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wild-karrde · 8 months

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Guarded - Part 1

Master List | Next Chapter

A/N: HI HELLO HOWDY! Alright, so a while back, I decided I would rework "Guarded" and "Reunion" a bit, so THIS IS THE START OF THAT EFFORT. This rework will not be as extensive as what's happening with "In Command", but this fic will be getting upgraded to an Explicit rating (with the M option still available on AO3). So if you're new to this fic, I HOPE YOU ENJOY IT, and if you've already read it and decide to revisit it, I HOPE YOU LOVE IT AS MUCH AS I ALWAYS HAVE. And for this go around, I WILL HAVE MY OUTSTANDING BETA READER HELPING FOR THE WHOLE TIME (TJ came on halfway through this fic last time), so THANK YOU as always to @teletraan-meets-jarvis for her stupendous support and beta-reading!

Chapter Rating: T (entire work is rated E, but M-rated version can be found on AO3)

Warnings: canon-typical violence, character death

Word Count: 3.4k words

She could feel it, something in the darkness, just out of reach, creeping towards her.

Not another dream.

The presence shifted, and with it, her certainty that she was in fact imagining it.

DANGER.

The word flashed in her mind like a siren. She rocketed to a sitting position, her hair sticking to her face and neck with sweat that was pouring from her brow. A dark figure loomed in the corner of her room, body half in her window. Their eyes met and his widened at the understanding that his quarry had detected him.

Oh, Maker.

Diving out of her bed, she rolled behind one of the ornately carved nightstands as a blaster bolt ricocheted off the light that stood on it. She coughed from the smoke as she yanked open the drawer on the front of it, pulling her blaster from its hiding place. Her assailant advanced, firing at her as she ducked further behind the nightstand. She heard him chuckle darkly as he stepped up onto her bed to get a higher vantage point.

She was exposed.

Without thinking, she launched herself from her crouched position, tackling the intruder. Her shoulder slammed into his ribcage, and she heard him grunt as her momentum carried them both to the ground, his helmeted head smacking hard against the floor.

He’s dazed at best. Got to keep moving.

She somehow still had her blaster in her hand and tucked it against the attacker’s exposed throat.

“Make a move and I will kill you without hesitation,” she panted.

She heard the same low chuckle again.

Suddenly, his wrist wrapped around hers as he tried to roll on top of her, but he had underestimated her strength. She squeezed the trigger once, twice, and the bolts hit him in the clavicle and throat. He gasped and wheezed, rolling off of her. She stood, her hair hanging in her face as she leveled the blaster at him again, ignoring the metallic smell of blood and charred flesh.

“Who sent you?” she demanded.

“It doesn’t matter…more…will…come…” he wheezed before falling silent.

She knelt down next to him, feeling for a pulse that no longer beat, and she cursed silently as there was a sudden banging on her door. She stood, tucking her hair behind her ear as her security protocols were overridden and her door burst open, the room immediately filling with guards. The captain stood next to her, gently taking her arm to turn her towards him.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, attempting to hide the fear in his voice.

“No, I’m fine. Can’t say the same for our friend here.”

The captain’s brow furrowed. He snapped out a few orders to the guards, and they all rushed to comply.

“They’re growing bolder. This is no longer safe, and you know it,” he whispered quietly.

“Gregar, we can’t let them win.”

“If you die, they win, and they came close tonight.”

“You don’t give me enough credit.”

“Oh, I think I give you plenty. But I’m making the call.”

---

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Three chimes echoed throughout the darkened ship. Only one of the clones was awake, and he didn’t move in his bunk, hoping one of his brothers would get it.

Beep. Beep. Beep. The comm panel was insistent.

Peering over the edge of the bunk, Hunter could see Tech was asleep at the comm station, his feet propped up on the console and his neck tipped back over the chair at a perilous angle.

How does he even sleep like that? No wonder his posture is terrible.

He could see the flashing indicator trying to tell them they had a new message, but Tech’s snores continued uninterrupted.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Hunter sighed in frustration.

He’s clearly not getting up.

He looked around in the bunk for something to throw at his sleeping brother but was unsuccessful. Groaning one more time as he stretched his shoulders above his head, he rolled out of the bunk taking care not to step on Wrecker in the bunk below him and made his way over to answer the message. He could see Echo asleep in the copilot seat in the cockpit and Crosshair was stretched out on the floor in the back of the ship. Hunter wasn’t sure how long it would take him to re-integrate with the team, but it seemed like the sniper was determined to keep his distance for the foreseeable future, even when he was sleeping. He sighed before moving over to the comm console.

Hunter shoved Tech’s feet off the console, jolting him awake.

“Hmmm…what is it?” Tech asked, readjusting his goggles, which were askew across his face. It never failed to amaze Hunter how alert his brother could be after being woken from a dead sleep. It almost unnerved him at times.

“We’ve got a message.”

Hunter punched a few keys and a hologram illuminated in front of them in the form of Senator Bail Organa.

“Greetings, Clone Force 99. I hope this message finds you safe. I have received a request for protection from one of our closest allies. I have been asked not to disclose the name over this channel for security purposes, but I am transmitting coordinates for your rendezvous with their representative. While this may seem unusual, the situation is…complex, and requires special attention, which is why I’m asking you specifically to take this. The contact has stressed that it is imperative that your presence there remains a secret, so please take the necessary precautions. Send a confirmation once you get this message and are on your way.”

The hologram dimmed and Hunter leaned against the wall, rubbing his hands over his face as he attempted to ingest all of the information.

“Well that was…ominous and vague,” Tech muttered.

“Whereabouts do the coordinates put us?” Hunter asked.

Tech punched a few buttons on the console, and a blue and green planet popped up on the display. “Naboo. Looks like we’ll be putting down well away from any major cities. Theed will be the closest one.”

“What do we know about what’s going on there?”

“So far, minimal Imperial presence. Currently ruled by Queen Kestia Nodala, who seems very anti-occupation and has thus far been successful in keeping large forces away. There’s been some rumored tension between her and the Empire recently, but nothing confirmed.”

“Over what?”

“Resources, allegedly.”

Hunter grunted as he ran the information over in his mind.

“Alright, well, let’s get heading that way. Set a course for Naboo and send Organa a confirmation and an ETA that he can provide his contact with. Also, let Omega know we’ll be unreachable for a while so she doesn’t worry if she tries to contact us.”

Tech nodded wordlessly, standing up and stretching his limbs and cracking his neck before heading to the cockpit to lay in the coordinates.

---

The green of Naboo’s forests glowed like a cut and polished emerald below them as Tech brought the Marauder in to land in a small clearing. They’d been met with no suspicion, and that was enough for Hunter’s nerves to be strained.

Nothing is ever this easy.

Quickly, the five clones exited the ship, armored and armed.

“Heads on a swivel for the contact,” Hunter’s voice buzzed from underneath his helmet.

“Do we even know who we’re looking for?” Echo grumbled, scanning the treeline.

“Me,” a voice said from behind them. A tall, dark complected man sporting an eye patch stepped from the shadows, hands raised to show he wasn’t a threat. “I’m your contact.”

The clones whirled on him, raising their blasters.

“And who are you?” Tech asked.

“Gregar Typho.”

Tech’s head cocked in recognition at the name.

Wrecker noticed. “You know him, Tech?”

“I know of him. He was the personal guard for Senator Padmé Amidala prior to her death, and he now currently works as head of the Royal Naboo Security Forces.”

Hunter stared at Typho. “The Royal Naboo Security Forces?”

The captain’s expression didn’t alter beyond a slightly raised eyebrow. “If you’ll come with me, I’ll explain on the way, but we need to get moving. We’re too conspicuous out here.”

“What about the ship?” Wrecker grunted.

“It’ll be fine. Step this way please.”

They walked to the edge of the clearing and Typho punched a few buttons on his vambrace. The ground underneath them rumbled as the Havoc Marauder slowly sunk beneath the grass, being lowered into large hexagonal opening below them. They peered down into what appeared to be a large hidden hangar below the surface. As soon as the ship was completely submerged underground, two grass-coated plates snapped shut seamlessly, and the clearing was again empty and seemingly undisturbed.

“The very precise coordinates make more sense now,” Tech stated.

“Impressive,” Hunter muttered.

“You’ll get it back,” Typho reassured him with a hint of a smirk. “Now come, my speeder is this way.”

The five clones and the captain piled into the speeder that Typho had hidden beneath the trees, and without another word, they were zooming along under the treeline, mostly obscured from view. Hunter noticed that once again, Crosshair had been largely silent since exiting the ship. In fact, he wasn’t sure if his brother had said anything since learning of their mission. When he’d given them the briefing, Crosshair had been leaning back against the hull of the ship, quietly working on yet another of his toothpicks. All he’d given was a nod of acknowledgement before starting to gear up. Now, he was sitting in the back of the speeder, his rifle tucked next to him while he stared out into the trees.

Just give him time. He needs time.

Hunter turned back to their newfound companion in the seat next to him.

“If you don’t mind me asking, Captain, can we possibly get an idea of what we’re doing here?”

Typho gave him a look out of the corner of his eye before sighing.

“You are persistent.”

“I prefer to know what I’m getting my team into. We trust our mutual friend that set this up, but faith will only get you so far.”

The captain nodded. “You’ll get more details once we reach our destination, but for now, the person I represent –“

“The queen?” Echo asked.

“The person I represent” Typho insisted, giving him a glare, “is in grave danger, and I have been assured that your skillsets are best-suited to protect them.”

“Better suited than your own?” Hunter pressed.

“There are… limitations to what my guards and I can do. Naboo is not a planet of warriors, and we believe in peace at all costs, even if those costs are sometimes great. A military force is not something we possess or something we welcome.”

“And yet you hired us,” Tech said.

“Yes, I did. Please understand the desperation of the situation for me to do so, and the risk that comes with it.” He glanced at their armor. “We’ll have to get you changed once we arrive. You’ll stand out too much with your clone armor.”

Wrecker groaned from the back of the speeder. “Ugh. Nothing ever fits me.”

Typho gave him a once over. “I’m sure we’ll find… something.”

They rode in silence for the remainder of the trip, the wind whistling by their helmets as Typho piloted the speeder through the forest. They could see the city of Theed rushing into view on the cliffs above, but the captain never turned the speeder towards the main entrances, instead steering for the bottom of the bluffs. Echo shot Tech a look, and he shrugged as they pulled into a large cavern. A few hundred meters into the cave, there was suddenly dim lighting along the floors and walls, and Typho expertly piloted through the tunnels.

“Where are we?” Wrecker shouted above the roaring winds.

“These tunnels run alongside the catacombs under the city. Best way to get in and out without being seen,” the captain replied.

Wrecker shuddered at his reply. “I don’t like dead bodies.”

Echo looked at him, tilting his head. “You see dead bodies all the time.”

“It’s different when I’ve killed ‘em.”

Echo started to ask another question but appeared to accept Wrecker’s logic as Tech shook his head, still typing away on his datapad. Crosshair didn’t budge, continuing to stare into the tunnel ahead of them, the dim lighting gleaming off of his visor.

After seemingly several klicks, Typho pulled the speeder to a stop in a tunnel that led to a staircase cut into the rocky walls. He pulled his helmet from under his seat, tucking it under his arm as the clones assembled in front of him. Making sure he had their attention, he spoke.

“From here on out, it’s imperative that you not be spotted by anyone outside of the small group of people that are aware of this plan. You must do exactly as I say, is that understood?”

The rest of the clones turned to Hunter, who nodded. “We understand, Captain Typho. We’ll follow your lead.”

The captain dipped his head slightly in acknowledgement, placing his helmet on his head, but Hunter could sense his continued unease. He turned and began climbing the stairs, and they followed. As they neared the top, Typho reached into his pocket to pull out a commlink, raising it to his lips. “Iden, do you read?”

A female voice responded. “Loud and clear, Captain.”

“Is she ready to receive her private appointment?”

There was a brief pause on the other end. “Affirmative. You have a clear shot all the way. I’ll lock down the entrances and have guards posted outside.”

“Excellent.” Turning back to them, Typho sighed. “Alright, let’s go. Try and stay away from windows if you can.”

They all nodded in acknowledgement. Typho keyed in the door’s code and they stepped through into a well-lit passageway with marble flooring and stained glass windows lining the hall. The corridor was empty, and they moved quickly to keep up with Typho’s pace. Echo had to keep elbowing Wrecker to hurry as he turned, taking in the architecture around them, slowing his strides to stare at the colorful windows.

“You’ll have time to be a tourist later. We’ve got to keep moving.”

Wrecker grunted but obliged, picking up the pace to keep up with the captain.

Typho led them up several flights of stairs and down several corridors before pausing outside a large set of closed double doors. “Iden, confirming we are clear?”

“All clear. Come on in, Captain.”

The doors swung open, and Typho motioned for them to follow him. The room they walked into had massive pillars encircling a seating area that was arranged around an ornate wooden desk. There were guards stationed around the room along with six women in matching dark robes, their hoods pulled low. A large window illuminated the room and the woman staring out of it. She turned to face them as they entered, clasping her hands in front of her.

Queen Kestia Nodala stood taller than most, her dark hair braided elaborately into the headpiece she wore, a silver diadem with dark blue stones that hung low on her forehead. Her gown billowed out, making her appear wider and more imposing with sharp shoulders and wide sleeves that hid most of her hands, only her white thumbnails poking out from the cuffs. Matching silver ornamentation lined the bodice of her gown, fanning out to the hem of the skirts, which flowed towards the floor. The queen wore the traditional white and red makeup of Naboo royalty, the red dots on her cheeks giving her face symmetry while a red line divided her lower lip in two, the Scar of Remembrance. Her green eyes glowed in the sunlight as she stepped forward to meet them.

Typho strode to her, removing his helmet again to tuck it under one arm as he bowed. The clones took their cue from him, removing their helmets as well.

“Queen Nodala, may I introduce Clone Force 99,” he gestured at them to step forward.

Hunter led the group, bowing stiffly. The queen watched him unwaveringly as he straightened, meeting her eyes.

“Your highness,” he said quietly.

His brothers bowed awkwardly behind him, doing their best to show respect even though they were all well out of their depth. There hadn’t been much time to meet politicians of any level during the war, much less any that were considered elected royalty.

The queen stared Hunter down for a few more moments before turning to Captain Typho. “I see my wish to handle this internally has been disregarded then,” her voice boomed with a slow, deliberate tone that made Wrecker shift uneasily on his feet. Her eyes snapped to him, and he quit moving, instead opting to stare at the floor.

“M’lady, we’ve discussed this,” Typho said quietly, his voice strained. “I do believe your safety warrants this measure.” Leaning closer and speaking so softly even Hunter could barely hear him. “And this was a compromise in my book, if we’re being honest.”

She watched him carefully for a few moments before letting her sharp eyes return to the clones, roving over each of them in turn. “Very well. As it appears my captain has decided you are necessary for my safety, I will accept his judgement. For now.” She swept forward, extending a hand to Hunter.

The rest of the clones watched as their sergeant fumbled with how to best greet the royalty before him. Finally, after several awkward moments, he clasped her hand, bowing again. He saw Tech nod slightly out of the corner of his eye and internally breathed a sigh of relief at somehow managing to get that right.

“Hunter, your highness.”

“M’lady,” Tech coughed behind him less than subtly.

Hunter shot him a glare before correcting himself. “M’lady.”

I guess I should be happy he at least tried to be sly about it.

As Hunter lifted his head, he could have sworn a smile tugged at the corner of the queen’s lips as he released her hand. Tech moved in next to make sure his brothers could see the appropriate protocol.

“Tech, m’lady,” he said, dipping his head as he clasped her hand gently. Hunter noted the muscles in her forearm flexing as she gently squeezed Tech’s hand before he released her fingers, raising his eyes to meet hers. Despite her initially stoic demeanor, the queen seemed slightly amused by Tech, her eyes sparkling and her mouth quirking upwards at his bespectacled brother.

Her reaction surprised Hunter, but then again, if she found Tech somewhat entertaining as a first impression, he wasn’t about to shatter that illusion.

We’ll see if she’s as tickled once he starts correcting her every move, he thought with a smirk.

Not everyone had the patience for Tech, and this queen seemed at least somewhat impatient based on her interactions with Typho. The captain was behaving as though he’d been anticipating a fight ever since they stepped into the throne room, and while one hadn’t materialized, Hunter could still see he was tensed in the way his spine was ramrod straight and the way his jaw was clenched, watching her carefully.

Once they’d all been introduced, the queen turned back to Captain Typho. “I suppose we should get these men into clothing that’s less conspicuous.”

He nodded. “Yes, m’lady. I had planned on disguising them as security officers.”

She raised an eyebrow. “What exactly will differentiate them, then?”

“They’ll be stationed right next door to your quarters and at least one of them will be with you at all times.”

Her mouth tightened into a thin line, and they could all see she was half a second from arguing with him again before another guard strode into the room. She was short with her hair pulled back into a slick plait. She appraised the clones for a moment before addressing the queen.

“Apologies for the intrusion, m’lady, but your next appointment is here.” Hunter recognized the woman as the Iden that they’d heard speaking with Typho during their walk to the throne room.

The queen narrowed her eyes at Typho in annoyance as she turned to acknowledge the information. “Thank you, Lieutenant. I shall receive them once Captain Typho and our guests have departed.”

With that, Typho bowed stiffly before turning on his heel and leading the clones out of the throne room the way they’d come, the massive double doors swinging shut behind them with a dull thud.

