eyes to gaze at the other smuggler. “I just - between this whole Revan and Emperor thing, and everything else on our plate, I’ve had little interest in bedsports.”

Risha shook her head. “And of course, it has nothing to do with what else happened on Yavin, right?”

Immediately, the shutters dropped, Ciprys’s expression closing to wooden blankness. “Nothing else of import happened on Yavin,” she replied blandly. “Still no word from Command on that next shipment we’re supposed to be taking for them; I’m going to my quarters. Message me when we get our manifest.”

Risha watched Ciprys go, sighing, and studied the galaxy map, wondering where their next adventure would lead them.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The door slid shut behind Ciprys and she engaged the locks, rubbing her forehead as she sighed. “Damn it, Risha,” she muttered as she shrugged out of her jacket, tossing the leather coat carelessly on her bed. She began to unbuckle her holster, then paused, eyes narrowing. “Oh for the love of - how the hell did you get onto my ship?”

“Will you really insult me by asking that?” Stretched out in her desk chair, Theron Shan raised one eyebrow at the Chiss. “I mean, you’ve got great security, but we’re talking me here. C’mon Ciprys,” he added in a wheedling tone, “don’t tell me you’re not happy to see me.”

She didn’t want to be. The spy who sat before her with that charming smile and those sly hazel eyes was a complication she neither needed nor wanted in her life. Risha might make light of her habits, but her lightskirt reputation had been quite calculated. “Yeah, sure, Shan, I’m always happy to see a handsome face.” Her smile was coy as she swept past him, ruffling a hand over his hair. “Just stop by for a reprise of our farewells on Yavin? I might have time to oblige.”

He reached up to snag her wrist, holding her fast, and felt her tension immediately ratchet up. “I didn’t say that,” he replied mildly, watching her as she stared at the far wall. “I saw you were on planet and thought we could talk.”

“I already told you once,” she replied shortly, “I’m not interested in being an SIS mole. I have a lot of good, valuable clients that might be put off by the idea. If you want to tangle up my sheets, Shan, let’s go. Otherwise, I’ve got stuff to do before the manifest comes in.”

He didn’t release her wrist, even though she tugged experimentally, testing his grip. “Almost perfect. I’d have bought it on Rishi - I did buy it on Rishi,” he corrected, feeling her stiffen. “But you slipped up on Yavin. You almost had me completely fooled.”

When she yanked her wrist again, he let her go and she jerked backwards, rubbing at her hand. “What you see is what you get, Shan. I’m about as deep as Corso.”

The spy steepled his fingers before him as he met her bland scarlet gaze. “Having looked into your white knight, I’m pretty sure that’s far more insulting to you than to him,” he replied, and she bit back a bark of laughter. “You are definitely more than you appear,” he added, more soberly, and her mirth fled. “I get why you pretend otherwise - but you can’t fool me again, Ciprys. No backwater bumpkin is going to manipulate the head of the Dark Council with such precision.”

She turned away from him, still rubbing her wrist. “Everyone has moments, Shan,” she muttered. “Mine are few and far between. I’m exactly as I appear. A hotshot smuggler from beyond the Outer Rim whose big goal is to get rich and retire young, preferably with a bevy of pretty young men. And if you’re looking to be one of those,” she shot over her shoulder, “alienating me ain’t gonna get you there.”

“Bullshit,” he countered pleasantly, and her eyes went hot. “I’ve seen your accounts - all of them,” he added before she could retort. “I know your contacts. You could retire today and never lift another finger for the rest of your life and never want for anything - even with the funds you sink into some schools out in the Outer Rim.” She could hear the puzzlement in his voice.

Ciprys grunted. “Kids gotta learn, and they don’t always have options out in the back of beyond. What does the SIS care what I do with my money?” He noticed, curiously, that she didn’t seem particularly upset by the intrusion into her privacy - or even surprised.

Theron closed his eyes, sighing. “For the SIS, they care because you’re Chiss,” he replied flatly. “Any Chiss in Republic space is suspect - don’t tell me you didn’t know that. For me, I just want to know you better.”

She made a disgruntled noise. “Look, Shan,” she snapped, whirling around and stabbing a finger towards his chest, “you and me, we’re from different galaxies, but we got a few things in common. One of those things is that we’re both players, not stayers. We had fun - and it was some great fun - but that’s all it was.”

His hazel eyes held a glint that she found disconcerting. “Then it shouldn’t be any problem for you to join me for a caf while you wait on your manifest,” he replied with a slow smile. “Just between friends. Nothing to worry about.”

“Theron Shan, I am absolutely certain that that phrase and you shouldn’t be within shouting distance of each other,” came the captain’s exasperated retort. His grin only increased her irritation - and her wariness. “Seriously? You want to have a cup of caf? You don’t have to seduce me, spyboy. You already did that,” she added dryly.

Theron watched her with infuriating patience. “Caf and conversation. That’s all I want.”

Ciprys was at a loss. She was no stranger to clingy males; the cost of playing around meant that occasionally one ran across a man who didn’t understand the concept of a one-night stand. But she knew she hadn’t misread the spy - he was as likely as she to have ‘one in every port’ as the old saw went. 

So why the hell was he so insistent on dragging this out? Some SIS operation? Concern from up top about the carte blanche they’d given her after Yavin?

No, too heavy handed.

Did he really just want caf? “Fine,” she finally replied shortly, eyes narrowing at the triumphant glint in his gaze. “Some caf, some conversation. We can just nip into the kitchen…”

“Nope. Know a nice little place in the Galactic Market sector. Quiet, out of the way, most of the clientele are people like you and me.”

She blinked. “You want to go out?” she asked flatly, then, “and there is no you and me. There is no one like you and me, because you and me are antithetical to each other.”

Theron’s lips quirked. “Do you even know what it sounds like when you say words like ‘antithetical’ in that country bumpkin’s voice? Is it just me that breaks your cover, or does it crack every time you get frustrated?” Before she could reply, he shook his head. “No, I’ve seen you stay perfect under pressure. I’m flattered.”

The heat in her eyes would have seared a lesser man to cinders. “You’re about to be flattened,” she growled, and when he grinned, she snapped her teeth at him. “By the Flame, Theron Shan, what the hell is your malfunction? I know I’m good, but I’m not that damn good.” She paused. “Well, okay, I am that damn good.” She caught sight of the laughter in his eyes. “Disagree?”

Theron spread his hands. “How about that caf?” he deflected, levering himself up from the chair and coming to his feet. “Ciprys,” he added softly as she hesitated, “I really just want to talk. No grand conspiracies here. No convoluted plans. I’m not trying to recruit you, and I know you’re loyal to us. I just want to talk to you - as friends.”

Friends. What a strange concept. Ciprys sighed, rubbing her neck. “Fine,” she muttered. “Fine, you win, Shan. Let’s go get some caf.” She snagged her jacket from the bed. “Dunno what you expect me to tell you that you don’t already know.”

“Well,” he replied as he followed her out of her cabin, past the gaping Risha and spluttering Corso, “for one thing, what’s the story behind the akk dog?”

Ciprys glanced towards where the spiky crimson creature lay beneath the table, watching her with huge dark eyes. “What, Mongo? Some idiot Houk was teasing him as a puppy. Put a stop to it and he wouldn’t stop following me. I’ll be back,” she told Risha, biting back a grin at the smuggler’s dumbfounded expression. “Patch that manifest through as soon as you get it.”

Brown eyes blinked rapidly. “I - uh - yes… yes, captain,” she sputtered. “Captain, I…”

Ciprys lifted a hand, waving at her crew as the door cycled open and she led Theron from the freighter.

As the door slid shut behind her, Risha turned to stare at Corso and Akavi, who had come out at the commotion and was peering curiously after her boss. “Who the hell was that? What the hell was that?”

The Zabraki Mandalorian rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “That was Shan,” she pointed out. “The one she worked with on Rishi and Yavin. I did not know he was on board.”

“Neither did I,” Corso and Risha replied together, exchanging a bewildered glance. The Mantellian sighed and scrubbed at his jaw. “Knew she could smuggle damn near anything,” he muttered, then turned and walked away.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was not, thankfully, the cantina where Ciprys had met Darmus Pollus at. Even now, a year later, the smuggler still felt the sting of embarrassment whenever she considered the traitor and how easily he’d played her.