*Tag List: @seriowan @partoftheeternalsoul @rosmariner @misogirl828 @ellichonkasaurusrex @zoeykallus @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @staycalmandhugaclone @readheadgirl @fordo-kixed-rex @wizardofrozz @ariadnes-red-thread @justanothersadperson93 @leftealeaf @kaminocasey @echos-girlfriend @lucyysthings @obihiddlenox @merkitty49 @littlemissmanga @clonecyaree @baba-fett @sleepingsun501 @rexxdjarin @samspenandsword @babygirlrex0504 @ladytano420 @fxlsealarm @runforrestr @djarrex @corrieguards @the-cantina @witchklng @wolffegirlsunite @fives-lover @rain-on-kamino @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall

*If you do not wish to be tagged in this rewrite, please let me know (same goes for Reunion)

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keravnos-kori · 1 year

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return to sender - chapter three: best and brightest

ofc x tech (eventual)

word count: 5.1k

rts masterlist // ao3 link

summary: halla has been alone for the past three years. as it turns out, relocating to coruscant and attending a prestigious university hasn’t been as glamorous as she originally expected - but when a new opportunity comes along for her to prove the republic’s injustices committed against clone troopers, she might get more than she bargained for when the power structure suddenly collapses and is replaced by something far more sinister…

a/n:...let's pretend it hasn't been almost three years since i've updated

~~~~~~

“Are we there yet?”

A collective sigh reverberated throughout the cabin. Tech bit his tongue, but couldn’t help his eyes from rolling. “For the eighth time, Wrecker, you’ll know we have reached our destination when we drop out of hyperspace.”

The largest member of the Batch released an irritable groan from his position on the floor, resting his head on the cool durasteel siding that made up the Marauder’s interior.

“Does it always take this long? I never have to pay attention since Crosshair-…” Wrecker trailed off, the circumstances that led them to Saleucami in the first place overtaking his thoughts.

There was a tense silence that spread between the cockpit and main hold, cut through after a moment by the newest member of the crew. “I’m sure it can’t be that much longer!” Omega reassured. The young girl swiveled around in the co-pilot’s seat to face the rest of her companions, feet barely brushing the ground.

Tech glanced up from his datapad to assess the chronometer on the console closest to him. “Your intuition is correct. We are expected to make the drop in approximately one-half standard hour.”

Turning to follow Omega’s gaze, Tech noticed Echo nodding somewhat absently at the communications panel. Hunter continued to pace the length of the ship’s main compartment, fingers twitching near the holster of his vibroblade: a habit only initiated when his patience was wearing thin.

Staying glued to his datapad was the most effective way to keep Tech’s mind occupied in the moment. There was a lot to process from the past few days, and while he was mentally capable of doing so, he was not sure he was prepared to open up emotionally in front of his brothers about his concerns.

This seemed just fine with the others, as they had yet to discuss the implications of Crosshair’s departure either.

Having to leave their brother behind was a difficult decision, to say the least. Though Crosshair began to act strangely on Kaller, the Batch chalked it up to his severe disposition and assumed he was in a sour mood from all the contradictory orders. It wasn’t until their mission in the Onderon sector that things got out of hand.

Disobeying Hunter to his face. Threatening civilians. A total lack of disregard for how they always operated.

All in all, Tech felt as if he’d failed Crosshair, and not just from departing without him.

For not being able to see the warning signs sooner.

They’d always been close. As close as anyone could be to Tech, and vice versa with Crosshair.

Flashes of their days as cadets flashed in Tech’s mind. Everything that they’d gone through together, first as a quartet for the majority of their enhanced lifespans, then with the welcome addition of Echo to their squad. What was it all for if they left each other behind?

Wasn’t that what made them who they were from the very beginning?

Tech inhaled deeply, clearing his thoughts.

Crosshair’s absence wasn’t the only thing troubling him. Nearly 12,400 parsecs away was a civilian he had, for weeks now, kept contact with.

Against Republic regulation.

Tech had his own creative methods of bending the rules, but this went against his training completely.

He accepted her request for academic assistance on a whim. Resisting pursuits of knowledge was not where his strengths lie.

But that wasn’t all…

This civvie, this woman, was in the very heart of Imperial territory from what Tech was able to glean from scattered radio waves. In his last transmission, he was able to relay recent events to her and provide a warning to escape before anything worse happened in her vicinity.

Her.

Halla.

Contact attempts would have to be few and far between them now. He was effectively on the run from his creators and she was subject to increased surveillance in the capital.

The thought was not a pleasant one.

He was confident in his ability to take care of himself despite the circumstances, but she was just a student - albeit a rather intelligent one. Tech knew, though, that intellect and survival skills were nowhere close to being in the same category. The best he could hope for would be that she keeps her head down and book passage to a system not known for its ties with the centralized government; much like his own plan.

Redirecting his attention back towards his screen, Tech’s heel began to bounce beneath the control yoke as he began to brainstorm potential solutions. How could he provide assistance from such a distance away? What good would he be to her if they had no method of communication?

Straightening his back, Tech decided to compose a new message before he had to switch back to piloting manually.

If he was capable of modifying his signal to become untraceable (which he was and did), and he provided instructions to Halla to do the same, would it not be logical to assume their transmissions could resume without external interference?

There was a flurry of typing as Tech did all he could to explain, down to the minutiae, the process of concealing one’s transmission identifier, holonet mask, and localized device positioning mechanism.

Child’s play for him, in the grand scheme of things, but not for an individual with no engineering experience whatsoever and who had once admitted to him that she’d once fallen for a basic malware ploy that resulted in unsavory Neimoidian images to be downloaded on to a University-owned device.

On that note, Tech made an effort to be as thorough with his directions as possible.

Once the list was drawn up and revised for clarity, Tech took a moment to check the chrono once more: T-minus four minutes until the drop. Satisfied with the results of his work, Tech wrote a quick note near the top of the message and addressed it before sending it off.

Clipping the datapad back onto his utility belt, Tech began his routine of sublight prechecks.

If Crosshair couldn’t be helped right now, maybe Halla could.

~~~

Halla was not a morning person.

She did not enjoy drinking caf or planning how she was supposed to be productive that day. Most of all, she hated waking up before noon on a good day. If it weren’t for the bitterness she felt at the news she received yesterday, Halla would still gladly be nestled in bed.

But no. Here she was, bright and early at 08:00 hours, waiting for an audience with her new graduate advisor.

The administrative complex was just as big and expensive as the rest of the buildings across campus, filled with similar indoor-friendly greenery and back-breaking duraplast seating. The newest addition, besides the drab gray and white uniforms milling about, was the massive tapestries emblazoned with the newly minted Imperial cog draped liberally both in and outside all University structures.

Halla imagined they were meant to display “indomitable allegiance to the cause” or something of the like, but the only impression she was left with was how badly the shades of black clashed with the pristine white and emerald interior.

From her position in the foyer, Halla could still hear the protestors on the steps outside only meters away. It was a diverse bunch, much like the former populace of the college, all holding signs and chanting something along the lines of “hey hey, ho ho, racism’s got to go!”

It had been embarrassing to walk past them, entering the building with her loose hair as a partition between herself and the crowd. She would have joined in, and might’ve said as much to them if she weren’t trying to avoid the scrutiny of the security guards holding a barrier in place.

She was a traitor.

Halla’s meeting with the Dean was not exactly on his daily agenda. She had figured his last message counted as an open invitation, leading her to plaster on a cheerful smile at the check-in center and con her way onto the visitor list.

A list. For who exactly?

Besides a few spare personnel milling about, there was a distinct lack of student activity taking place inside. Halla never saw anyone go into the Admin Complex ahead of her, and there was no one else in the lobby to follow her up either.

They’re just wasting your time to establish authority. Be patient.

Patience was never Halla’s strong suit.

Eons (or maybe just another handful of minutes) passed before the receptionist flagged her down and led her to the lift. Riding up to the story hosting the Dean’s Offices, Halla was cast off to the next administrator who directed her to stand outside a room labeled Aurek Suite.

The pneumatic door opened, though no one was standing at the control panel. Instead, a man was sitting behind a barren desk, the high back of his chair rising over his head.

Arlin Sreetus looked to be the poster boy of the imposing aesthetic his employer was implementing across the planet. Perfectly parted hair, piercing blue eyes, and not a speck on his uniform. Neat, clean, manicured down to a level that was almost unsettling to gaze upon.

Halla felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

She wasn’t prepared for when he opened his mouth.

“Miss Ismaren, so nice to finally match a face to its name. Please, come in and sit.” He greeted her from across the room.

Halla had to bite the inside of her mouth to prevent herself from doing something she’d regret. The Dean’s voice was not suited for the body that produced it, much too nasally and broken to fit the façade that went along with his flawless white jacket.

Once she trusted herself to speak again, Halla released the inside of her cheek from between her molars, quickly striding across the office and finding her seat across from the Dean.

How am I supposed to stay angry with this slime when I’m too busy trying to keep myself from laughing?

“Good morning,” Halla greeted, tone as stiff as she could manage.

Sreetus glanced at the terminal in front of him before addressing Halla again.

“I see you’ve received my message,” he said.

“I have,” she responded.

He raised his eyebrows, and Halla had to wonder if he even knew she wasn’t here to be on friendly terms.

"I've reviewed your academic profile," he started. “Impressive credentials you have here… near-perfect grade point, published research commendations, federal volunteer work.” His eyes continued to flit back and forth between her and his screen as he spoke. “Very impressive, indeed.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Halla deadpanned.

The Dean’s nose twitched, barely noticeable but present nonetheless.

“I also noticed while reviewing your file that you have yet to register for your chain code. Every Imperial citizen is required to have one. Is there a reason you don’t?” He asked patronizingly.

Halla froze for only a half second before she attempted to brush the question off.

“I was planning on getting around to it soon. I’ve been rather busy with my research, as you could imagine.” She said pointedly.

Sreetus leaned back in his chair, blue-and-red rank plaque upon his chest shining under the bright fluorescent lighting. “Ah, yes. Your clone studies. I’m glad you decided to visit today so we can redirect you towards more…productive outlets.”

Halla bristled, “With all due respect,” which is none, “I believe my current track is the most productive use of my time. You can see from my portfolio, I’ve worked in this area for the past few yea-”.

Sreetus spoke up, effectively steamrolling over her protests before she could even elaborate on her position.

“Yes, yes, I’m aware of your past endeavors Miss Ismaren,” he groused. “No need to recount every detail.”

“But, I-”.

“There are better opportunities for you now, Miss Ismaren. I understand you hold special interests, but it is time to leave them in the past. The present is where you need to be, with the rest of us - helping to drive society forward.”

More like helping to send it into an authoritarian backslide.

Her silence prompted him to keep speaking, not that there was much time to pipe up anyway.

“You’re lucky, you know. To have such connections in your life capable of putting your name forward for such an exclusive position.”

If anything in the past twenty-four hours took Halla off guard, that comment was it.

“I’m…not sure what you mean.”

“An in. An assignment within the Imperial Service Corps. - the Security Bureau.” Despite the smug look on his face, Halla got the sense that behind his words lay a twinge of envy. “A personal recommendation from your father.”

No.

That couldn't be right.

“Sorry, you must be mistaken. My father, my biological father - we don’t speak. I haven’t seen him since I was eleven, haven’t heard anything from him directly since the start of the war. And besides, he has nothing to do with Security or whatever Service Corps. you’re talking about. He’s been in the Navy his entire career.”

Sreetus pushed on, “Forgive me then, for assuming you held contact. His surname was never redacted from your official record,” He cleared his throat and began reading off his screen. “Age: twenty-two, birthplace: Coruscant, full legal name: Hal’lazorinda Naimina Sileas Ismaren-Y-”.

Before he had the chance to finish his recitation, Halla found herself cutting him off, “I don’t go by that name. Ever.”

“And yet you use the rest…” He huffed under his breath. “Despite your…strained familial relationship, I am not mistaken. Your father’s honorable service during these past years has earned him his new position within the ISB. The request has been logged and attached to your file.” Reaching into a side drawer, Sreetus pulled out a datapad and set it squarely in front of her, already loaded with a page full of text displayed.

Taking a deep breath, Halla kept her gaze steady on the man in front of her as she reached for the device, only lowering her gaze once it was in her possession. She took a moment to skim through the first paragraph, then scrolled down to the bottom to see her father’s digital signature signing off.

Halla was dumbfounded. Why would he do something like this for her? Why now?

Feeling that she’d seen enough, Halla returned the datapad to the desk in front of her. During her review of the document, her brows had furrowed so deeply that she knew she would have a headache coming on later. All she could think about was her father’s blurry face imposed on the body of the grumpy UC archive officer.

“Now that you understand the full extent of the situation, I must counsel you to follow through with this offer. Not many your age have the chance to pass directly into the Corps. with the minimal training you have. Your only requirement would be to fulfill the Royal Imperial Academy’s junior officer preparation, maybe a basic close combat course once you are stationed. From there, you can climb to any other position you deem worthy.

Given your father’s status and the Emperor’s need for the brightest minds to fulfill his vision, the position has been tailored for you, specifically. Despite the nature of your outdated research,” Halla had to bite back a scathing remark at that comment, “you will be a perfect fit for what has been reserved.”

Halla found her head shaking ever so slightly as he finished his tirade. She had to play this safe to avoid skepticism of her loyalty, but was finding that harder and harder to do the longer this meeting went on.

“While that sounds…promising, I really have no intention of relocating anywhere without knowing where it is. Is this position intended to keep me on Coruscant?”

Sreetus pressed his thin lips together before speaking, “I am not at liberty to say. Given the confidential nature of this assignment, even I am not privy to its location. The ISB would be the organization briefing you, not the University.”

And yet you know so much about everything else…

The air around them was tense as a stare-off commenced across the desk, Halla schooling her features to match his.

He broke first. Halla’s one victory of the day.

“I sense we may be at an impasse right now. Take the day to think of what I’ve said, I will confer with the Bureau Chief and let him know I’ve spoken with you.”

Halla tilted her head and grinned, though she was sure it came off a little more sarcastically than she intended. “No issue.”

Rising from her seat, Halla turned her back on the whiny sycophant and made her way back toward the exit.

“Miss Ismaren.” Halla halted inches from the door, but did not turn around. His voice was the most severe it had been all morning.

“You would do well to learn just how far His Majesty’s power reaches. You will either join and thrive, or you may only get far enough to learn what it means to be against him. Do choose wisely, young lady. Oh, and don’t forget to register for your chain code.”

Halla didn’t remember how she found herself back downstairs, head overtaken by the dense fog of the Dean’s hidden threats.

The streets were mysteriously empty of protestors when Halla left the lobby.

~~~

Date of Transmission: 1,013:04:18

Recipient: Tech

Subject: Re: Comms Assistance

I followed your instructions to the letter, I hope I did everything right. Thought it was funny you bothered to assign me a code name - remind me to ask you about it some other time. Wanted to send a quick message to tell you my line is secure now, though I don’t know for how long now after this morning.

I met with a Uni rep who tried to recruit me into a service corps. Asked about a chain code? Didn’t know if you had any info. Either way, I’m on my way to the port to book passage off-world like you said. Will update you when done.

Stay safe out there,

Zenith

*Transceiver Identification: 02-91-31.cv.modified*

~~~

“What do you mean my credits aren’t valid? They’re galactic standard!”

A tinny response came from behind the transparisteel partition, the attendant droid repeating its earlier message: “Please be advised: your payment method has been declined. We ask that you exchange your outdated currency at the Commerce Bureau and return with the correct tender, along with a valid chain code to access the flight directory. Have a pleasant day!”

“I don’t know what you mean by outdated. Credits are credits!”

The droid’s optical sensors seemed to bore into her. Halla crossed her arms.

“Please be advised: your payment method has been declined. We ask that you exchange your outdated currency at the Commerce Bureau and return with the correct tender, along with a valid chain code to access the flight directory. Have a pleasant day!”

Halla glared up at the booth, scooping her credit chit back with more force than necessary. Pushing away from the service shelf, she couldn’t help but throw a venomous “Go to Hell!” over her shoulder. The droid only called the next person in line to come forward.

Turning on her heel, Halla stalked back to the self-checkout kiosk and punched in her information again.

And again.

Each time, a blinking red alert popped up with a message similar to that from the service desk.

Invalid Identification. Please see an attendant for assistance. Have a pleasant day!

“Blast it!” No matter the destination, no matter the departure date, all itineraries were locked behind a paywall, accessible only by, you guessed it, the correct tender and a valid chain code.

Before she could make a scene by tearing her hair out in the middle of the Spaceport, Halla stowed her chits and stalked out of the Boarding Registry.

~~~

Looking back on that awful day, Halla didn’t know why she expected it to get any better once she left the port.

Arriving back at her apartment went about the same as it normally would, except for when she stepped off the 19th-floor lift and rounded the corner to find her front door missing.

Or rather, her front door was wide open for the whole building to see inside.

Surging forward, Halla gripped her doorjamb and surveyed the interior.

“Hello? Who’s there?” Her voice shook against her will.

No reply.

With great caution, Halla entered her sitting room.

Silence.

She began to check out every inch of the space, from the floor to the ceiling and everything in between to find anything amiss.

Bewildered, Halla took a step back.

If someone had entered her home, they’d done a lousy job of burglarizing her.

Everything was as it should’ve been. Her plants, her holovids, the art on the walls, all still in their rightful place. Even Boonta was still floating around his tank without a care in the world.

Did the door just…malfunction?

For all the grief it’d given Halla over the years, the entrance’s one redeeming quality was that it was secure. It had never just opened up on its own accord before.

Padding into her bedroom, she continued to look around and take her valuables into account.

That was until she came upon her workspace.

On the ground beneath her desk was a large gap.

A large, empty gap where her holoterminal used to be.

Halla felt the blood drain from her face as her eyes went wide behind her specs.

Kriff.

Fuck!

There’s no way this is happening…

Wheeling around, she began searching every nook and cranny of her apartment for the missing console, even the spots she knew would be too small to fit it.

Halla had everything on that machine. Everything.

Her contacts, her financial information, the full draft of her dissertation.

Her entire life’s research.

Gone. All gone.

Halla stopped looking. She considered her options before going back out into the main hallway. She was sure her neighbors didn’t appreciate the way she was repeatedly punching their buzzers, but she didn’t know what else to do. Half of them didn’t open up and those that did claimed nothing out of the ordinary happened that day when asked if they had any clue what happened.

Dejected, Halla returned to her apartment making sure to enforce another lock if only to create a false sense of safety.

Safety, my ass.

She paced around for about a minute or two, running her hands over her forearms. Two minutes turned into ten.

Then twenty.

Then thirty.

She could only reach one conclusion, as paranoid as it made her come across; the same person - or group - that did this was the same as who she should’ve been reporting the crime to.

This was no petty theft. This had to be intentional.

Recollections began to invade her mind; Sreetus’ ominous warning, the apparent leeriness around her not being a registered citizen, and the Imperial officer she’d seen occupy her terminal in the UC archive.

She’d given no thought about the latter since it happened, but now she couldn’t help but think he was following her digital trail, digging into whatever he could scavenge from her session.

Halla had wiped her search history, but…

Leave it to the security agency to be able to pull it back up.

Letting out a defeated moan, she slapped her palm across her forehead.

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Halla ended up hunkered down in the sitting room for the rest of the night. She felt like a stranger in her own home, vigilant of intruders that might return at any time.

Lying on her sofa, she kept a hand on the go-bag she packed earlier in the evening. The pack included any and all essentials she would need in case a quick getaway was needed: her personal datapad (that still had all the supplemental research she downloaded, thank the Maker), its powerpack, her data and credit chits, and a hygiene bag containing her toothbrush, dental gel, deodorant, hair brush, a travel razor, and other similar items.

Her extra set of glasses, contact pods, and a small medkit she kept stowed under her kitchen sink were also shoved down too. An extra set of boots were folded up at the bottom of the main compartment with as many leggings, tunics, sweaters, camisoles, and underwear as she could roll up laying on top of them. The side pockets were bulging with her filtered water bottle on one side and non-perishable snack foods on the other.

It was hard to prioritize what to leave behind, even in a hypothetical scenario. Halla treasured her possessions: her makeup, her jewelry, her art, and her music collection, not to mention her collection of flimsi-bound books she’d accumulated over the years, uncommon as they were.

In the end, she decided to place only the earrings she’d inherited from her grandmonna in a small pouch and wear the matching pendant around her neck for safekeeping. The music was already downloaded onto her datapad, and most of the art was obviously too large to fit in the pack, sans her sketch diary and a pouch of drawing implements which she included on impulse. After careful deliberation, Halla decided to choose one particular flimsi novel from her shelf to keep with her, due to its objective value as an antique as well as the number of times it’d been read since the initial purchase.

Halla had practiced walking around her apartment with the go-bag strapped to her back, adjusting the order of its contents as needed. Once she was satisfied, she decided to make camp out where she could be the most aware of her surroundings.

Every sudden noise made her flinch as she tossed and turned her head, never shifting from the position on her back as uncomfortable as it was. No amount of breathing exercises or words of affirmation made her feel any more secure.

How do I know I’m not being watched right now?

Time passed slowly in the dark as Halla thought of her odds of escape.

In her mind, she created a chart of pros and cons when it came to registering herself, if only to have the opportunity to get off-planet.

Pro: I’ll have access to credits that work again.

Con: Who knows what they’ll do with the information I give them?

Pro: I’ll be able to book passage out of here.

Con: What if they’re able to track where I go?

Pro: It’ll get everyone who thinks I’m against them off my back.

Con: I am against them.

Pro: It would draw attention away from-

Halla gasped, eyes flying open to stare at the ceiling.

From Tech. It would draw attention away from Tech.

He was on the run right now with the rest of his squad with a little girl in the mix now. If Halla submitted to the registry, the suspicion of her (and them by proxy) would ease up. For the Maker’s sake, she had regular correspondence with him stored on her now-confiscated holoterminal! The last few messages were never uploaded to the main drive, as they only existed on her portable device, but she couldn’t risk their safety for her own selfishness. She was risking potential charges of treason or conspiracy at this point.

If I just go and do it, maybe they won’t feel the need to snoop around more than they already have…

The decision began solidifying in her mind, despite the apprehension of what might come after.

Halla fell into a fitful sleep, fingers still clutched around the strap of the bag that rested below her.

~~~

The local Coruscanti star’s natural light didn’t reach the level Halla’s apartment resided on, so she had to rely on the day cycle atmospheric controls to tell when daybreak was.

Back aching and eyes half open, Halla bathed and dressed while her morning tea was heating up. Travel mug and protein bar in hand, she made her way to the Commerce Bureau before the line could get too long.

Spending more time there than she had anticipated, she emerged hours later with a pit in her stomach, a pouch full of polished silver credits, and a new chaincode embedded in a rather unambiguous ID card.

Soon after she returned home, Halla composed a message from her school address:

Date of Transmission: 1,013:04:19

Recipient: Arlin Sreetus, Dean

Subject: Chain Code Acquisition

Dean Sreetus,

This morning I was able to obtain my chain code, I thought you would have liked to know. I’ve considered the offer you conveyed to me and have chosen to accept. Please inform the appropriate figures in this matter that I am able to begin as soon as is convenient.

Good day,

Halla Ismaren

University of Coruscant

College of Interplanetary Law & Relations

Capital Campus

Halla wanted to feel confident in her decision, but all she felt was numb all over.

Like she had just signed her own death warrant.

She didn’t look at her datapad for the rest of the day.

This is for them.

This is the right thing to do.

~~~

Inbox: (1) Unread

Date of Transmission: 1,013:04:19

Recipient: Zenith

Subject: Chain Codes

Zenith,

I am pleased you found my instructions comprehensible, however, this is not the main issue I wish to address.

I assume you encountered difficulties while at your local spaceport due to not having a chain code in your possession. We also have run into trouble because of this new database. We were able to rectify this issue for ourselves, but I must warn you about the dangers surrounding these identifiers. If you provide me additional time, I will come up with a solution for you to get around these requirements as well.

I do not presume to direct your actions; I can only provide my opinion based on what I have seen during my latest travels.

Under no circumstances should you obtain one of these codes voluntarily. I will be able to elaborate at a later date, all I ask is that in the meantime you take my judgment into account.

-Tech

~~~~~~

taglist (comment/dm to join): @wenalena @envyspinebender @shannon-lynn-21 @kimageddon

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metalheadfreak1 · 2 years

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Starbright Chapter 4

It's been a quick second but I could never forget about my lovely lovely Hunter.

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fordo-wifey · 10 months

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Greetings my lovely peeps!

Note: This profile contains NSFW content, with that means no minors under the age of eighteen.

It’s My Pleasure to Meet You!

I am Maggie and I am in my late twenties and heading into my thirties, I have been writing since I was fourteen and have since made it into a career of sorts. I am also a married woman that is generally happy with life and is hoping for a better life not only for myself but for people I consider my friends.

About The Blog:

This blog is a bit weird at the moment but the only solid thing about it, is the NSFW content that I have mentioned above. As all topics I choose to write about is basically for adult eyes only.

Fandoms I Write For:

Star Wars

Naruto/Boruto

BNHA/MHA

Red Hood

Tokyo Revengers

Original Works

Note: This list could grow or lessen depending on fandom cycle...

Request Guidelines:

I generally write original fan fiction, but I am open to writing requests! Though you should take this moment to go through my guidelines:

What I WILL Write For:

Fictional characters

Reader inserts (please make sure to specify gender, anything unspecified will be f!reader)

SFW and NSFW (Fluff, Smut, Angst)

What I WILL NOT Write For:

OCs

Forced Feeding

R*pe/Non-Con

Real people

Character/Reader Death

Coprophilia/Urophilia (Sh*t/P*ss Play)

Pedophilia/Ephebophilia

Cannibalism

Necrophilia

Bestiality

Depicting abuse in a positive light

Incest

Ships (canon or non-canon)

Please please PLEASE add your age in anon asks!

If you submit a request that involves anything from the second list, I will not reply to it. The same goes for any other requests that involve anything I’m uncomfortable with. If you have questions about why there wasn’t a reply for your request, please DM me.

Thank you and happy reading!

Check out: @daisies-daydreams

My AO3

My Star Wars Masterlist is under the cut.

->Shadows of the Republic

Starring: Wolffe x Original Female Character

The fall of the Republic, and the birth of the Empire, Wolffe—a former clone Commander—finds himself in limbo. Battling his demons, as he struggles to create a life worth living, but that’s when a chance meeting with Jaina Pellian, a human woman who had fallen into the same trap as him. Will his life be better with her? Or will he suffer a loss he can’t recover from? Word Count (Completed): 000,000

-> Forbidden Ecstasy

Starring: Neyo x Original Female Character

nothing yet Word Count (Completed): 000,000

-> Station 40 (Only on AO3)

Starring: Crosshair x Original Female Character

A SOS broadcast puts the Bad Batch in a tough situation, where they have to decide whether to save the clone troopers that were sent to investigate the same SOS or take in the scientist wanted by the Republic guards. Word count: 000,000

-> The Man of Ryloth

Starring: Captain Howzer x Original Female Character

The war raged on, battles hard fought, even with the battalion of clones that were led by Captain Howzer, there seemed to be no end in sight. At least until Lissa Amnel--a human woman-- arrived with support, allowing for more victories in their wake. But Howzer who had slept with nearly every Twi'lek he could, found himself changing with each attempt to gain her attention. Word count: 000,000

-> I Was Made for Lovin' You

Starring: ARC Hevy x Original Female Character

A quick hike gone wrong, leaves Diana Brown in a world of service and sacrifice, stumbling around the galaxy that was not her own. Far from Earth or anything she might know, but a chance meeting brings Diana and an ARC trooper together. But when it comes time to leave, will she choose to return, or will she stay? Word count: 000,000

-> Trouble in The Pine Series

Starring: Crosshair x Original Human Female

Book 1: Into the Unknown Elon, a green planet untouched by the war, and the former Republic—now Empire. A place for a man to start over, if that was possible for someone who didn’t have a say in regard to his birth. Will Crosshair, a man of regrets be able to move forward and start a new? Word count: 000,000 Book 2: Title Word Count 000,000 Overall Word Count: 000,000

-> Mr. Cupid

Starring: Mereel Skirata x Original Female Character

The playboy of the Skirata clan, Mereel Skirata, was the type to get any woman he wanted. From any walk of life. But that would be only a half truth, as the one he truly wanted was Sara Vene. A woman that worked closely with the Senators, and the Coruscant Guard. They met by chance, and the two were nearly inseparable until one night when the truth of his feelings came to light. Word count: 000,000

-> The Promise

Starring: Niner Skirata x Original Female Character

The word love didn’t match up with the likes of Niner, a clone commando that wasn’t known to show much of any emotion one way or another. But when he met Malia his heart bloomed with desire, and love. Though his appearance never changed, his words spilled all. Will Niner keep his promise to Malia, or will their love die out? Word count: 000,000

-> A Soldier's Heart

Starring: Commando Sev x Original Female Character

A soldier's duty is to protect those they love, and Sev was no different when it came to his new family which was steadily growing as years passed. Lingering thoughts of his brothers often cause him to grow quiet, but when the Empire arrives on the planet he calls home, he is met with the reality of the new galaxy. Word count: 000,000

-> Upside Down

Starring: ARC Captain Fordo x Original Female Character

The birth of his son had sent Fordo over the moon, becoming a parent meant he had more to fight for, more than just his brothers or even the woman that brought his son into the world. Word count: 000,000

-> Kiss Her You Fool

Starring: ARC Commander Alpha 17 x Original Female Character

Alpha was anything but kind, strong willed, effective soldier on the field but when Syala entered the picture. His heart took a hit, a hit that made him feel more than he ever had. Word count: 000,000

Commander Fox's love letter to Alax Halcorr

Dreaming of Her (Commander Neyo x OC)

Sinful Surrender Part 1 & Part 2

-Crosshair Western AU (sort of)

-Delta Squad headcanons

-The Bad Batch headcanons

-Delt Squad Parenting Styles headcanons

The Bad Batchers First Time Holding Their Newborn! (Fluff, Angst, and full of love)

If you want to be tagged, please like this pin post, and I will add you to future works!

#star wars #masterlist #the clone wars #original character #original content #original concept #fordo-wifey #bnha #red hood #tokyo revengers #naruto #boruto next generation

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snips2112 · 8 days

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Shoot Your Shot

Summary: Arlo happens upon Crosshair practising his marksmanship on the beach and he gives her an impromptu lesson.

Fandom: The Bad Batch

Pairing: Crosshair x Original Female Character

Rating: G

Word Count: 4,312

Part 3 of my series, Cross My Heart and Help Me Heal

Hope you enjoy!

#the bad batch #star wars #crosshair #tbb crosshair #the bad batch crosshair #fanfic #fanfiction #my writing #my ocs #clone trooper crosshair

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staycalmandhugaclone · 1 year

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The Vacation (1/4)

I shared a sexy blurg the other day, but felt it really needed a bit of before and after, so here's how that vacation starts. This is a section from a much, much longer fic that may or may not be fully shared, but the important info is that Crosshair went off on his own after season 1, and the OC (Alya) used to be with Hunter, but after getting captured by the Empire, she was pretty messed up and couldn't stay with him, thus began traveling with Crosshair. By this time, they've been working together for about a year, purely platonic (they share a bed for nightmare reasons and because I like cuddles).

Pairing: Crosshair x Female Original Character (Alya)

WC: 5.4k

Summary: After a perilous mission, Crosshair surprises Alya with a vacation, and Alya surprises Crosshair with feelings.

Rating: Explicit 18+, language, vague references to negative experiences in past relationship (kinda?)

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI. So much smut, fingering, some overstimulation, a touch of self-deprecation . Reference to negative previous relationship, but it's pretty vague. Even a bit of aftercare. It's a smut chapter to start more smut chapters. Seriously.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

I’d only just finished unpacking my supplies when I felt the ship rumble to life. The several weeks this job had granted us the use of an actual house had been… different. So many years had passed since that was a normal part of life. It was bittersweet to have had that again for such a short amount of time, but returning to the familiar rooms of the ship was its own comfort. The Event Horizon had become synonymous with home, and, despite the lingering desire to return to a life comforted by the routine of waking to the same atmosphere, the same view of sprawling hills or cozy neighborhoods, I knew none of it was worth trading the life I’d created here.

At the subtle lurch of entering hyperspace, I turned my attention down the hall toward the cockpit, just able to see a glimpse of pale hair around the headrest of the pilot’s chair. Last time we left before refueling, it was because I’d been recognized, forcing us to flee. The last job had been wrought with near disaster, but I didn’t think there was any threat of being reported, but the mere possibility set my heart racing.

“You… didn’t want to stock up first?” I felt the hesitation in my voice, testing his response before risking any theories.

“No.” He said nothing more, despite the several seconds of silence that followed.

“O..kay…” I muttered, studying him, searching for any hint of his motives. “Got us in lightspeed pretty quickly… Do you… already have a destination in mind, or”

“Yes.” He interrupted. Again, I waited, but his façade remained perfectly emotionless.

“Crosshair.” I finally grumbled, patience dwindling. Finally, the edges of his lips hinted at the beginnings of a smirk, and I let out a huff of breath. No danger – he was just toying with me. “Fine. Don’t tell me.” I stated indifferently and turned to leave the cockpit. His hand instantly darted back to catch my wrist, eyes rolling before nodding to the nav screen. My impatience instantly fled beneath the confusion.

“Alderaan?” The name left my lips in a question. “You found a job on Alderaan?” For the briefest moment, doubt touched those steadfast eyes and he turned back to the streams of passing stars dancing beyond the viewport, hand tightened briefly around my wrist before letting go.

“Figured we’d… ‘take some time’.” The way he said the words made me pause. Familiar. Why did… My lips parted in a silent gasp, heat flooding my chest. The planet of beauty. How many months – years – had passed since I’d asked him that – if he ever took time to enjoy the beauty of visiting foreign lands? “Unless you’ve had your fill of that planet. Just figured we hadn’t really stopped to… how did you put it? ‘Appreciate’ things like that.” I was silent a moment longer; stunned. “Or we’ll just”

“No-no!” I finally sputtered, lips pulling in a wide grin. “That… sounds perfect, Cross… Thank you.” I watched the back of his neck flush as he let out a small grunt. Forcing myself to ignore the flood of affection at the mere sight if it, I dropped lightly into the copilot’s seat, smile still plastered over my lips.

“I was only there for a few days – barely saw anything more than snow. Have you already chosen a place?” Knees tucking to my chest, I turned to find him watching me from the corner of his eyes, smirk once more just touching his lips.

“You could say that.” He nearly purred, and a quiet laughter escaped me.

“Mr Tough Guy vying for a vacation.” I teased, nose crinkling slightly.

“Figured we earned it after that.” He dismissed. My smile almost fell, but I forced it back. I wouldn’t let the memory of what had almost happened darken my excitement.

“How long were you thinking?” I asked, voice quieting slightly. He seemed to hesitate before answering.

“Figure we can leave if we get bored sooner, but… I booked a place for a month.” There was an uncertainty in his voice that I’d focus on soon, but… a month. He shifted slightly beneath my stare. “Never had more than a few days between missions,” He explained stiffly, “Thought I’d see what the fuss was about.” A month. No jobs, no fights. Just a month on Alderaan. With him. I thought my heart was going to tear through my chest.

“And what if it spoils you?” I asked coyly, a cheeky grin stretching across my lips. He cocked an eyebrow and glanced sideways at me. “What if you find you like that life so much, you never want to go back?”

“Then I’ll extend the rental.” He replied blankly, earning a fresh huff of laughter from me. I let myself lean back, gaze turning blindly to the blurs of hyperspace before me.

The breath caught in my throat as his hand crept up my side, fire seeping through my flesh in the wake of his lingering touch. I could taste the heat of him filling the air between us and let myself reach for him, fingers roaming up the sweeping planes of his tone chest, over the taut ridges of muscled shoulders, core igniting at the heat of bare skin pressing against mine. Letting one arm lock around my hips, holding me tightly against him, his other hand slid up my neck, clawing into my hair. I felt the eagerness of him, heard the tension in his faltering breaths as he strained for control; felt the paltry breadth of distance between us as I felt myself stretching up to find him, breath catching in a whimper as I breathed his name, and I burned beneath him. I needed to feel him against me; my hands on his chest, my legs around his hips.

Alya. My name on his lips. Alya, come on… open your eyes. His lips on

“Need to wake up.” My eyes flew open, chest trembling beneath rushed breaths, skin damp with sweat, and, when I saw him, when those weary golden eyes met mine in the darkness, I couldn’t help but gasp, shying further into the arm wrapped around my shoulder as though those few inches would erase the lingering heat from that dream. Instantly, he pulled away, straining to create some hint of distance between us.

“Just a nightmare, Alya.” He murmured, all weariness fleeing him. Lip caught between my teeth, I had to turn away, the memory of his touch still echoing over my skin, straining to force myself under control, to breathe. “Alya?” I couldn’t help but flinch, too eager to hear my name on his lips again… but the horror that stole over him left me floundering.

“Was it… was it about me?” He barely managed to whisper the words. I don’t think I’d ever seen that kind of raw hurt in his eyes before… not without a careful layer of anger, disinterest. No, this was just hurt. “I…” His lips shifted wordlessly, pulling even further from me, and my heart dropped.

“N- wait… wait.” I pleaded, letting myself turn into him. He didn’t move, body so impossibly still as he waited for me to touch him. I tried to speak, tried to form the words as my hands trembled in the miniscule space between us.

“It… was…” My fingers slipped over his jaw. “It was… about you.” I finally breathed, gaze locked on his as confusion settled over his face. My thumb trailed over the ridge of his cheekbone. “But it wasn’t a nightmare.” His frown deepened, struggling to make sense of my words, before his expression finally went blank. He didn’t move; didn’t speak, eyes burring into mine.

“Cross?” I felt so small suddenly, his name slipping from my lips in something too near a whimper, body trembling ever so faintly as I waited for some manner of response… some sign of what he was thinking.

Slowly, so impossibly slowly, his hands crept over mine, gaze never fleeing mine. Without a word, he leaned forward, and when his lips finally danced against mine I felt my heart lurch into my chest, fire tearing through me with such force, it wrenched a near silent sob of relief from my throat. So slowly, he kissed me, as though waiting for me to pull away, certain I’d refuse him if he but breathed too quickly, but I couldn’t think how to reassure him, body alight and stunned and desperate for every second of his touch.

His fingers slipped through mine, clutching my hands against him as his body swelled with a slow, deep breath, and I couldn’t silence the wisp of a moan from catching in my throat. As though that tiny sound had finally given him permission, he let himself reach for me, hands sliding up my arms, around my shoulders, tugging me closer to him. My fingers slipped through the soft velvet of his hair, lips parting as I begged him to kiss me deeper. Without hesitation, he slid his tongue against mine, wrenching another moan from me as that heat burst through my core.

I let my hands drag down his chest, savoring every shift of those powerful muscles as he pulled me closer, one arm looping beneath my head while his other locked around my back. My touch trailed lower, feeling the coiled muscles over his ribs seize with each stolen breath, fingers dancing against his spine as he slowly leaned over me, thrilled to find me all too eager to feel his weight press me into the mattress. Lower. I tugged impatiently at the bottom of his shirt, desperate for the heat of his skin against mine.

Panting, he pulled back, gazing at me drunkenly as his mouth worked silently over unspoken words for several seconds before letting his tongue dart over his lips. I felt myself reach for him, abs tensing to taste those lips once more, but forced myself to wait.

“Is this what you want?” He finally gasped. Jaw going taut as soon as the question escaped him. I could have sobbed from the warmth that shot through my chest. Nodding, I let myself lean up, lips locked into a smile as I kissed him. The air left him in something near a growl, movements growing almost frantic for the few seconds he let himself kiss me back before pressing his forehead to mine, forcing some whisper of air between us.

“Say it.” He nearly growled, pulling back enough to find my eyes once more. His hand reached up to brush over my cheek as I fought to remember how to speak, and I couldn’t help but melt into his touch.

“Yes.” I finally breathed. “Crosshair… yes… yes… I want this – I want you.” Instantly, his lips crashed against mine, tongue hot and desperate and torturous, forcing a whimper from me as I pulled once more at his shirt. That growl caught in his throat as he leaned back onto his knees just long enough to wrench his shirt over his head, launching it thoughtlessly across the room before he was on me again.