No, Theron had chosen an actual caf shop, small and out of the way, occupied by men and women whose professions made them more frequent visitors to Coruscant rather than actual citizens. Some of them were legitimate. Some, Ciprys recognized from past business dealings.

I’ll be damned. There is a place for people like him and me. The captain didn’t know whether to be amused or disconcerted. The spy took a table along the wall, tugging out a chair for her before sliding into the one across. She slipped into the seat, stretching her legs out and leaning back as he spoke to the server. At his glance, she nodded, and he ordered for both of them, then leaned forward, planting his elbows on the table as they were left alone. “Still think we’re antithetical?”

She gave him a cool red stare. “You’re a lawman,” she pointed out, and at his look of distaste, laughed. “Spyboy, agent, whatever you call it, you work for the government, and you find bad guys and deal with ‘em. Me? I’m one of those bad guys, Shan. Shouldn’t you be trying to lock me away?”

He spread his hands. “Wouldn’t do any good. Immune to prosecution, remember? Anywhere you could get into trouble, I’d have no jurisdiction. Anyway,” he added thoughtfully, gaze tracking up towards the ceiling, “you’re not really bad. Not like the kind of people I deal with. You’re a Republic loyalist.”

Ciprys frowned, tracing her fingertip over the table as she gazed at its smudged surface. “I’m not sure how I feel about not being bad,” she muttered. “Protestations aside,” and his grin echoed hers, light and mocking, “I’m not exactly an upstanding citizen and I like it that way.”

“Don’t worry,” Theron soothed, “you’ll always be my favorite criminal.” At her hot-eyed glare, he grinned unrepentantly, then straightened as the server returned with their orders. Closing his fingers around his mug, he canted his head to one side. “So, you rescued an akk dog from a Houk and named it Mongo. Any other pets?”

She lifted her mug, inhaling the rich scent of caf as she studied him, considering her answers. “Quite a few, actually, although Mongo’s my only big one, and the only one that’s really permanent.” She shrugged, and he was amused to see a faint flush turn her turquoise skin purple. “I, uh… rehabilitate small animals I… rescue… from abusive owners. Once they’re better, I send ‘em on to people who can get ‘em back where they belong.”

“Schools in the Outer Rim. Animal rehabilitation. Not exactly the hobbies of a master criminal,” the spy pointed out gently, and bit back his grin at her glare. “You know, I’ve heard you laugh. I’ve seen you smile. I know you have a wicked sense of humor - what is it about me that brings out so much anger?”

The question gave her pause, and she frowned, lifting her mug to sip as she bit back her instinctive retort and instead considered the question carefully. “I’m not angry,” she finally replied. “I’m… confused. I just can’t pin you down, Shan. You’re a Republic spy, son of some famous Jedi, some big shot now in the SIS. You probably had the best schools, lived the best life. Couldn’t follow in mom’s footsteps, but you made somethin’ of yourself. Why you slummin’ it with some alien from beyond the back of beyond with no past, no future, nothin’ to her but a ship and a rap sheet a kilometer long?”

His face closed up at the mention of his mother. “My childhood wasn’t what you’d expect,” he finally replied, his voice dropping low, below the general level of conversation. Leaning forward, he cupped his hands around his mug. “Let’s just say, it wasn’t typical, and it wasn’t grand. But I learned a lot, about myself and the galaxy and the people who live here, and that’s why I became a spy.” He tapped his fingers along the curving walls of the mug, then shrugged. “And I don’t see this as slumming it. I know nothing about your past - whatever you were before you appeared in Republic space eight years ago, you hid it damn well,” and he didn’t miss the flash of relief in her eyes, “but what you’ve been since then? You’re not a common criminal, Ciprys, and you’re not just ‘some alien from beyond’, either. You’ve done things other smugglers only dream of, and you barely broke a sweat.”

“Yeah, well, I am pretty great, but still.” She smirked at him, a brief flash before she sobered once more. “I dunno what game you’re playin’, Shan, but I gotta warn you - I seem the affable type, and I’m pretty easy goin’ most of the time - but you cross me,” and her eyes hardened, her expression sending a chill down Theron’s spine, “you’ll find I don’t shake easy. You wanna be friends? I ain’t gonna say no.” She sighed, shoulders slumping. “Wouldn’t say no even if you were another nobody like me,” she finally admitted. “The connections don’t hurt, but…”

“But?” he asked, when she trailed off into silence.