That split second I saw him, the way his muscles rippled from that simple, rushed movement left me writhing, legs shifting eagerly beneath him as a desperate moan caught in my throat, vanishing against his lips. My hands roamed greedily over his exposed skin, delighting in the scolding heat burning against me.

“Wanna see you.” He snarled, hand dragging down my side, pausing against my hip to let his thumb slip under my shirt. The fresh burst of desperation from his touch wrenched a fresh moan from me, and I had to remember how to nod; how to breathe.

“Please… fuck, Cross, please.” I gasped, hands clinging to him for a moment longer before reaching for my shirt, but he was already pulling at the buttons with an impatience I knew too well. Scowling, he glanced down for a mere heartbeat before wrenching it open, deaf to the clatter of metal scattering to the floor. And I couldn’t help but laugh, torso arching up against him, eagerly hunting his lips before letting my kiss trail down to his jaw as he focused on guiding my arms from the sleeve; his neck, savoring the feel of his pulse beneath my tongue, my teeth, body nearly caving from the low grown that rippled through his chest. He wrenched me against him, arms pulling me up to kneel before him as he wrestled with the fabric. A gasp tore through me from the flush of lust violently twisting and churning in me anew at the feel of his bare torso against mine.

Shirt abandoned to some nonexistent corner, he let his hands slide up my hips, my stomach and ribs, back around my shoulders until they tangled into my hair, forcing my lips back to his. I didn’t hesitate as he eased me back once more, body all too eager to obey his every hinted desire as he laid me down against the mattress. He didn’t wait before letting his lips roam, taking his time to press soft kisses against my cheek, my forehead, hands cradling my jaw, lips following down my hair line. I nearly cried out as his teeth snapped so carefully at the soft skin just beneath my ear, desperation growing, hands clawing at his back as shuttered breaths caught between my teeth.

“Tell me you want this.” He ordered again, voice almost hoarse. A moan sobbed from me as his tongue dragged against my throat before he sucked the skin gently between his teeth.

“I want this.” I whimpered. “Fuck, I want you, Cross… Please… ple” His hips ground against me, wrenching the air from my lungs in a desperate cry, arms locking around his shoulders as my back arched into him. Again, his teeth snapped at me, harder, nearly breaking me as every gasp left in a whimper, begging for him. I wanted to sob when his mouth abandoned my neck, kissing down my chest as his hands encircled my waist.

“Fu- ah… Cross…” The heat of his mouth hovered over my nipple, just letting his heavy breaths wash over it as he looked up at me, my arms locked around his head. His lips only just twitched up in a smirk as his tongue finally slid against that eager flesh, ruining me as I trapped him against my chest, head slamming back into the mattress, as my back arched, heels dragging absently atop the sheets. The instant I felt his hands shift to ease the fabric from my waist, I eager raised my hips to help him.

“Good girl.” He murmured against me, eyes dark as they took in how easily I came undone beneath his touch, tongue returning to torture my breast for just a moment longer before shifting to taste my ribs, my stomach as he pulled the shorts down my hips, my thighs, revealing just how desperate I was for him. He left one more kiss along the crest of my hip before pulling away. He dropped my shorts thoughtless as he stepped back, eyes devouring my exposed form.

Jaw parted, torso rocking with desperate breaths, I could only stare at him. Even in the dark, the play of muscles beneath lightly marred skin as he stood over me left me throbbing, begging for him to touch me as I looked up into the rich honey of his eyes to find him staring right back at me.

“So fucking beautiful.” The words sighed almost silently from him. Still, it washed over me like silk and, when his hand finally reached for me, when that feather-light touch finally whispered over my hip, up my stomach, fingers sliding between my breasts, up my throat; my jaw; when he held me like that, like I was the most precious thing he’d ever seen, it left me breathless. His thumb brushed against my lower lip like I was made of glass, half-lidded eyes studying my every movement, jaw tensing in anticipation as I opened my mouth, shifting just enough to hide the tip behind my lips, tongue sliding against his skin. His teeth snapped together, air fleeing him in a sharp, muffled groan.

I let my fingers whisper around his wrist, holding him against me as I slowly pushed myself up, slipping from the mattress to stand just in front of him as I sucked his thumb deeper into my mouth, eyes never leaving his. Scowl twitching over his lips, he slid his hands into my hair, drawing my lips back to his. I welcomed the kiss; needed it as though it were the only thing keeping my heart beating, savoring his taste even as my hands slid down the dancing muscles of his stomach before grasping at his pants. His kiss didn’t waver as I tugged at the fabric, effortlessly releasing the clasp with one hand, the other already pushing the fabric from his hips.

The growl that tore through his chest when I first touched him sent an inferno raging through every fiber of my being; burning, desperate. Wrist twisting slightly, I wrapped my hand around him, let my fingers treasure the heat of velvet skin around the throbbing length, memorizing that look on his face, head craning back as he merely allowed himself to become a slave to the sensations, expression twisted into something so near pain, hands clutching onto me; my hair; my shoulder, chest jolting beneath broken gasps.

The need in his eyes when he finally looked back at me left my knees weak. That growl still rumbling from his chest, he threw himself back at my lips, pushing me back until I collapsed against the bed once more, releasing him in that split second of falling. Before I could think to reach for him again, his fingers slid up my thigh, and nothing existed beyond that touch. His mouth slid back against my throat. He slowed just before he reached me, wrenching a desperate whimper from my lips.

“Please… Cross-Crosshair, please,” I begged, one hand locked around his shoulder while the other clawed through his hair. I could feel the smile on his lips as he finally touched me. A violent, desperate moan tore from my throat, mind vanishing beyond the gentle movement of those fingers as he toyed with me, sliding just between my lips. Slowly dragging over that impossibly sensitive mound before continuing along the throbbing flesh, skin already slick with my need as he worked his way back up to rub gently against my clit.

“Look at me.” He growled, movements never slowing. Body nearly shivering beneath his touch, I forced myself to open my eyes, to search for him. As soon as I found those eyes, saw the hunger in them, the lust, he slipped a finger inside me, and I sobbed beneath the violent wave of relief and need and pleasure that rippled up my core, gooseflesh dancing across my skin. I couldn’t help but writhe against him, thighs locking around his wrist even as every muscle begged for more. He toyed with me for mere seconds before slipping another finger in, and I collapsed to the mattress, pleasure bursting through me in waves.

“Look at me.” He ordered again, emphasizing it with a flick of his thumb over my clit and wrenching a sharp cry from me. Again, I forced my eyes open, instantly finding him. He began pumping into me, thumb continuing to work over that wretched bundle of nerves, sending a delicious need through me.

“Good.” He praised as I struggled to keep my gaze locked on him. Faster.

“Crosshair.” I whimpered, body growing violently desperate, nerves beginning to panic.

“You know how fucking good my name sounds on your lips?” He snarled, forcing himself even faster. My feet scraped against the mattress, back arching, coiled, pressure locking my muscles.

“Cro-Crosshair, I can’t… I… fuck, I can’t,” Words, whimpers, pleas gasped from me, “Cro-Crosshair!” His name screamed from my lips as that tension finally boiled over, rippling up my body in ecstasy even as I strained to escape him. His mouth locked over mine, devouring my whimpers as I seized against him; against the now gentle, slow thrusting of his hand, each careful movement just enough to reignite that mind-consuming dance of fire beneath my skin, until I was trembling, gasping against him, and he finally stilled.

“Do you still want this?” He asked, face hidden against my neck. Wrong. Something about how he asked felt wrong. Limbs still shaking, I reached for him, hands sliding over his cheeks to ease his gaze back to mine.

“You.” I corrected before even realizing what that wrongness was. “I want you.” Something in him seemed to quiet, and there was something so perfectly right about it. “I want you, Crosshair.” Without giving him a change to respond, I pulled him back against me, moaning eagerly at his taste. I leaned back, easing him down with me. He didn’t hesitate, hand slipping from between my legs as he rolled overtop of me.

I felt the dew of sweat beading against his chest, felt the incredible care governing his every movement as my thighs tightened eagerly around his hips. And, when he finally touched me, head just brushing against me, my back arched with a fresh whimper, hands almost clawing at him as my hips tilted desperately to meet him.

“Please,” I whispered between kisses, “Please, Crosshair,” words tangling between gasped breaths, “fuck, I need you… please.” He pulled back enough to look in my eyes, to see the raw truth in my words, and he slowly pushed into me. My jaw fell open in a gasp, that burst of nerves again rippling through every inch of my body. My teeth clicked together against a twinge of pain, flesh stretching around him, and he froze.

“Alya?” The worry in his voice, how gently he called me… I wasn’t expecting that, heart bursting as I looked up at him, emotions roiling from the ecstasy still coursing through my veins, I couldn’t but stare, tears burning as they pooled in my eyes. Something like horror crossed his face and he started to pull back, sending a surge of panic through me.

“Wait!” I gasped, hands darting to his jaw, fingers whispering over his cheeks. “It’s alright… I’m alright.” I promised, a soft smile pulling at my lips. “It’s alright.” I whispered again, already desperate to taste him once more. “Cross,” I breathed against his lips, “Crosshair, don’t stop.” I sighed, begging him to kiss me. Muscles seizing, he lost himself in my lips, hesitating only until another moaned “please” escaped me before pushing against me once more. My body shook with a violent gasp, nerves alighting from the perfect fullness.

Panting, he hid against my neck, clinging to me in his desperate attempt to maintain some degree of restraint as he slowly pulled out before burying himself even deeper inside me, movements slow, precise. Still, my back arched into him, whimper choking in my throat, hand burying itself in his hair. Again, he paused, face nuzzling against me, lips kissing absently against that sensitive skin.

“Please,” I sobbed, “Cross, please don’t stop… don’t stop…” His chest bucked and his lips found mine, only whispering against me.

“Don’t want to hurt you.” He breathed, hiding from the very threat of the words as he kissed me with a tenderness that left me reeling. Thumb brushing along his cheekbone, I tried to guide his gaze to mine, but, brows knit together, he turned purposefully away, jaw taut.

“Hey.” I whispered, taking the opportunity to lay my lips against his forehead, his cheeks, his lips until he finally looked at me. “I’m alright.” I promised once more. “I’ll tell you if I need you to stop.” My thumb trailed over his lips. “So please… Crosshair, please… I want you.” I started to kiss him again but held myself back.

“Don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing you ask for it.” He murmured, and I couldn’t help but beam at him. Movements still slow, controlled, he pulled out again, eyes once more studying me before pushing back into me. Gasping, I let my head sink against his neck. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders, holding me against him as he fell into a tantalizingly slow rhythm, each thrust getting slightly deeper. Deeper. I could feel the nerves panicking. My hand locked around his hip terrified he’d stop even as I found myself terrified that he’d keep going; that he’d tear right through me.

“F… f-fuck…” I whimpered, spine arching into him. A grunt caught in his throat, and I felt that control finally begin to slip, getting just that much faster. My other hand darted to the sheets, fingers clinging to the soft fabric, hips rocking up to meet him even as that fear told me to run, that I couldn’t handle it; that it was too much, but that fear only made the promise of pleasure so much more potent. His hand found mine, untangling my fingers from the sheets to twine them through his own before locking my hand above my head.

“Cross!” His name tore from me in a gasp as he ground just that much deeper, thighs locking around his hips.

“Fuck, Alya… Keep saying my name.” He growled, hand tightening almost painfully around mine. My nails dug into his waist, nerves coiling, tightening from his every thrust.

“C-Crosshair, don’t… don’t stop,” I gasped. “Please… please don’t s…” I whimpered. Tighter. “Cross, I c- I can’t…” Sensing the panic seething through frantic nerves, he suddenly doubled his pace, each thrust sending bursts of fire up my spine, hips finally slamming fully into mine as he forced the entirety of his length into me. Abandoning his waist, my arm darted around his shoulder, desperate for something solid as my body seized on the verge of shattering beneath him, every gasp leaving in a rabid cry. Tighter. I was going to break.

“Cross, I can’t, I-fuck, fuck!” I sobbed. A violent cry erupted from me as I finally snapped, arms going numb, fingertips tingling as that wave of fire poured through me. Abandoning my hand, he gripped my hip with enough force to leave bruises, movements growing desperate as he rocked me even harder against him. My chest slammed into him, back arching violently, body panicking beneath screaming nerves even as my arms locked him against me begging for more. His movements grew desperate, face tucked into my neck as something like a whimper of his own caught in his throat. My hands clawed through his hair, every thrust forcing a fresh cry from my lips; too much. Too much. Nearly sobbing, I cried his name, begging for something I couldn’t name.

With a sharp, almost pained gasp, he wrenched himself out of me, body seizing for a few seconds longer before going still beyond the unsteady, shuttered gasps. Chest bucking beneath lungs starving for some taste of air, I could only hide beneath him, arms still clinging to his shoulders as my muscles tried to remember how to loosen. Hand slowly shifting from my hip, he pushed himself up onto his elbow, just lessening the weight of him against me. With only the sound of uneven breaths filling the room, he touched his cheek to mine, pausing a moment before he pressed his lips to the sensitive skin just beneath my ear, shifting almost lazily along my jaw, up my cheeks, delicately touching both of my eyelids, my forehead, before finally claiming my lips once more.

Even through the exhaustion weighing down on me, I lit up beneath that touch, hands eagerly reaching to cup his cheeks, fingers just whispering into his hair before sliding down his jaw as though that might keep him against me for just a moment longer before he finally pulled back, forehead resting gently against mine.

“Are you alright?” He breathed, refusing to look at me once more.

“Mhm.” I hummed absently with a weak nod, wanting nothing more than to sink into the mattress, hidden against his warmth, but that wasn’t enough. He slid his arm from behind my head and carefully caught my chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting my gaze to his.

“Are you alright?” He asked again, and again I found myself smiling, fingers absently roaming over the sharp planes of his face for the sheer joy of touch.

“I’m fine, Cross.” I whispered, a small chuckle catching in my throat. His thumb shifted to wipe at the line of tears that had fallen from my eyes, and my grin grew. Without another word, I leaned up to steal just one more kiss before letting myself slip boneless to the mattress. When I looked back up at him, my heart skipped at the sight of that tiny smile on his lips. With a sigh, he settled beside me, arms absently pulling me to his chest as he buried his face in my hair. Warm. Safe. Like nothing else could possibly matter. Bliss. I felt bliss as I laid against him.

“We should clean up.” He sighed against my scalp, and I couldn’t help but pout slightly. The instant I heard that quiet chuckle ripple through his chest, I knew there was nothing I wouldn’t do to hear him laugh forever. “Come on.” He pressed, propping himself up on an elbow once more. “Think you can stand?” I pretended to debate it a moment before peaking at that still smirking face, and unable to fight back the grin, shook my head. He let out a forced sigh and slipped out from under me.

"Suit yourself." He called over his shoulder, started toward the door.

“Hey!” I tried to shout, but the effect was lost in the laughter I couldn’t quite bite back. Before I’d begun to push myself up, however, his arms slipped beneath me, hoisting me to his chest. That laughter escaped me anew, hands eagerly sliding around his shoulders and neck as he carried me through the ship. I scattered kisses absently over his neck and cheek as he walked, occasionally catching another taste of his lips until we finally stood in the shower.

Arm tightening around my shoulders, he gently set my legs down. I held my own weight for barely a second before my knees tried to cave. Instantly, he wrenched me against his chest, hesitating at the lingering giggle as I tried to convince the muscles to work. He let out a quiet scoff, lips resting briefly against my hair before letting me stand on my own as he turned on the water.

Neither of us said a word as the hot water washed over us. Twice, he lost himself against me, arms eagerly holding my bare form flush against him as he tasted my lips, and I readily gave in each time, nearly willing to take him once more despite the lingering ache, but he merely kissed me before turning back to guiding soap over my body. I kissed him as I worked his shampoo into a lather, hands incapable of leaving his body for more than a few seconds before searching for him again.

“Need to swap the sheets.” He mumbled against my lips as the water stopped. I hummed absently, sinking back into his touch thoughtless. That chuckle rumbled through his chest, and I felt the tremble it sent shooting down my spine. “Finish up. Then you can join me.” He added with a final kiss. I briefly tried to follow him but paused. Reluctantly, I spent a few more needed minutes in the privy before allowing myself to retreat back to his warmth.

The room appeared as though nothing had happened, but, if I looked for it, I could still catch the feral scent. Shooting him a shy grin, I slipped beneath the covers, perfectly aware that he’d stared at my exposed body the entire time. Warm. Instantly, I sank back into that perfect bliss as he pulled me to his chest. Heart flooding with affection, I nuzzled gently against him before settling in to sleep.

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#the bad batch #crosshair #star wars #star wars smut #crosshair x oc #crosshair smut #tbb smut #my writing

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moonstrider9904 · 1 year

Text

MOONWALKER, PART II: THE FLAME

SERIES MASTERLIST

Collection Masterlist | Ao3 link | Wattpad link

Read Part I Here

Summary: Force-sensitive Sarah Adhara struggles with the attachment and darkness she knows she shouldn’t feel. After leaving Crosshair on a platform on Kamino against her will, Sarah questions her place in the galaxy and in Clone Force 99 as the Empire’s unbroken rise threatens to destroy all that she holds dear.

Rating: Explicit, though most chapters are just Mature. 18+ series. Minors do not read. Smut chapters will be marked with a *

Please read each chapter’s individual tags on tumblr before reading!

Pairings: Crosshair x Original Female Character, Hunter x Original Female Character, Tech x Original Female Character

Chapter 1 - The Ace Auror

Chapter 2 - Serenno

Chapter 3 - Old Friends

Chapter 4 - Flyin' Ace (coming soon!)

Chapter 5 - Brown Eyes* (coming soon!)

Chapter 6 - Your First Steps (coming soon!)

More chapters TBA!

#moonstrider writes #the moonwalker series #the bad batch #tbb fanfic #tbb fanfiction #the bad batch fanfic #star wars tbb #tbb tech x oc #tbb hunter x oc #tbb crosshair x oc

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cthulhumystery · 1 year

Photo

[Image description: Two surly Bureau of Investigation Agents flank occultists Estelle and Anjana, in front of an ominous moonlit building.]

We’re in the final days of funding the next season of our show, a story called “The Case of the Penumbral Gate”. As of this posting, less than 36 hours remain. Support the show here: cthulhumystery.com/crowdfund

Fan-favorite sapphic occultists, Anjana and Estelle, are back and find themselves in the crosshairs of two down-and-out Bureau of Investigation Agents played by Sarah Rhea Werner of @girlinspacepodcast and Liam Malone of RPG From Scratch. It’s a tale exploring metaphysical malpractice in the haunted halls of Arkham Asylum, the troubled history of female Agents in the Bureau of Investigation, occult Jazz-Era hedonism, the trauma of The Great War, and the power of love and acceptance.

[Image description: A mock up showing the 50-page hardcover edition of the RPG book for Terrible Secret of Lot X. ]

“The Case of the Penumbral Gate” as well as our award-winning season, “The Terrible Secret of Lot X” will be adapted into Chaosium-licensed Call of Cthulhu roleplaying scenarios, written by Keeper Luke Stram and illustrated by Jarrod Pope.