She sighed again. “Sometimes I’m just a bit too contrary even for myself. I have a feelin’ I’d enjoy your company, if I’d stop bein’ a bitch about it.” She looked up into his smug grin and wrinkled her nose. “Still don’t get what you’re after. But I guess someone like me shouldn’t look a gift friend in the mouth.”

Theron traced the rim of his mug. “‘Someone like you’? You mean, a highly skilled pilot with copious contacts among both the elite of the underworld and the higher echelons of the Republic - and even some Imperial connections, with carte blanche to act in Republic space.” His hazel eyes rose to meet hers and she stilled, caught by the expression on his face. “‘Someone like you’? A beautiful woman, a passionate lover, exciting in bed and out? Yeah, I can’t imagine why I’d want to spend time with you, Ciprys. Can’t imagine it at all.”

She leaned back in her chair, a deliberately distancing move, and smirked. “Well, when you put it that way, I can’t blame you for stalkin’ me. I am pretty awesome in all regards.”

The spy leaned back as well, stretching long legs before him as he tapped lightly against the handle of his mug. “You jest, but I can’t disagree. You don’t like compliments, do you?”

Ciprys pursed her lips. “I don’t trust a compliment that doesn’t come with a string attached,” she corrected finally, shrugging. “I’m used to everyone wanting something from me. Just because I can’t see your angle yet doesn’t mean I don’t know you’re after something as well.”

The irritation that flashed across his face surprised her. So did the flash of shame she felt. “Are you sure of that?” he asked, his tone measured, and she felt the weight of a crossroads upon her shoulders.

Meeting his dark eyes, she was silent for a moment, then lowered her own gaze, her shoulders rounding. “It would make it easier if I was,” she muttered, and felt the tension between them lessen. “Then I’d understand a bit more what’s going on.”

He sighed. “Does it help if I tell you I’m just as confused as you?” When she glanced up, shocked, he gave her a twisted smile. “Right now, I’m cruising on instinct. I want to know you better, so that’s what I’m doing. I can’t tell you why, though.”

She let out a puff of breath. “Same goes,” she admitted, shrugging. “I… might have been thinking about you lately. A little bit,” she added, sneering at his grin. “Now and then, when I’m especially bored.”

Theron tapped his empty mug. “Then let’s just take it as it goes, Ciprys. See where it goes. Neither of us has ever been big on planning. Why start now?”

Huffing out another breath, Ciprys finally shrugged. “Fair enough.” She smirked at him. “If nothing else, history says it should be an exciting ride.”

Hazel eyes glinted as he stood, holding out a hand to her. “Oh, I can guarantee that,” he murmured, and she grinned as she slid her fingers into his, letting him help her to her feet. “In fact,” he added, tugging her forward until her toes brushed his, “we could head back to your ship…”

Her communicator sounded, and he cut off as she reached into her pocket with the hand not held in his, pulling it out and toggling it on. “Talk to me, Risha,” the captain replied, her eyes not on the holo of her friend, but on Theron’s eyes.

“Hey Captain, manifest just came in. We’re all loaded up and ready to go when you are. Is that a problem?” 

Ciprys realized she was scowling and carefully smoothed her expression. “No, of course not. I’ll be back shortly; have the engines warmed up and prep the hyperdrive. We’ll take off as soon as I’m on board.” When Risha acknowledged her orders, she toggled the com off, pocketing it. “Theron, I -”

“Have a job to do.” His thumb slid over her knuckles, then he dropped her hand, shoving his own in his pockets. “I get it, believe me. There’ll be other times, other places. I can promise that.”

Ciprys hesitated, then went up on tiptoe to press a light kiss to his lips. She felt him stiffen against her for a split second before he leaned in, returning it. “I’ll hold you to it, spyboy.”

“Fly safe, flygirl,” the spy murmured, and clenched his fists to keep himself from reaching up to trace the smile that curved her lips. “See you around, Ciprys.”

“See ya, Shan.”

He watched her walk off, hands still shoved into his pockets. He still had no idea what the hell was going on - but he had a feeling he would enjoy finding out. Exhaling, he tossed the credits for their caf on the table and strode out after her.

She wasn’t the only one with a job to do.