[Image description: A cloth bag spilling out 5 wooden red herring coins - a fish on one side and the yellow symbol on the other. ]

Many other perks await our backers, such as Red Herring Coins for players who do a good job of chasing down bad leads, Call of Cthulhu gaming sessions run by our Keeper, tea & tarot with Cat Blackard, haunted items from Lot X, and more.

[Image description: A graphic highlighting the path of stretch goals, details outlines on our crowdfunding page.]

Stretch goals include exciting expansions like two original songs written and recorded for the show by @armyoftoys, a remaster and expansion of our debut season, and a special all about Sarah Rhea Werner’s character, Agent Lake.

THE CAMPAIGN ENDS 11/23! DONATE HERE.

Keep us alive, and help us bring the darkness to light.

#audio drama #horror #queer history #ttrpg #actual play #rpg audio drama #lovecraft #hp lovecraft #crowdfunding #historical fiction #cosmic horror #call of cthulhu #the call of cthulhu mystery program #red herring #role playing games

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bellaxgiornata · 10 months

Text

Life Worth Living [Chapter Six]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Original Female Character

[You can find the full summary and chapter list for this series here]

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains fluff, angst, violence, PTSD, smut (Contains our beloved Defenders and lots of plot twists)

Word Count: 6.3k

a/n: This is a big chapter with lots of things happening in it--and you see more of Olivia's powers on display. Poor Matt's flirting doesn't get him where he wants, though. Feedback is always appreciated!

After having exchanged goodbyes in the bar with Karen and Foggy, I had led Matt outside with me, his left hand wrapped around my right bicep. The evening had gotten even colder than when we’d initially walked to the bar and I shivered in my jacket, tucking loose strands of hair behind my ear with my free hand as the chilly breeze blew them across my face.

“Here,” Matt said, releasing his hand from my arm and gently placing it around my waist, drawing me to him like he’d done earlier. His body heat helped warm me instantly. “This still okay?”

Feeling the nerves surface at being alone with Matt again, I nodded shyly. “Yes, thank you,” I mumbled softly as I slid my hands into the pockets of my jacket.

Silence fell between us for a minute as we walked down the near empty sidewalk. There were a few taxis passing down the desolate street at the late hour, looking for stragglers who needed rides. My eyes darted from building to building as we moved, keeping my attention on our surroundings in case someone else decided to appear from an alleyway. The reality was beginning to set in that tomorrow I’d be confronting Kilgrave with Jessica. While I was nervous at being in his proximity after so many years again, and possibly opening the floodgate to a lot of terrible memories I’d been pushing down for so long, it also meant he would know I was here. In Hell’s Kitchen. Which could, in turn, put the new friends I’d just made at risk.

“You seem tense,” Matt observed, his voice breaking me from my thoughts. “Is it the guy from the bar?”

A slow exhale left my lips. I really wished I could tell him the truth; it wasn’t fair to Matt if things didn’t work out tomorrow. If he made it on to Kilgrave’s radar, how would he be able to protect himself? And he was my neighbor . If Kilgrave found out where I lived, he’d find Matt without even trying. Hell, he’d probably be caught in the crosshair just for being my neighbor.

Maybe I can warn him…with just enough truth?

I felt the muscles stiffen in Matt’s arm that was wrapped around my waist. He turned his attention towards me now, his dark glasses flashing under the streetlights at the movement.

“Olivia? Is everything okay?” he questioned.

“It’s not the guy at the bar, no,” I answered him slowly, keeping my eyes focused ahead as we walked. “But…” I began, struggling to think of a way to explain without giving away too much.

Matt stopped walking abruptly, pulling me to a stop with him. He turned towards me fully, his arm dropping from its place around me. I shivered at the loss of his warmth.

“Are you in some sort of trouble?” he asked me cautiously. “Does it have something to do with whoever attacked you?”

My tongue darted out, wetting my lips as I glanced past him.

Just some truth. Just enough to help keep him safe.

“...yes,” I answered him slowly. He went rigid immediately, drawing his cane between his hands and gripping it firmly. “I uh…I got a call earlier. Before I came back from the restroom. From the P.I. I said I was helping.” I hesitated, my eyes drawn to the way his lips pursed into a tight line the more I spoke. “She needs my help tomorrow. With that person from my past. I told her I’d help…but I’m afraid it might have some…repercussions to others in my life. If things go wrong, that is.”

A dark look crossed Matt’s face, one I’d never seen there before. His head tilted to the side as he quietly and sightlessly studied me in a way that was becoming increasingly familiar.

“You mean for us,” Matt clarified after a moment. “Foggy, Karen, and myself. You’re afraid something might affect us?”

I crossed my arms over my chest, staring down at my boots. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him shift on his feet.

“You’re…afraid for me?” Matt asked, drawing conclusions from my silence.

“I’m worried for them too,” I admitted quietly, hugging my arms tighter around myself. “But you’re my neighbor. You’re…easier to find.”

“And blind,” Matt stated bluntly.

My eyes went wide, darting up to see Matt’s grim expression. I shook my head quickly, stepping forward and placing a hand on his shoulder.

“No!” I said immediately. “No, just that you’re literally right there. Across the hall. And you’ve been…flirting with me. Which he-he probably wouldn’t be too thrilled with.”

His head sharply tilted to the side at my words. “He?” he asked curiously. “So this guy is, what, your ex? And he’s dangerous?” Matt’s brows knitted together behind his dark glasses, his voice coming out rough as he asked, “Is he stalking you, Olivia?”

“What? No,” I said firmly. “He’s not stalking me.” I frowned, glancing away again. “Yet. I mean he might, if tomorrow doesn’t…go well.” I shook my head quickly, pushing that thought away for the moment. “Just promise me you won’t go answering your apartment door for any strangers any time soon? Please?”

“I can take care of myself,” Matt assured me.

“Matt,” I said his name sharply, my grip tightening on his shoulder, “promise me.”

He stood there for a moment just focusing on me, not saying anything. I couldn’t make out what was on his mind; I couldn’t read his full expression with his damned glasses blocking his eyes.

“I won’t answer the door for strangers,” Matt eventually assured me. He stepped closer towards me though, reaching a hand up and grazing my chin before he placed his hand against my cheek. My eyes closed at the touch. “Let me help you though.”

“You can’t,” I told him softly. “This isn’t something I need a lawyer to solve.”

“I could help with a restraining order,” Matt mumbled, his thumb rubbing a gentle circle against my cheek.

A small smile spread on my lips as I opened my eyes. His mouth was twisted into a concerned frown, his brows dipping down behind his glasses.

“Trust me when I tell you,” I said, voice barely above a whisper as I lifted my hand from his shoulder and gently ran my fingertips down his jaw, “that a restraining order would never work.”

His head turned into the light touch of my fingers, his own hand slowly sliding down my neck to rest at the bit of my collarbone visible under my jacket. My heart started to beat a little faster at the intimate touch and I slid my fingers back up his jawline, slowly running them back down the sharp line again. I could see the way he swallowed hard, the bob of his throat noticeable at the movement.

“You confuse me,” he said breathlessly, taking another step closer to me. “You call me a flirt but flirt back with me. You tell me you’re not interested, yet you…” he paused, licking his lips and leaning further towards my touch, “you touch me like that. Kiss me in the bar like you did.” His jaw clenched, his thumb now gently sweeping across my clavicle. “You confuse me and you’re driving me crazy, Olivia.”

I bit my lip, halting the movement of my fingers and slowly dropping them from his face. I swore I heard him let out a quiet whine at the loss of the contact.

“I’m sorry, you’re right,” I said immediately. “I shouldn’t.”

“Why?” Matt asked, his question sounding almost like a plea. “Don’t tell me you’re not interested, either. I’m not going to believe that.” When I didn’t answer immediately he spoke again. “Is it your ex?”

I stepped back out of Matt’s touch, putting distance between us. I glanced away, unable to handle the pained look on his face.

“Yes,” I confessed. “That’s part of it. We-we had a terribly messed up relationship,” I stammered. “It’s the only one I’ve had. And now he’s here and I need to…to deal with…all of it. I can’t–I’m not who you think I am,” I told him in a rush. “I can’t be that. I’m just…too damaged, Matt. You deserve better. Normal.” I shook my head quickly. “I can’t be that for you.”

He was shaking his head at my words immediately. “Don’t, don’t talk about yourself like that. You’re not damaged. You’re not abnormal.”

I grimaced, a humorless laugh crawled its way up my throat and burst out. You have no idea, a dark voice snapped internally.

“You don’t know that, Matt,” I told him. “You don’t know me that well.”

He closed the space I’d put between us abruptly, drawing a hand straight to my chin and turning my face to face his.

“Then let me,” he begged. “Let me get to know you.”

“Matt…” I breathed his name like a whimper.

Suddenly, both of his hands were on my face. They cupped both of my cheeks, the warmth emanating from them was intoxicating and my eyes fluttered closed, anticipating him to pull me in for a kiss. Instead, his fingertips began to slide up to my temples, slowly brushing against my forehead on either side before dipping down, running over the length of my brow bone. Then they lowered, lightly grazing the delicate skin of my closed eyelids. My breath caught in my throat when I realized he was mapping out my face with his fingers. The gesture felt more than intimate despite the fact that we were still standing on the sidewalk just a block from our apartment building.

“Tell me,” he said gently, one finger sliding over the slope of my nose as he spoke, “that you don’t feel it, too.” His fingertips swept over both cheekbones before lowering down the expanse of my cheeks, until they paused along my jaw. One hand disappeared suddenly from my face as the other very slowly swept its way to my chin. “Tell me,” he began again, his other hand appearing at my hip and gripping it tight. I inhaled sharply at the movement, eyes darting open and being met with his face so close to mine. “Tell me you’re not interested.” The fingers on my chin slid up to my bottom lip, so gently tracing it with his thumb before it rose and traced my upper lip just as carefully. “Tell me and I’ll believe you,” he whispered.

I swallowed hard, fighting internally with myself. My body was aching just from the way he touched my face, and just like in the bar earlier, I found myself wanting more.

If Kilgrave finds out he’ll kill him.

My lip trembled under his thumb as I fought back so many emotions.

“I…can’t,” I said faintly, lips brushing against his finger as I spoke.

“But you want to?” Matt asked, one brow raising as his hands fell from me, one back to his side, the other gripping the cane that had been resting against him.

“I can’t,” I repeated. “Not-not right now. I can’t.”

The sad smile I’d seen on his face after we kissed in the bar returned and I felt a pain in my chest at the sight of it.

“I understand,” he said dejectedly. He cleared his throat loudly. “It’s getting colder out, we should probably get back. You’ve got to be freezing.”

“Matt–”

“It’s only another block away, if I’m remembering correctly,” he continued on, beginning to walk as he tapped his cane along the sidewalk.

I inhaled a shaky breath before shoving my hands in my leather jacket’s pockets again. I could feel the sting of tears in my eyes and I blinked rapidly, fighting them back as I began to catch up to Matt.

As we walked back to our apartment building, we didn't speak. Matt never asked to take my arm again. His mouth remained in a tight frown the entire ride up to the sixth floor when we'd gotten into the elevator in our building. And as we walked down the hallway to our respective doors, he didn't look back at me as he said goodnight before disappearing into his apartment.

I unlocked the door to my apartment and let myself in, locking it behind me before leaning against the door. A stray tear made its way down my cheek and I rubbed it away with the heel of my hand before pushing off the door, heading to my room.

I didn't bother changing before crawling into my bed. I just tossed off the leather jacket onto the floor and curled up in my sheets, pulling myself into a tight ball and burying my face in the pillow.

°•°•°•°•°•°

The hood of my gray sweatshirt was pulled up high over my head underneath my leather jacket as Jessica handed me two syringes of Sufentanil, just in case the dart gun Simpson was carrying missed. Trish was at the front of the beat up van in the driver's seat, dark sunglasses and a black beanie on her head attempting to obscure her appearance. The man beside her, Will Simpson as he'd been introduced to me earlier, was in the passenger seat beside her issuing an explanation on how to use the Bluetooth headsets in our ears to stay in touch.

I hadn't had the best impression of the cop who claimed to be ex-military; besides the fact that he'd tried to kill Trish because Kilgrave had sent him after her when she'd challenged him on her radio show, he was cocky and arrogant. He was quick to take the lead and boss Jessica, Trish, and myself around for the mission and I was getting a strong inclination that he wanted to kill Kilgrave, not just trap him. But, as I'd learned from Jessica on our way to meet up with the pair this morning, he had access to a hermetically sealed room at a now abandoned CDC building, one he'd rigged up with water and a loose, active wire attached to a button, allowing us a safe place to secure Kilgrave once we had captured him. A place to torture him though is what it sounded more like he wanted it for.

"Make sure he doesn't see either of you," Simpson said, craning his neck to look at Jessica and I in the back of the van. "If he recognizes you, he'll run and we'll lose him."

"You're going to have to haul ass to the sealed room," Jessica told Trish. "I don't know how long this stuff will work for. We have to move fast."

"Got it," Trish said with a nod.

"If anyone walks up," Simpson said, turning towards the blonde, "just pretend to be on the phone. Do not engage."

"She's a celebrity," Jessica snapped beside me, and I noted her own obvious irritation at the man in her tone, "she's used to dealing with weirdos. …usually."

Simpson glanced back at me, ignoring Jessica’s jab and studying me for a moment. I raised my brows at him questioningly.

"You sure you can handle this?" he asked.

I shot him an irritated look. "I'm the only one of you that can go up against him," I shot. "I think I'm good."

"Just want to make sure your head is in it," he grumbled.

"How about we go back to tense silence?" Trish suggested, her eyes darting between the three of us.

Tense silence did fall between us for a moment. I turned towards Jessica beside me. Her foot was tapping anxiously, bouncing the van lightly with the movement. When she noticed I was staring she frowned.

"You good?"

"Peachy," she snapped. Her lip twitched when she saw my face fall. "Sorry," she apologized. "I know this isn't easy for you either."

"It's fine," I mumbled back.

"It's time," Simpson interrupted from the front of the van.

Jessica and I pushed open the back doors of the van, slipping out onto the street. I slammed them shut behind us, following Jessica around the van to where Simpson stood, lowering a black baseball cap on his head and slipping on sunglasses. I took that moment to slip the Ray Bans off the neck of my sweatshirt and pull them on. I didn't particularly want to be recognized kidnapping someone in broad daylight.

"If Kilgrave gets one of us," Jessica started, her hand gesturing between herself and I, "just–"

"I'll take you out," Simpson cut in quickly.

Both Jessica and I shot him a look as we stepped up onto the sidewalk. My stomach knotted at how fast he'd said that and how serious he sounded.

"I was going to say use the dart gun, but sure, shoot us in the head," she snapped darkly.

"I'd rather we stick with the dart guns," I said. "Didn't sign up to die. Besides, I should be able to undo any command he gives as long as I'm around and conscious."

We split up just before reaching the park, the three of us going the separate ways we had previously discussed. I made my way into the busy park, beginning to sweat. I’d be lying to say I wasn’t nervous; not only was I encountering Kilgrave again, trying to take him down after having been free of him for the past eight years, but it was mid-morning on a Sunday. The park was bustling with people and as my heart hammered in my chest, I tried to control my racing thoughts.

What if this doesn’t work? What if he hurts someone else because of this?

…he’s going to know I’m here now. There’s no way to hide after this…

Foggy, Karen, and Matt…all three of them might be in danger if we can’t pull this off.

I shut my eyes tight, shaking the thoughts from my head and trying to remain focused. I couldn’t think about that right now and I certainly didn’t want to think about Matt after last night.

“Everyone in position?” Jessica’s voice came through my earpiece.

I snapped my eyes open, leaning against the light post and casually sliding my phone from my pocket, pretending to scroll through the news.

“I’m ready,” Trish’s voice answered immediately.

“Standing by,” Simpson’s reply came next.

Trying to disguise the movement of my mouth with my hand, I reached up as if I was just scratching an itch on the side of my face.

“In position,” I told them.

I continued to pretend to skim a news article, my eyes occasionally lifting a bit to take in the people passing by. Thankfully I didn’t see Kilgrave standing in front of me, staring me down–an image my brain kept unnecessarily projecting.

Focus.

“Here we go,” Jessica’s voice came through the earpiece.

My hand tightened around the cellphone as I felt a nervous lightheadedness hit me. I tried to stay focused on my breathing, listening for my cue. The plan was for Jessica to stalk her junkie neighbor–her words. She’d discovered he had been her stalker just before she’d called me last night and asked for my help. She said she’d found out every day at ten in the morning he would meet Kilgrave and deliver pictures of her, so the plan was to follow him, find Kilgrave, shoot him with the dart gun and knock him out. Then hopefully we’d be able to play it off like he was a friend having an allergic reaction and we’d throw him into the van and deliver him to the hermetically sealed room.

It sounded so simple and easy, but Jessica had mentioned he’d had bodyguards previously–or at least people he'd controlled to protect him. Not to mention, it was the middle of the morning on a Sunday in New York City. My money was on that this was going to be easier said than done.

“Malcolm's exiting the park on sixteenth street,” Jessica said next.

My heart ticked up, my breath catching in my throat in anticipation. This was it, we were almost about to act.

“He’s at an outdoor cafe,” Jessica said a minute later. “Sixteenth Street and Union Square West.”

“I’ll park a half block down, on the corner,” Trish said, her voice coming in a rush in my ear.

“On my way,” I told them, shoving my phone into my pocket and heading out of the park.

“Be in place soon,” Simpson added.

I walked quickly, brushing past people and trying to keep my head down as I moved. I felt like I was having a hard time swallowing as I walked; a lump in my throat seemed lodged there and I just couldn’t get it out. I tried hard to stifle the panic as my feet moved even faster.

Breathe, Olivia. You need to breathe.

I tried to draw in a few deep, steady breaths as I moved. Eventually I made it to the street Jessica was on, stopping just beside her. She gave me a slight nod before her attention returned across the street. I followed her gaze, noting the van Trish was driving turning the corner past us.

And there, at a table on the sidewalk just across the street, sat Kilgrave. He was skimming through something in an envelope with a cup of coffee on the table in front of him. Beside him must have been Jessica’s neighbor, Malcolm; he looked pale and disheveled at this distance, his focus not on the man he was sitting with but diagonally across the street, thankfully not in our direction.

A few loud pops sounded across the street and both Jessica and I stiffened in response. My eyes darted to Simpson who was rounding the corner, his hand inside a brown paper bag as inconspicuous as one could make the act look. Another loud pop from the man on the corner–making balloon animals, of all things–caused Kilgrave to finally raise his head, taking in his surroundings. Simpson was almost in his line of sight.

“Shit,” I breathed out.

“Turn back,” Jessica said quickly through the earpiece. “He can see you.”

“I’m almost in position,” Simpson answered back. “I have a shot, I’m going to take it.”

“He can see the gun,” Jessica said again in a panic.

My breathing came in fast and hard as I stared at the scene unfolding before us. Kilgrave was, in fact, staring right at Simpson as he was making his way closer. I could see the way his eyes were studying the man.

“I’m taking the shot,” Simpson answered back.

“God dammit,” Jessica muttered.

Without thinking, I began walking across the street, inhaling a deep breath before I began to shout.

“Hey shit head!” I called out as loud as I could, stepping out onto the street and waving my arms. “You miss me?”

It felt like everything moved in slow motion after that. Kilgrave’s head turned away from Simpson and landed directly on me. His eyes instantly went wide as recognition dawned over him. His mouth began to part into a warm, surprised smile, but Simpson passed in that moment, shooting him quickly in the neck with the dart. Kilgrave’s face fell as his hand flew back to his neck. He tried to stand from his chair, his eyes remaining locked on me as I continued forward towards him.

And then he collapsed forward into the table, knocking it over. The man beside him jolted up from his seat, his eyes landing on me and then presumably Jessica behind me.

“Sorry, I-I didn’t–I had to!” he said before bolting down the sidewalk at a sprint.

I bent down when I reached Kilgrave, trying to lift him by the arm. Jessica appeared beside me, lifting his heavy body with complete ease onto her back.

“Excuse me, ma'am,” a man said, suddenly darting out of the cafe door. “We got this.”

I rose to my feet taking in the sight of the two large men who’d stepped out of the cafe. Kilgrave’s bodyguards, they had to be. I sized them up quickly; both well built and average height. They looked good in a fight but I could handle them, though with time not on our side I just needed to slow them down and not acquire an assault charge in public.

“Sorry, but we've got this,” I said quickly, stepping in between Jessica and the two men.

The men didn't hesitate. They lunged towards us and I sidestepped, throwing my foot out to trip the first man and grabbing him by the shoulders when he stumbled. I tossed him backwards into the second man behind him and they went down onto the sidewalk.

“Help! They’re trying to attack my brother and my friend!” Jessica called out, shifting the unconscious Kilgrave on her back.

A woman ran over to us, offering to call an ambulance and the police. A few men nearby stood up, looking ready to enter the fight to help.

“It’s too late,” Jessica breathed out quickly to the woman, feigning a dramatic voice that I couldn't believe the woman bought. “I’ll get him there myself.”

Without waiting, we booked it down the sidewalk, Jessica toting Kilgrave on her back like he weighed nothing.

“We’re coming to you, Trish,” Jessica said into the earpiece.

I glanced behind me, seeing the men getting up from the pavement, glaring our way.

“And there’s two guys right behind us," I warned her. "We need to make a quick getaway."

“ Guys ?” Trish asked in a panic. “What guys?”

I didn’t answer, just urged Jessica forward in a hurry. I kept glancing back over my shoulder, making sure they hadn’t caught up yet. Thankfully they were still a decent distance away.

When we made it around the corner, the back doors of the van were already open. Jessica dropped Kilgrave into the back before climbing in. I pulled myself up after just as Simpson swung the front door open and got in.

“Go, go!” Simpson ordered.

Trish peeled off and I slid in the back of the van, one hand still struggling to close the back door. I could see the two bodyguards sprinting down the sidewalk before I got the door shut. My head momentarily fell back against the wall of the van, my heart racing. That had been close.

“We’re clear,” Simpson said as he glanced back in the rearview mirror. “Think we lost them.”

I tried to steady my breathing but my eyes landed on Jessica. She slid the hood from her head, her eyes staring down at Kilgrave’s lifeless form in front of us. She looked deep in her own head as she watched him, a tight line forming on her mouth as her fists clenched in her lap.

Trish glanced over as she drove, brow furrowing. “You know we need him alive, Jess,” she reminded her.

“I remember,” Jessica said, her voice distant.

I watched as she rose on her knees, one hand reaching out and grabbing Kilgrave by the lapels of his nice navy suit jacket. She swung a fist back and landed it down hard against his cheek with a solid thwack. She dropped him back to the floor of the van as she sat back on her knees, her eyes meeting mine.

“He’s still alive,” she said.

Trish and Simpson exchanged concerned looks from the front seat, but I remained quiet, trying to avoid looking at Kilgrave or thinking about him anymore than I needed to in the moment. I wanted to keep myself as distanced from my emotions as I could. If I didn't see him, really see him, I could pretend it was anyone else.

It was a bit of a drive to the building we needed to bring him to, one that went by eerily silent. Eventually when we pulled through an alley into a parking lot it was around noon. The sun was high overhead but the tall buildings around us kept us slightly shadowed. Kilgrave was still unconscious on the floor, thankfully the Sufentanil hadn’t worn off yet during the drive.

“Let’s just get him inside quickly and quietly,” Simpson said as the van came to a stop.

I began to open the back doors as Jessica reached over to pick up Kilgrave. I paused, my hands still holding the door handles as my brows knitted together. I swore I heard a noise getting closer.

“Shit!” Jessica’s voice cut through the silence.

I turned and watched as she pulled something out of his suit coat. It was something small with a red flashing light. And then I heard car doors slamming just outside and I grimaced.

“He was wearing a tracker,” I called out in understanding.

I flung the back door open, swinging it into an unsuspecting man who’d been coming for the back doors. He went down for a moment before he got right back up. The sound of glass shattering came from the front of the van and then I heard the distinct sounds of a taser and Trish’s screams from up front. Then she went silent.

I flung myself out of the back of the van, throwing a fist into the man I’d just knocked down with the car door and dodging a punch from another man who’d appeared. As he went to pull his arm back from the punch, I latched onto his wrist with one hand and slammed my own fist into his elbow. He screamed as bone broke and he fell to his knees. I could hear the sounds of tasers and fighting behind me, but I didn’t have a chance to recover as the first man who’d attacked was coming at me now, a large taser now active in his hands.

Something took over me the moment I saw the taser swing at me, electricity sparking; the telltale vibration in my skull began to hum behind my eyes. For a moment the man hesitated, fear in his eyes as he looked on at me. I knew what it was he saw that made him pause. Using it to my advantage, I threw a hand out in front of me, a pulse of energy shooting out from it towards the man as he tried to charge me. He went flying hard back against one of the buildings, hitting the brick before falling to the pavement. He went still, but I could feel his mind slip into temporary unconsciousness. He was still alive.

Ignoring the man still sitting at my feet, screaming over his broken arm, I turned around and saw three men tasing Jessica. They were in utter disbelief because she kept trying to get back up despite the multiple electric shocks. Simpson was in a headlock while being pummeled in the gut, his body trapped against the hood of the van. And Trish was unconscious in the driver seat, limp across the steering wheel.

Rage bubbled up inside and I lifted another hand, a pulse of energy shooting out from it as I screamed. All four men lost their footing and went flying across the pavement as if an invisible force had thrown them. Even Simpson stumbled forward to the pavement at the impact. Breathing heavily, I took a step towards them, throwing out another burst of energy as a few tried to rise to their feet.

“You’re going to leave here,” I ordered them, my voice sounding metallic and strange as it barrelled down the alley towards them. “Forget this happened.”

The men immediately scrambled back to their cars, climbing in wordlessly at my command.

As I turned on my heel, I noticed Jessica was angrily slamming the van door shut. Her head whipped in the direction of a car peeling out of the alley.

“He took Kilgrave!” she snarled, entirely unphased by my appearance.

My eyes narrowed at the car speeding almost out of sight. With a sharp inhale, I held up my hand at the car, mentally grabbing onto it as my hand curled into a tight fist. I pulled with as much strength as my mind could handle. The car paused, the back end lifting a half foot off of the ground. A scream tore through me as I tried to pull it back, the muscles in my neck straining at the effort. Something inside my head snapped like a rubber band tearing. The car dropped to the pavement and skidded out before I could try again. I fell to my knees panting hard as sweat covered me.

“God dammit!” Jessica roared.

My eyes darted over to Simpson who was at the driver’s side, patting Trish on the face lightly and checking for a pulse.

“Is she okay?” I asked, voice weak.

Simpson glanced down at me, his eyes holding mine for a long moment, an unreadable expression on his face before he finally nodded.

“Just unconscious,” he told me. “She’ll come to soon.”

“Good,” I said softly.

The world was spinning and the vibrating in my head wasn’t helping. I lowered myself to all fours, trying to keep myself steady as I recovered. Blood dripped onto the ground by my hands; my nose must have started bleeding from the mental strain.

“We got nothing, after all of that,” Jessica grumbled before angrily slamming a fist into the building beside us–the brick crumbled under the impact.

“Not exactly,” Simpson said as he pulled zip ties from inside his coat pocket. “I knocked one of them out. We can question him inside, see what he knows.”

°•°•°•°•°•°

The man came to shortly after we’d gotten him inside of the building where we could interrogate him privately. Simpson pulled a knife out, waving it in front of the man’s eyes as he registered he’d been tied up. I crossed my arms over my chest, not exactly liking the situation.

“We need to know where they took Kilgrave,” Simpson told the man as he began tearing the fabric of the man’s pants upwards, starting at his ankle. “There’s a pain center right below the knee cap–”

“Come on man!” the guy shouted, his eyes growing wide in panic.

“Forget it,” Jessica cut in. “You could torture him until he’s dead–he can’t tell us anything. He’s not in control.”

“I am in total control!” the man countered rapidly, his voice rising in fear. “You don’t need to torture!”

Jessica frowned, her eyes narrowing. “You mean Kilgrave didn’t tell you to do this?”

“Is he a client?” the man asked. “I never spoke to him.”

“Yet you work for that psychopath?” Simpson asked him.

“No, I work for a firm,” the man answered quickly. “I just guard who I’m told to guard. The client thought he might be attacked. Frankly, I thought he was just some paranoid nut-job with a lot of cash.”

Jessica pinched the bridge of her nose, shaking her head as she let out a frustrated noise. When her hand lowered, she met my gaze.

“He knew we were coming,” she groaned. “God, I’m such an idiot. He knew I had the Sufentanil–Malcolm would have told him.”

I inhaled a rough breath, rubbing my hands over my eyes.

“And he knows I’m here now,” I pointed out. “So that’s another advantage out of the window.”

“He’s lying, he’s got to be,” Simpson countered.

“Come on man,” the guy whined. “The job doesn’t pay good enough for me to lose a knee cap, you know what I mean?”

Jessica shook her head, catching Simpson’s eyes. “Kilgrave knew he needed paid backup in case he lost his ability. He’s not lying.”

“So where’d they take him?” I asked the guy, stepping forward.

He looked up at me, shaking his head quickly. “I don’t know; they don’t tell us where to go until we need it. It’s a precaution. I have no idea where he is.”

“I want names of your firm and the people in your detail,” Simpson told the man.

“Sure,” he said, nodding quickly. “Whatever you want.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I said slowly. “Kilgrave will just change it all now, after that. It’s too risky, he knows we’d figure it out.”

“I’ll just make sure,” Simpson snapped, raising his knife towards the man.

My eyes narrowed as Jessica slapped his arm.

“Come here, dickhead,” she ordered, dragging him to the corner of the room.

I sauntered over, a wary eye on Simpson. I was really beginning to not trust the man. He seemed like he was one step from going off of the deep end.

“Olivia and I will find him,” she said when we were out of earshot of the man. “You need to fix shit here with this guy; figure out how to come to terms with him. You’re a cop, Simpson–you’re supposed to serve and protect. Remember?” She glanced at me, gesturing her head. “Come on, we’re going to talk to my junkie neighbor. Sober him up a bit.”

I followed after Jessica, glancing over my shoulder. Simpson was making his way back towards the man who still looked terrified.

“You sure it’s safe leaving him alone with that guy?” I asked her as we made our way out of the building. “I…get bad vibes from Simpson. He doesn’t seem…okay.”

“He won’t kill him,” Jessica assured me. “I saw how worked up he was thinking he’d killed Trish. He won’t.”

“I hope you’re right…” I mumbled.

“I’m just going to tell Trish what’s going on, she can get Simpson out of here,” Jessica said as the van came into view. “We’ll grab a cab back to my place.”

I sighed, watching as Jessica headed over to the blonde sitting in the van. Trish perked up when she spotted us but she still looked upset. When she’d regained consciousness she’d done nothing but beat herself up for passing out after a single tase.

“I hope your plan works, Jessica,” I mumbled to myself.

#matt murdock x ofc #matt murdock x oc #daredevil x oc #matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock fanfic

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becca-alexa · 1 year

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Ride the Lightning

Chapter Seven: The Boy with the Thorn in His Side

Read on AO3!

01 ┋ 02 ┋ 03 ┋ 04 ┋ 05 ┋ 06 ┋ 07 ┋ 08 ┋ 09 ┋ 10 ┋ 11 ┋ 12 ┋ 13

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Original Female Character

Summary: After a misunderstanding between Eddie and Veronica, will he be able to explain himself?

Word Count: 2.3K

Content Warnings: [N/A]

Author's Note: huge massive thank you to @rollforhellfire for reading this for me your help with this is invaluable and I love you so much for it 🥺💗

The manic-inducing tick, tick, ticking of the analog clock hung above the door echoed through the classroom, a hellish metronome keeping time to the dronings of Mr. Higgins and his lackluster explanations of the mechanics of the American Civil War. Half of the students present were long since asleep, spared from the endless comparisons to modern-day events and ill-timed jokes that fell uncomfortably flat.

Seated toward the back of the room, Eddie tried his damndest to keep focused on what the man was saying, the pencil in his hand working furiously, several pages of his notebook already filled with haphazardly-scribbled notes. He hadn’t realized that his tongue had poked through his pressed lips, that his leg was bouncing wildly enough to wake the student beside him. Still, he was probably the only person in that classroom sparing Mr. Higgins the light of day.

“Psst!”

Eddie bore no mind to the sound coming from somewhere behind him, certain it couldn’t have been for him - no one in that class had ever bothered speaking to him, anyway. He returned his attention to the subject at hand, flipping to a fresh page as he resumed his note-taking.

“Psssst!”

Eddie shook his head, leaning closer toward his desk, desperate to keep his attention on Mr. Higgins and his monotone voice. The annoying - frankly, jarring - sound continued on, hissing into his ear like a pest unseen, wearing away at his patience, reducing it to nothing more than a single thread. Gripping the stiff plastic back of his chair, Eddie abruptly turned himself around, looking through the students with an angry sort of look twisted onto his face before his sights landed on a girl a few seats away, her vibrant fuschia eyeshadow and hair teased to high Heaven commanding his attention. Popping the gum surely now masticating in her mouth, she nodded toward the back door of the classroom before rolling her eyes, her attention falling back to her nails. From the small window, Eddie was surprised to see… Thomas? He couldn’t think of why he would be there, but as the man waved to him, Eddie was quick to excuse himself, raising his hand to ask to go to the bathroom, barely waiting for Mr. Higgins’ response before he was out the door.

Alone in the hallway, Eddie nearly tripped over his untied laces in his effort to keep pace with his friend. “Dude, what gives? I was taking notes-”

“Gareth.” Thomas replied quickly, his breathing steady as they turned into a stairwell, descending several flights before turning a sharp corner. Eddie was quick to note the hesitation in his voice. “He… uh… called an emergency meeting.”

“For what?” he asked, his annoyance clear. “This couldn’t have waited until after class?”

Thomas stopped in front of a heavy set of double-doors, shaking his head, silent as he pushed his way through, the pair coming upon Jeff and Gareth - and Eddie knew in an instant that something was wrong.

Whatever this “emergency meeting” was to be about, he wasn’t going to like it.

“What’s up, man?” Eddie asked, looking between the two as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “You wanted to talk about somethin’?”

Gareth nodded, his anger poorly-hidden; he looked to Jeff, who only gave a quiet sigh in return as he stepped back, leaning against the wall of windows lining the hallway. Thomas stayed a few paces behind Eddie, not wanting to be caught in the inevitable crosshairs.

“So… You and Windsor, huh?” Gareth spat, tone more than accusatory, his eyes narrowing at Eddie as he crossed his arms atop his chest; as he spoke, he took a step forward, closing the distance between them. “Care to explain that?”

“What the Hell are you talking about?” Eddie nearly laughed aloud at the absurdity of his question - it certainly wasn’t a secret that Veronica had agreed to tutor him. He shook his head, moving his hands into his jacket, spreading the leather wide as he continued, “What is there to explain?”

Gareth nodded, his expression one of feigned understanding - and it sparked an anger in the metalhead long since dormant. “You’ve been spending an awful lot of time with her.”

Eddie felt his temper rise at his words, red and seething. What exactly was Gareth implying? “Yeah, studying.” he said, his voice harsh, blistering with his heated emotions. “I’m actually trying to graduate this year, remember?”

“Oh, really?” Gareth taunted, his smile as chilling as it was crass. “So, what’s she teachin’ you - anatomy?”

And Eddie snapped, hands flying from his pockets, knuckles white as his fists gripped the collar of Gareth’s shirt - he was offended for her sake, his own be damned. How could Gareth ever…? “Shut up, man.” he hissed, his face nearly pressed nose-to-nose with his friend’s. “We aren’t… It isn’t like that.”

Gareth returned his fury beat for beat, pushing him away with a surprising amount of strength, the taller man sent staggering backwards, nearly falling against Thomas. “Tell me how it is, then!” His voice had grown louder, much to the group’s dismay - the last thing they needed was some hall monitor finding them playing hooky and giving them all detention. Gareth stomped toward Eddie, a finger pointed in his face as he went on, “Because you’ve been ditching our practices to… what, exactly?”

Eddie blinked at his words, obviously caught off-guard, not expecting such a question. “I… I haven’t been ditching-”

“We got a gig up in Indy in two weeks, Eds!” Gareth shouted, voice echoing, bouncing around the empty hallway, his hands wild as he spoke. “Do you even know the setlist?”

Eddie looked to Jeff and Thomas for support - for anything, really - but they both offered the same concerned, pitying stare. He couldn’t give Gareth an answer - his silence was enough.

“You got your damn head in the clouds over some chick!”

“Hey!” Now, Eddie was the one shouting, no longer caring if they were caught - he’d survive one more detention. “Veronica isn’t just some chick-”

“So, you admit it, then?” Gareth asked quickly, hands fisted at his hips as he leaned forward. “There is something going on?”

But, before he could think to answer, a heavy hand set itself upon his shoulder - it was Jeff, who looked at him with an unreadable expression - pain melded halfway with… disappointment? “Eddie, we’re not blind,” he said, shaking his head, his tone serious, eyes colder than he’s ever seen. “And we sure as Hell aren’t stupid.” His hand fell back to his side as he let out a weak sigh. “C’mon, man… It feels like we haven’t seen you in weeks.”

The sound of a door opening, of faint footsteps echoing atop the scuffed linoleum floors, went ignored by the four of them.

Eddie scrubbed a hand over his tired face, his shoulders falling, body suddenly exhausted by the topic at hand. “I-I know… It’s just… It’s been hard-”

Gareth scoffed at his admission. “Oh, I bet it has.”

“Dude, quit it-” Thomas interjected.

“You spend all your time with her.” Gareth slowly circled Eddie, his steps loud and sharp, making the older man wince. And Eddie couldn’t deny what he was saying, because he did spend most of his time with Veronica nowadays - if he wasn’t at Hellfire, it was almost certain he’d be with her. “Must be nice…”

“Hey, I don’t have a choice-”

“Oh, you don’t?” Gareth's voice rose an octave, a poor imitation of surprise; he’d even batted his lashes at him, just for added - grating, irritating - effect. “‘Cause I think you do, and you’re picking her over us! Over the band, dude!”

Eddie could only shake his head, pulling a hand through his knotted hair as he desperately tried to explain himself. “I’m not picking her, I- Look, Veronica and I aren’t anything.” His voice was firm, deep, his tone leaving no room for misinterpretation - it was clear that he’d meant what he said. “Whatever you’re thinking of, forget it. She’s just my tutor.”

Gareth looked between Jeff and Thomas, still not entirely convinced, his arms again crossed atop his chest. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

The sharp ring of the bell broke through the ensuing silence, its chime marking the end of their conversation. As the hallway began to flood with students, the group parted ways - Gareth, Jeff, and Thomas disappeared into a swarm of bodies, Eddie returning to Mr. Higgins’ class to gather his things, and the slow clicking of footsteps echoed long after the hallway had cleared.

As what Eddie swore to be every student in Hawkins High pouring into the halls at once, he struggled to work his way through the horde, nearly being pushed to the ground as a group of friends barged into him.

“H-Hey…! Hey, sweetheart! Slow down, will you?” Eddie shouted, craning his neck above the crowd, his sights following Veronica as she turned a corner - heading to her locker, he knew. He shoved his way forward, gaining on her heels; she’d been avoiding him all day, and he was intent on figuring out why.

As he neared her locker, he was nearly hit in the face as she opened it, certain that the force behind her swing would have been enough to break his nose. Why was she so upset? “What crawled up your skirt?”

“Leave me alone, Munson.”

Munson? She hadn’t called him that in ages, at least not so… acidly. “Veronica, talk to me.” he pleaded fruitlessly to the metal door, gnawing at the inside of his mouth at her prolonged silence. “You’ve been dodgin’ me like the plague - what gives?”

She still refused to answer him - she’d barely acknowledged he was there, taking her time pulling her books into her bag.

“Did I do something?”

“Take a wild guess.” she spat, angrily reaching for her Trapper Keeper, groaning in frustration as it slipped from her grip, landing near his feet; she’d quickly bent down, picking it up before he’d even gotten the chance to think of handing it back to her. Eddie wracked his mind, trying to think of what he could have done - could have said - to make her so upset, but he came back with… nothing.

He let out a heavy sigh, leaning against the wall of lockers beside him. “Hey, friends-”

And he jumped when she slammed her locker shut, eyes wide and gleaming with anger as she finally looked at him. He realized with a punch to the gut that they were… wet? “Oh, so we’re friends now?”

He shook his head, not understanding. “What-”

“I thought I was just your tutor.”

He hadn’t missed the way her voice cracked, the way her shoulders fell, her brows furrowing ever so slightly as she’d turned away, books clutched tightly to her chest before she’d disappeared past a set of double-doors, leaving him alone.

The chilling rain had begun shortly after Eddie had left school. He’d lingered there for quite some time, still in somewhat of a state of disbelief as Veronica’s broken expression etched itself into his mind, burned behind his eyes. It made his stomach lurch, knowing that he’d been the one to cause her so much pain.

Arriving home, he’d replayed the conversation with Gareth in his mind nearly a thousand times - and each time he did so, it’d made him feel worse. How much of it did she hear? He moved about the trailer mindlessly, setting up the kitchen island for the usual tutoring session, pizza rolls already cooking in the oven for them to eat. But, as the minutes ticked by, Eddie felt his heart sink to the soles of his feet, twisting - wrenching - in his chest on its descent into oblivion.

She wasn’t coming.

He needed to see her, needed to explain himself - but how could he? What would he even say to her? As he began to pace, his emotions beginning to boil over, he couldn’t stand being in the trailer by himself.

He needed to see her, and Goddamnit, he was going to.

Running outside, the freezing rain pelting into him barely an afterthought, he reached for the first thing he could find - Veronica’s bicycle, in all of its pristine pastel glory. Mounting it, he pedaled with a ferocity unforeseen out of the muddy trailer park and through the waterlogged streets of Hawkins; he’d long since lost count of how many times he’d skidded atop the slick pavement, nearly crashing into one of the cars parked alongside the road. He pushed his sopping hair out of his eyes, turned sharply onto her street, the bicycle falling to the ground as he ran through the freshly-trimmed grass toward her bedroom window.

Thunder rumbled overhead, lightning clapping through the sky, and Eddie’s voice barely reached over them both. “Windsor…!!” he screamed, hands cupped around his mouth. He could see that her light was on - that was a good sign, right? “Veronica, it’s me!”

He looked for something - a flicker of movement, the swaying of her gauzy curtains, but nothing came. His hands began to tremble, his mouth going dry. “Veronica, c’mon! Let me explain!”

He knew she was home, knew she could hear him - why wasn’t she listening?

“Veronica, please…!” His voice shattered under yet another crack of lightning. Trails of icy water run rivers over his face, soaking into his clothes, his shoes. Still, his gaze never left her window.

“Please, sweetheart…” he whispered, heart in his throat, eyes burning with the familiar sting of tears.

The light turned off.

It took Eddie a moment to gather his thoughts, to realize he was still standing in her yard, that he was alone. Setting the bicycle at her front door, he’d raised his hand to knock, but it dropped weakly back to his side as he turned away. He’d had to bite his lip to keep it from trembling, his vision blurring, his breathing heavy.

He walked home.

He didn’t bother taking off the wet clothes; he’d kicked off his shoes at the door, and trudged into his bedroom before falling face-first onto his bed, a pillow held tightly in his arms as his eyes clenched shut, his last words mumbled plea that the world around him fall away.

Tag List

@lulukings92 @i-me-mine

#becca.fic #ride the lightning #this chapter is setting up for chapter 8 so it's a two-parter #part two will be up very soon i just need to add one last part #the potential for fluff in a misunderstanding is astronomical and i love it so much #poor eddie but i also sympathize with veronica like what would you do if a dude you'd been hanging out with for months at this point #just says to his friends that he hangs out with you because he has no choice???after he'd asked to be friends?????#absolute soul crushing behavior #even if it is a misunderstanding #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x original character #eddie munson x oc #stranger things

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ceapa-mica · 2 years

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Started: 1.8.2021

Last Updated: 3.5.2024

Total Works: 23

🔞 = Contains Smut, MINORS DNI!

☕ = On Hiatus

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Fanfictions:

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Headcanons:

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#star wars #gehat'ik be aliit #the mandalorian #din djarin #star wars fanfiction #din djarin x oc #the mandalorian x oc #the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian fanfiction #sw #din djarin x reader

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wild-karrde · 1 year

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Shadows and Shades - Part 17 (FINAL PART)

Master List | Previous Part

A/N: WELL, THIS IS IT! The last chapter! I fell in love with this fic and these characters more than I thought I would, and I have had the last page of this written for FOREVER. I am so very excited to share it now with you all! As always, I have to thank @teletraan-meets-jarvis for being an absolutely phenomenal beta reader and friend. These fics don't happen without TJ, and she makes them so much better. SO THANK YOU, TJ! YOU ARE THE BEST, AND I ADORE YOU, DEAR FRIEND!

Warnings: pregnancy, childbirth

“Oi! Out of the way! Can’t you see she’s pregnant? Make room, ya nerf herders!”

Iden bit back the sigh that was threatening to erupt out of her as Wrecker shooed a group of young rebels from their seats at one of the tables in the mess hall. Only one of them dared toss a glare over their shoulder at the massive clone.

“Got somethin’ to say?” Wrecker growled.

“Easy big guy,” Iden teased, patting his arm. “I think they got the message.” She inhaled deeply before heaving one leg over the bench to straddle it. The tables were frustratingly not accommodating for someone whose stomach was the size of an overinflated bolo-ball, but sitting down was something of a relief nonetheless. Wrecker hovered behind her as she lowered herself down, his hands ready to catch her at any moment, and for once, Iden allowed herself to grip his hand as she plopped onto the bench.

I’m really ready for this to be over.

Iden had never understood the ‘beauty’ of pregnancy, never being one to fall under the illusion that it was some magical experience where you just flitted about and then one day a baby for the entire galaxy to fawn over just appeared in your arms. However, even having a reasonable set of expectations hadn’t prepared her for the way her body had stretched and changed to accommodate their child. The nausea she’d experienced the first few months seemed like a gracious reprieve compared to the back pain, swollen feet, weird cravings, and constant need to urinate.

Oh, and she was still nauseous regularly.

“I’ll go get your food and be right back,” Wrecker reassured her before jogging off. She allowed herself to lean one arm on the table, patting her belly with her other hand.

“I’m so tired of this. A few weeks to go still, but I think I’ve had enough.”

She’d never really gotten used to the constant fussing and accommodations. Iden was used to being self-sufficient, almost to a detrimental point, but it had become quickly apparent she was going to have to get used to asking for help. She’d even briefly considered asking Crosshair to wait to tell everyone else she was pregnant until she was unable to hide it, if nothing else but to spare herself the hovering and worrying, but when she saw how excited he was the first night back on Yavin 4, she knew she couldn’t possibly deprive him of that.

Hunter’s mouth had fallen open in shock, Echo had grinned like a fiend, letting out a loud bark of a laugh, and Wrecker had practically started bawling on the spot. Even Tech had looked up from what he was tinkering with to offer congratulations, and then had immediately launched into a barrage of medical questions.

With the slew of varied reactions from his brothers, Omega had been Iden’s favorite. She had walked in in the middle of everyone digesting the news, immediately understanding that she’d missed some piece of important information. Her eyes had glided over to Crosshair, and then to Iden, briefly flicking down to look at her belly before meeting her gaze. She stifled a smile.

Maker alive, she’s picking up on things quickly, Iden had thought. Senna must be pleased.

Crosshair hadn’t seemed to notice Omega’s perceptiveness, striding over to her and resting his hands on her shoulders. “I have something to tell you, and I hope you’ll be excited.” Iden had to stifle a giggle at the way he suddenly got nervous. She knew that he loved the kid, even if he didn’t show it in a conventional way. The two of them had a unique relationship, one that existed more in the quiet space and unspoken words when they were just sitting next to one another, but this moment was different for him. Omega smiled up expectantly, waiting for him to tell her what she’d already figured out.

“You’re going to be an aunt, Omega. Iden’s pregnant.”

Iden had to give it to the kid, she played it perfectly, squealing with excitement and flinging her arms around Crosshair’s waist. He hesitated for a moment before returning the hug, smiling to himself. Omega met Iden’s eyes, and Iden had winked at her, mouthing a thank you.

The months had dragged on since then, and with every day, she found some new annoyance with how her body was changing. She’d been determined to not allow her body to lose its strength and endurance, going running daily until she’d been forced to switch to walking. Senna had accompanied her every day, dragging her out when she didn’t want to mentally go. “This is important to you, and I can’t help you in many ways, but I can do this. Let’s at least go do a lap around the tarmac and we can come right back in,” she’d urged on one of the days where Iden was feeling at her lowest and most frustrated. They’d done three laps before Iden had begged off to waddle to the refresher.

Everyone had been wonderful. Well, mostly everyone. Chuckles, the clone pilot that had picked them up, was still a bit distant. She’d seen him spending time with his two children, a teenage Twi’lek and a young Pantoran. Both of the younglings seemed to have adjusted well to their new surroundings, but Chuckles constantly seemed ready to bolt. Senna had quietly relayed their story on one of their walks, how Chuckles’s inhibitor chip hadn’t activated, how he’d managed to save the two younglings that had become his adopted family, and how they’d been running ever since.

“He’s been doing nothing but looking over his shoulder for the last few years,” Senna had said quietly. “I can understand his reluctance to relax. I just hope with time, he’ll find a place here.” She’d leaned over, nudging Iden’s shoulder. “But I have to tell you, since he may not; he was very grateful that the two of you got Howzer out.”

“They knew each other?”

“They were apparently best friends during the war. He’d assumed Howzer was dead or serving the Empire. When he showed up here… well, to put it mildly, Chuckles was beside himself. I’m not sure I’ve seen a more emotional reunion. When he found out we were going to rescue the two people that had busted his friend out, he was the first one to volunteer as a pilot.”

Iden had smiled to herself. If nothing else, at least we did that much good. She’d been sad not to find the former clone captain at the base when they arrived. Hunter had told her that he hadn’t stayed long. When he found out the Twi’lek general he’d served alongside during the war had escaped Ryloth with his family, Howzer had decided to go looking for them to carry on the fight. She sighed.

“Echo’s brother certainly seemed to have no issue adjusting.”

Senna had laughed at that. “Fives is a different story altogether.”

Iden huffed a laugh. “That he is.”

Fives had hovered awkwardly in the background when they returned, clearly not sure where he fit with these new people. He’d watched his twin interact with Crosshair, gripping his arm in greeting, and Iden had noticed a slight scowl on his face. But with time, Fives had gotten around to greeting both of them, and clumsily, he’d thanked Crosshair quietly for rescuing Echo.

“Without you and your squad, I wouldn’t have gotten a second chance to razz him at any given opportunity,” the former ARC trooper said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“He clearly didn’t tell you what I said on the mission,” Crosshair joked dryly.

“Oh, he did,” Fives replied. “Says you can be a bit of a prick, but you’re really sweet as a tooka. You just don’t want people to think that.”

Iden had burst out laughing at the way Crosshair’s nose wrinkled with disgust.

Nisa’s reception had been far more chilly. She was still unconscious when they arrived, and they’d carefully placed her on a gurney to be moved to one of the few small cells they kept on the base just in case. Every day for the first few weeks she was there, she was only taken out of her cell to be interrogated for hours on end. Hunter and Senna led most of the interrogations, grilling her sister about every tidbit of Imperial intelligence she could provide. Iden had been torn about whether or not to at least listen in, but Crosshair had offered to observe and relay anything important.

“We need to minimize the amount of duress you put yourself under,” he’d insisted. “Let me worry about Nisa. You go make yourself useful elsewhere.”

And she had. With Echo and Wrecker’s help, they’d completely audited every piece of weaponry and equipment on the base. She’d helped Tech repair everything from a squeaky bench in the mess to the Marauder’s hyperdrive, which always seemed to be on the fritz. She’d asked Senna if she could observe Omega’s training, wanting to ensure she could also be as helpful as her brothers if needed. She’d been astounded to watch Omega, the Twi’lek Arni, and the young Pantoran Nita train together. The three of them appeared to have grown attached to each other quickly, especially Omega and Arni, who seemed to have a particularly special bond. Where Arni was anxious and a perfectionist, Omega was encouraging and gentle. Nita on the other hand, was a force to be reckoned with, and Iden adored the spark that burned within her.

I hope my child has a fraction of her fire. That one’s a monster slayer to be sure.

After a few months, Senna and Hunter had agreed to allow Nisa a few more freedoms. She was allowed outside of her room with supervision, and occasionally joined Senna and Iden for their walks. But just because Senna and Hunter had decided to trust her didn’t mean that trust permeated the remainder of the base. She noted that Arni and Nita were frequently nowhere to be found on the days Nisa was allowed out, having been shuffled off somewhere by Chuckles with some mumbled excuse. Many of the rebels would glare in Nisa’s general direction when she’d walk through the mess hall. Fives in particular had been the most upset at the decision to have Nisa on base, and while Iden could somewhat understand why after what had happened to him, his animosity towards her sister still annoyed her. At times, he was a downright bully.

Several months in, they’d been walking through the mess when Fives had approached, clearly pretending to be distracted by something else. He’d dropped his shoulder and rammed Nisa, sending her lunch tray lurching against her chest, spilling food down the front of her and onto the floor.

“Oops.”

Nisa clenched her fists, glaring at him. Fives had returned the stare, seemingly bored with the entire exchange, but his anger and intention was clear. Iden was on him in a second. She’d charged forward, shoving him roughly.

“She didn’t put you in that tube, you fucking mynock.”

Fives stepped forward, glaring down at Iden, and at that point, Echo had reached the escalating situation, pushing his brother back as Crosshair had come sprinting across the mess with murder in his gaze.

“Enough Fives,” Echo snarled.

“She shouldn’t be here. And you kriffing know it,” his twin bit back, his amber irises practically glowing. “She’s one of them. And she went willingly.” He turned to Nisa, his voice raising. “Our brothers didn’t have a choice. You did.” He bumped against Echo, who was trying to keep him at bay while also pressing a palm to Iden’s shoulder to keep her back, shooting a pleading look at Crosshair, who seemed satisfied to let Iden go toe-to-toe with the former ARC trooper.

Senna appeared suddenly, stepping in front of Fives and placing her hands on his chest. Her blue eyes were alight and she was speaking to him in a quiet but angry tone. Iden couldn’t hear what was being said, but it was enough to draw Fives’s attention. He glared at her for a moment before his expression softened and Iden could see some of the tension leave his body. Senna said a few more things to him before patting him on the shoulder and glancing over at Echo, who took his cue, grabbing Fives by the arm and dragging him away.

Senna watched him go before stooping to help Crosshair and Iden clean up the mess on the floor. Nisa’s fists were still clenched at her sides. She unleashed a shaky breath.

“You didn’t deserve that,” Iden muttered.

“It’s going to take time,” Crosshair rasped. “More so with some than others. Although that was underhanded.”

“Fives has his reasons. They’re not necessarily the right reasons, but he’s still healing,” Senna said quietly. “You’re just an outlet for his anger right now.”

“I’m an easy target,” Nisa agreed. “I’m the closest thing to the Empire that he can take a swing at.” She sighed. “I don’t need him to like me. I just need him to tolerate me being here.”

Senna gave her a half-hearted smirk. “He burns a little hotter than Echo does, but he’ll come around. Eventually.”

Nisa sighed again. “We’ll see.”

That all seemed so long ago as Iden readjusted again on the bench, trying to get comfortable on the stiff seating in the mess hall. At least then, I could bend at the waist. Now everything’s an ungraceful squat or waddle.

Wrecker was making his way back towards her, and she tried to hide the frown of disappointment at the rations that she could see on the trays he was carrying. Fucking protein bars again and whatever that sour shit is. They were due for a new shipment of supplies and rations, and she internally made a note to make her way down to the store room as soon as it arrived to claim at least a few choice snacks for herself.

She grunted in frustration as she shifted again, the back pain that she’d been noticing all morning intensifying again, and she gripped the table a little tighter for a moment, exhaling sharply. Wrecker set the tray down in front of her before sliding into the seat across from her.

“Sorry. Couldn’t find the chocolate thing you like so much.”

She gave him a pained smile as the pain finally abated a bit. “S’alright, Wreck. I appreciate the effort.”

“You alright? You look like you’re sweating a bit.”

“Yeah, was just a cramp.”

Omega entered the hall with Arni in tow, the two of them chattering excitedly to one another. The young clone spotted Iden and her brother, and her eyes lit up. She bid a hurried goodbye to her Twi’lek friend before making her way over, plopping down next to Wrecker.

“How’s the baby?”

“On my last nerve,” Iden grunted, shifting again as the muscles in her back seemed to rebel again.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, just a back spasm.”

“She had one a few minutes ago too,” Wrecker commented. “Seems like they’ve been happening all morning.”

Omega’s eyes widened. “Iden… have they been happening at regular intervals?”

“No. Well, I don’t know. My back’s just hurting non-stop, but if I could just get shifted here-“ Iden rocked against the bench again, trying to find a position that was more comfortable. “I had it a second ago, and now… kriff.” She sat back and sighed in frustration. “I’m so ready for this to be done.”

Omega’s brows were furrowed as she watched Iden carefully. She punched something on the comm on her wrist.

“What did you just do?” Iden asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Nothing.”

“You’re a shit liar, kid.”

Wrecker nudged Omega, and the young clone ducked her head slightly. “I… I’m timing your back spasms. You’re far along enough to where… well, they might not be spasms Iden.”

Iden stared at her for a moment before her exhaustion-addled brain pieced together what Omega was implying. “You… you think I’m in labor?”

“It’s possible.”

Iden shifted again, grimacing as another spasm gripped her. Omega punched a button on her wrist. Iden rocked around again, trying to find a way to get the pain to stop, suddenly gripped with a bit of panic. “Th-the droid said I had another week or two to go.”

“I thought you wanted this to be over.”

“Yes, well the thing standing between me and this pregnancy being over happens to be childbirth, and I hadn’t exactly worked my way up to being ready for that.” The pain relented, and she relaxed. “See, just gotta find the right spot. It’s just a spasm.”

Omega clearly wasn’t convinced. “Maybe I should comm Crosshair.”

“No, don’t bother him,” Iden replied, beginning to become more annoyed. “He didn’t take his comm with him this morning anyway. Wanted Tech to fix something on it that had been giving him trouble.”

“All the more reason to go and find him then, don’t you think?” Omega tried again, growing more insistent. “Wrecker can go and I could stay with you.”

Iden bit off a piece of the ration bar, trying to keep her annoyance in check. Don’t snap at the kid. Don’t snap at the kid. She chewed quickly, swallowing just as another wave of pain hit her, and she fought the urge to vomit the foul-tasting ration right back up. “No! No, it’s fine.” The pitch and volume of her voice was rising quickly, starting to draw attention from the few others in the hall. The spasm passed, and Iden struggled to push herself to her feet. Wrecker stood to help her, but she hastily waved him off.

“Iden, they’re coming every two minutes,” Omega said quietly. “Like clockwork. You should at least go down to the medbay and get looked at.”

“I’m FINE.” Iden finally snapped. “I-I just need to go lie down.”

To her absolute horror, Iden felt a gush of warmth between her legs and looked down in time to see the front of her trousers quickly becoming soaked. The rush of fluid continued for what felt like an eternity, and when it was done, Iden was standing in her own personal puddle, mortified. She looked up to see a look of pure terror on Wrecker’s face. Omega was already standing and frantically waving Arni over.

“It’s alright, your water just broke,” she assured Iden. “We’ll find him. Wrecker, get her to the medbay. Carry her if you have to.”

Iden looked down as another contraction hit, nearly bringing her to her knees.

Shit.

---

Crosshair shouldn’t have been surprised by the sheer amount of chaos in the medbay, and yet, somehow he was. A med droid went wheeling past him quickly followed by a metal tray that he just managed to duck as he stepped into the tiny room Omega had led him to. The tray crashed against the wall outside, and the droid tried to utter some sort of what he assumed was an apology, but it was drowned out by shouting coming from inside the room. Wrecker was notably absent, and Crosshair assumed he’d already fled. Iden, on the other hand, was sitting up in the bed in a medical gown that was falling off one shoulder, hair stuck to her sweaty forehead, swearing loudly.

“AND DON’T FUCKING COME BACK WITHOUT HIM, YOU KRIFFING BUCKET OF BOLTS!”

Crosshair glanced at Omega, who was right behind him. She had a hand clapped over her mouth, clearly trying to stifle a giggle. Iden was panting, but her expression softened as he stepped into the room.

“I see things are going well in here then,” he stated evenly.

“I just don’t want to have one more cold, metallic instrument shoved up inside me or poking me,” Iden grunted. “And if I hear one more time what‘isn’t advisable’, I’m going to break its arm off and beat it with it.”

“Perhaps it’s worthwhile to listen to the droid engineered to provide medical care.”

Iden glared at him. “I’m not choosy about whose arm I rip off at this point, dear. Are you sure you want to run that risk?” She readjusted, her knuckles tightening on the sides of the bed as her face contorted in pain. Crosshair stepped to the side of the bed, trying to figure out how to help her, but she waved him off, swearing loudly. His heart clenched at seeing her in so much pain.

“Did the droid give you meds?”

“No,” she snarled. “Turns out, that’s something coming on the new shipment. We are currently fresh out, so I’m just going to have to feel this.”

“Alright, what else can I do?”

“Make sure that kriffing droid brings your brother back in here.”

“Tech?”

“No, Hunter. He and his karking bandana will be so useful right now. OF COURSE, TECH.”

He raised his hands in surrender, looking back at Omega with a silent plea. She nodded, taking the hint. “I’ll go find him.” With that, she slipped out of the room, leaving the two of them alone.

Crosshair pulled up a stool from the corner of the room to sit by the bed. “Did the droid at least tell you how much longer you have to go?”

Iden sighed. “I suppose that’s the one bit of good news. I apparently have been laboring for a while and didn’t want to face reality. It sounds like it won’t be much longer.” Something in her voice gave him pause, he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what. He leaned forward, slipping his fingers into hers.

“What is it?” he asked, and when she finally met his eyes, he saw what was bothering her: Iden was afraid. There were so few times Iden had ever been truly vulnerable around him. This was the woman that had faced down an entire Imperial army and threatened to kill Saw Gerrera in her own living room. But now, he could see it, but he knew naming it would shame her, so he took a different tack.

“You know you can do this, right?”

Iden huffed. “I have spent so much of my life struggling to stay in control, and now, I have to let go and allow my body to do what eons of evolution has prepared it to do, but… it’s still… unnerving.”

He grinned, kissing her knuckles. “You’ve gone toe-to-toe with an AT-AT and just about every authority figure we’ve run into. This will be a walk in the park for you. And you’re not going to do it alone.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I don’t see your body having a complete cramp every few minutes, or were you saving all your strength for the push?” She laughed dryly. “No, no dear, I think this one is on me.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Of course I do, but sarcasm is how I’m coping at the moment.” Just then, another contraction wracked Iden, and she swore loudly as its intensity grew. Crosshair bit the inside of his cheek as she clamped onto his hand. The joints in his knuckles creaked, and he fought back a smile despite the pain.

“What… what the hell is so funny?” Iden gasped.

“I was just remembering the last time you were breaking my fingers,” he said quietly. “In the back of that speeder as we escaped Theed. Echo was trying to set your leg after a blaster had blown clear through your knee. I was quite honestly shocked you were still conscious.”

“I’ve been known to have a high tolerance,” Iden replied, some of the pain clearly starting to abate. He could see her body relax, no longer bracing against the contraction.

Crosshair placed his palm on her sweaty forehead, brushing some of her hair out of her eyes. “I was amazed at your strength then, Iden. I think that’s where things started to turn for me.”

Her eyes glittered teasingly. “What, it wasn’t the fact that you were holding a beautiful woman in your arms?”

Crosshair chuckled. “That didn’t hurt either.” Leaning forward, he captured her lips with his before pressing his forehead against hers. “You’re going to make an incredible mother.”

She cupped his cheek, a tear leaking from the inner corner of her eye and tracing down her nose. “And you’re going to be a wonderful father.”

Another contraction shattered the moment, and Iden braced herself again. “It feels like it’s time. Where the fuck are they?” She groaned, reaching for him again, and he gave her his hand, trying to keep his face neutral as he felt the joint in at least one finger pop.

“Focus on your breathing, Iden. Just a little longer, I’m sure.”

She muttered something he didn’t quite catch, but he assumed she was cursing someone, probably him. “Are you excited to tell them her name?” he asked, trying to distract her.

They’d known the sex of the baby for a while, but had decided to keep it to themselves along with the name they’d chosen. Iden opened one eye to look at him, nodding. “I hope it’s a good one for our little monster slayer.”

He smiled. “If she’s anything like her namesake, it’ll be perfect.”

Footsteps in the hallway drew Crosshair’s attention, and he turned in time to see Omega sprinting back into the room with Tech close on her heels. “I really must stress that a medical droid has more expertise in this area than I-”

“Do you know how to deliver a baby, Tech?” Iden interrupted, any semblance of patience clearly having left her.

“In principle, yes, however, seeing as the majority of my experience was in combat on specialized missions, I didn’t exactly-”

“I don’t care. Get down there and let’s do this.”

Tech looked at Crosshair, who shrugged. His brother sighed, adjusting his goggles and walking over to the supply cabinet to gather some items.

“Very well.”

—

In a matter of minutes and only a few pushes, it was over, and Tech was holding their daughter, rubbing her down with a towel and clipping her umbilical cord. He glanced up from beneath Iden’s knees, smiling wide. “It’s a girl,” he breathed. “Congratulations.” The little girl in his hands began squalling, and he quickly moved to clean her off a bit more before placing her on Iden’s chest. “I will need to scan her to be thorough, but based on a preliminary glance she seems healthy.” As he turned away, Iden gripped his arm. Tech turned back to her, a confused expression crossing his face as he looked back and forth between her and Crosshair, who was smiling with glistening eyes.

“What is it?” he asked.

Iden’s face was covered in sweat and tears, but she smiled up at him, panting. “I’m glad you were the first one to meet her, Tech. I’d like to introduce you to your niece, Kestra. It’s not an exact match on the name, but we plan to call her Kes for short.”

Tech’s throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, his eyes misting behind his goggles. There was no doubt who they had named their daughter after, the former queen of Naboo that had died defending her world, the woman that they all had fought for and been inspired by. The woman that Tech had loved. “That… that’s a perfect name. She’s perfect,” Tech said quietly. Leaning over, he took a blanket from where he’d laid out the supplies, gently draping it over Kestra. “Th-thank you,” he stuttered out, “for allowing me to be here and meet her.”

Iden reached out, clasping his hand and giving it a squeeze. He squeezed back before moving over to begin calibrating the medical scanner.

Crosshair leaned over Iden’s shoulder, taking in his daughter’s face. She had a full head of hair, chubby cheeks, and was smacking her lips in between breaths. Reaching forward, he gently took one of her tiny hands in between his fingers, and her eyes snapped open, looking directly at him. Iden’s breath caught in her throat.

“She has your eyes. I’d know that eye color anywhere,” she whispered.

Crosshair stared at his daughter. “She has so much of both of us.” He realized his cheeks were wet with tears, but he couldn’t be bothered to care. “Tech’s right. She’s perfect.” He turned, kissing Iden, and she reached up to cup his face.

“Thank you,” he breathed.

Iden rested her forehead against his. “For what?”

“For loving me. For her. For all of it.”

—

It didn’t take long for word to travel around the base, and after a few hours, Iden was finally feeling up to having visitors. Hunter, Echo, Wrecker, and Omega had been hovering in the hall, and when Tech finally opened the door to allow them in, they all stepped inside cautiously.

“She won’t break by you being here,” Iden teased. “Come on in.”

Crosshair sat in a chair next to the bed with his shirt open, cradling his daughter in his arms against his bare chest. Tech had coached him through how to properly hold an infant, and after only a few scowls and muttered comments, the sniper had mastered it. Iden had watched the two of them quietly, her heart feeling as though it could burst. She was still sore despite Tech doing his best to make her comfortable, and she felt as though she could sleep for three rotations, but in this moment, everything was perfect.

I never could have imagined what this would be like. Never in my wildest dreams. I’m so terrified, but so overwhelmed with happiness.

Crosshair stood, bouncing his daughter slightly as he stepped towards his brothers, pulling the blanket back from her face. She yawned sleepily before opening her eyes to stare wide-eyed at her uncles and aunt.

“This is Kestra,” Crosshair said quietly. “My… my daughter.”

Hunter placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder as he leaned over the little girl. “Congratulations to you both.”

“Would you like to hold her?”

Hunter looked at him for a moment before smiling and nodding. Crosshair carefully wrapped the blanket around Kestra in a swaddle and shifted her into Hunter’s arms. The sergeant smiled down at her as she stared up at him. “Her eyes. They’re.. they’re ours.”

“Yeah. Yeah they are.”

Kestra met each of her uncles and Omega in turn. Echo was nervous cradling her with his cybernetic, insisting on wrapping his metal limb in a blanket so that he wouldn’t pinch her with a joint inadvertently. Omega held her next, speaking quietly to her and smiling down at her. Wrecker was last.

“Don’t think I should,” he said quietly. “She’s so little. I-I-I don’t want to… to hurt her.”

“You won’t,” Omega reassured him.

Wrecker’s brow furrowed deeper, and he recoiled slightly as Omega approached him. Crosshair took his daughter from Omega, holding her out to Wrecker. “You hold explosive equipment all the time that is far more risky to drop than she is.”

“I don’t want to hurt-”

“You won’t. Now, sit down if you’re nervous.” Iden scooted over in her bed, patting the mattress next to her. Wrecker ducked his head sheepishly before sitting down next to her. He reached over, taking her hand.

“Are you alright?”

“I’ve been better, but not the worst shape I’ve been in,” Iden joked, squeezing his hand. “Sorry I gave you a fright earlier. Appreciate you getting me here. Even if I was swearing the entire way.”

Wrecker grinned for a moment before Crosshair stood in front of him. “Hold out your hands.”

The large clone did as he was told, and Crosshair gently placed Kestra into his massive palms, making minor adjustments to support her where needed. Then he stepped back. “There. See. Not so bad.”

Wrecker was staring down at the tiny life form in his hands, and Kestra watched him with equal intensity before gurgling and smiling at him. “She… she’s not afraid of me,” he said quietly. “Thought the scar and the eye might put ‘er off, but she doesn’t seem to care.”

“Technically, newborns can only see a distance of up to-” Echo interrupted Tech’s lecture with a shoulder nudge, shaking his head as his brother glared at him, readjusting his goggles.

A soft knock at the door drew their attention, and Iden turned to find Senna standing in the door.

“May we come in?”

Iden nodded, and the Jedi stepped inside followed by a hesitant Nisa. Her sister was fidgeting with something in her hands and chewing her lip as she approached the bed. Senna was already leaning over the infant in Wrecker’s arms, stroking her cheeks with a finger.

“She’s beautiful, you two.”

Wrecker carefully started to hand her to Senna, but the Jedi backed away, reaching back to motion Nisa closer. “Come meet your niece.” Iden could see her sister’s hesitation as her eyes scanned the room, taking in all the faces around her. She extended her hand.

“Come on, family’s meeting her first. And that’s you.”

Nisa bobbed her head, stepping forward. Wrecker held Kestra out to her, and she took her, gently cradling her. Wrecker moved out of the way so that Nisa could take his place on the bed next to Iden, and she sat gingerly down next to her sister. The room was quiet aside from Kestra’s gurgles and coos as Nisa studied her carefully.

“She’s got so much hair,” she commented after a few moments.

“You had that much too when you came,” Iden said quietly. “Mom always told me I came in bald as a barren moon, but you had a full head of hair.”

Nisa nodded, her eyes glistening. Readjusting Kestra, she produced the item she’d been fidgeting with, letting it fall from her fingers. The silver leaf pendant dangled just above the baby, and Kestra watched it swing back and forth with apparent interest.

“I think she should have this,” Nisa said. “If that’s alright with you. Not right now of course. I hear babies put everything in their mouths. But when she’s older.”

Iden’s eyes shone as she reached for the necklace. “I think that’s a wonderful idea.”

Nisa nodded, smiling at her sister. “It belongs in your family. This family.”

Iden reached forward, gripping her sister’s hand tightly.

“Our family, Anisia.”

Her sister looked around the room, and to her surprise found warm smiles and nods. She huffed a quiet laugh.

“I’d like that, I think. To have a family again.”

Iden’s voice broke as she replied.

“Me too.”

—

Crosshair sat next to Iden’s bed in the medical suite that she’d been in since delivering Kestra a few rotations ago. It was the most at peace he’d seen her in a while, and he leaned forward to gently brush some of the hair out of her face. Her nose wrinkled at the slight tickle, but she did not wake. He stood and stretched, his limbs popping as he interlaced his fingers and reached upward. He’d been sleeping on a cot on the floor of the medical suite, waking to feed, change, and comfort Kestra as much as he could to give Iden a reprieve, but he hoped that their sleeping arrangements would change soon. Senna and Hunter had told him that they’d found a small store room to convert into a tiny one-room dwelling for the three of them for when Iden was medically cleared.

“Figured you would want some privacy,” Hunter had said quietly, “while you adjust to being parents.”

“And so that the crying baby won’t keep everyone else up,” Crosshair joked.

“You know damn well we’ll all be clamoring to take turns helping out,” Senna replied, jabbing him in the shoulder. “All you have to do is ask, and we’ll be there. You don’t have to do this alone if you don’t want to.”

He had nodded gratefully. “That was never in the cards, I don’t think.”

Now, as he relaxed his shoulders, he turned to glance over at the chrono, noting it was almost dawn, and a thought occurred to him. Turning to the makeshift crib Omega had put together, he watched his daughter stir before opening her amber eyes and staring up at him with wide-eyed wonder.

“What do you say you and I go see your first sunrise, little star?”

Kestra gurgled in response, and he huffed a quiet laugh before carefully lifting her out of the crib and tucking her against his shoulder. With one hand, he typed out a quick note to Iden on the datapad on her bedside table to tell her where they’d gone before he quietly slipped out the door and trudged down the hall.

The base was completely silent, no one even beginning to stir in any of the common areas or the mess hall, and Crosshair was secretly glad. It was a relief to finally leave the tiny room, and he couldn’t explain why, but he wanted this moment with his daughter for himself. Punching the unlock code for the main hangar door, he stepped out into the dim early morning haze. The air was a little cool, and he hugged Kestra closer to his chest, but the infant seemed unphased in her warm swaddling of blankets, cooing away and dribbling into the fabric of his shirt. He smirked.

“Quite the drooler, aren’t you?”

Kestra appeared to agree, giggling at him, and he smiled down at her. Crosshair made his way to the edge of the tarmac before carefully sitting down, cradling his daughter gently in his hands. He knew this wasn’t a moment that she’d ever remember, but it was one he’d never forget.

The sun gently crested the horizon, the golden rays sparkling in Kestra’s locks that were poking out of the blanket she was wrapped in. He still couldn’t believe she’d been born with a full head of hair, and he carefully ran his fingers through the delicate curls. The little girl turned her face towards the sunlight, smiling widely before turning back to stare at her father.

Crosshair stared back at her, committing her face to memory. He knew she’d grow at a normal human rate, Tech had confirmed it, but it would still be too fast, and before long, the baby girl that was staring up at him with wonder and curiosity would be lost to time. His eyes prickled at the thought, and he blinked rapidly, trying to clear the mist.

And thanks to Tech’s treatment, I’ll get to see all of it. A full life of watching her grow. Of watching the person she’ll become. My little monster slayer.

Kestra wriggled one of her tiny arms loose from her blanket and before he could re-swaddle her, she wrapped her hand around his thumb, gripping tightly. A lump rose in his throat as he looked down at her, staring into the eyes they shared. He’d never really cared much for children, but this little girl was his, and he knew that he’d cut his heart from his own chest if it meant hers would keep beating. He loved her more than he’d ever loved another person or thing, even his Firepuncher, which he was certain Iden would tease him about relentlessly, but in this moment, he couldn’t care less.

“All of this is for you, you know,” he said quietly. “The rebellion. This fight. I never really saw the reason for it, always thinking it was a waste of time and effort to stand up to the Empire, but now, I know who it’s really for. It’s for you, Kestra. So that you can grow up in a better galaxy than your mother and I did.” His voice cracked as he tipped his face down, pressing a gentle kiss to his daughter’s forehead before resting his against hers. “It’s all for you, my little star. So that you can have the life you deserve. I’ll do anything to give you that.”

A/N: THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR READING!

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