#oc x commander fox | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tcwmatchmakingau · 9 months

Text

One Call Away - Pt. 1

Summary: Thorn wants Fox to find love, and he’s counting on Daria to make it happen. An unstoppable force is about to meet an immovable object.

Pairing: Commander Fox x Daria Trace (OC)

Rating: G (later chapters will get spicy 👀)

Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 2886

Written to: The Archer by Taylor Swift

Massive shoutout to @deejadabbles not only for taking the first/last look but also encouraging me so much. Wouldn’t have made it without her 🥰

Matchmaking for the clones was nothing like matchmaking for the smarmy elites of Coruscant. The most noticeable difference was the way they showed their gratitude after a successful match. Daria had received expensive bottles of whiskey, opera tickets and even furs from clients. The gifts were accompanied by generic messages clearly written by their aides, and while Daria wouldn’t say no to good whiskey or a fun night at the theatre, the gifts were perfunctory in nature.

The clones, however, showed their appreciation with their hearts. Daria had received flowers clearly stolen from someone’s greenhouse that perfectly matched her lavender hair, gift cards for iced coffee, all manner of fidgets to keep her occupied, and her favorite, new photos of them with their new partners.

Commander Thorn in particular was immensely grateful for his new girlfriend, but when he’d come by bearing a gift he’d also had a request.

“I’m always happy to see you Thorn, but I’m curious as to why you have a knife in my office,” Daria said, eyeing the blade Thorn was twirling around.

“You like to keep your hands busy, right? So you can learn to spin this, and eventually how to throw it,” he replied with a mischievous grin. “Your hands will never be bored again.”

“A bold claim,” she said, following the knife’s movements. There was something alluring about such a dangerous plaything in motion, and she found her fingers twitching in anticipation. “Ok, I’ll try it.”

“That’s my girl!” He brought the knife to an abrupt stop offering it to her handle first.

Daria took the knife and began slowly moving it through her fingers. Thorn watched her work out the best way, as her hand was much smaller than his, and bare. After one minute, the knife was flipping through her fingers quickly and smoothly.

“Kriff, this is really fun,” she confessed quietly. She couldn’t play with it around other people, unless she was hoping to intimidate them, but when she was alone it would definitely be in heavy rotation amongst her other toys. “Thank you, Thorn.”

“You’re welcome, and now for the part where I beg for assistance.”

Daria stopped the knife, placing it on her desk with a decisive click.

“She does not wish to receive heart-shaped jewelry, so go back to the drawing board on that one,” Daria said after a moment of scrutiny.

“Wha-, how did you-?” Thorn stammered. Daria’s uncanny ability to snatch up threads of thought still left him speechless every time. But he was a man on a mission, and recovered quickly. “Consider the jewelry scrapped. I need to bring someone to you. He needs your help.”

Daria’s dark brown eyes lit up instantly. A smile played around her full lips, as she grabbed her datapad.

“You’ve got my attention,” she said with a raised brow.

“Excellent. It’s my ori’vod, Fox,” Thorn said, his face growing serious.

“Marshal Commander ‘Fall in line or fuck off’ Fox?” Daria asked.

Thorn nodded, “That’s the one. He practically lives in his office still, and he needs someone to get him out. Someone that makes him want to take his days off. Someone who he can’t intimidate. Who won’t take his shit.”

“You want me to find someone who’s not intimidated by the most intimidating authority figure on the planet? Possibly in the quadrant?”

“You’re Daria Trace. You found someone that made Wolffe smile. Not a ‘last thing you see before you die’ smile, but an ‘I’m so in love’ smile,” Thorn said, his bright eyes soft and hopeful.

“While everything you just said is true,” Daria conceded. “Commander Wolffe wanted my help. I feel like Commander Fox will toss me in a holding cell, if I so much as suggest he needs my assistance finding a date.”

“But he does,” Thorn insisted. “Just meet him. If he’s hopeless, he’s hopeless. If he’s not, promise me you’ll find someone for him.”

Daria adored the clones, but the way they wielded those big brown eyes was brutal. It was nearly impossible to deny them anything in one’s power.

“Bring him in,” she said finally, caving to Thorn’s masterful tooka eyes.

“Wizard! I knew you’d be up for it,” He cheered. “This means the world to me, Daria. He deserves to live his life.”

“You all do,” she assured him. “I promise I’ll do all I can. Now put on your helmet and get out of my office.”

Thorn shot her a winning smile, and left with a pep in his step. The door had barely closed behind him before Daria was researching Fox on the holonet while she twirled her new vibroblade.

***

Fox never thought he would miss the rules that led all of his vode to keep their relationships under wraps, but then Right to Love set up shop. He now had a battalion of love struck shock troopers, who couldn’t stop going on and on about their new partners, and their matchmakers.

Everywhere he went it was:

“Tarsi changed my life.”

“I owe Yen everything.”

“Daria is a miracle worker.”

Daria Fucking Trace. She was Thorn’s favorite, and he’d been bugging Fox to come and meet her ever since his first date with his now girlfriend. Every three to five business days, he’d be back at it again. Fox loved seeing his brothers happy, and thriving. Especially Thorn, even though he was testing Fox’s patience.

Fox had made the mistake of saying Thorn’s lunch looked tasty, and he’d eagerly explained his girlfriend made it for him, and Fox could have homemade lunches with love notes too, if he would just meet Daria.

“Look, Fox, I know you’re very attached to your nocturnal, work is my life persona, but we’re free men now,” Thorn said before biting into his lunch, humming with joy at the taste. “We deserve to be happy. Especially you, vod.”

“Free or not, we still have a job to do. One of us has to stay focused, so the rest can go off with pretty nat borns,” Fox countered, sipping on an iced caf.

“You should be out with pretty nat borns too. Why are you punishing yourself?”

“I’m not punishing myself. I’m just too busy for a relationship. Someone has to keep this place in order. As Marshal Commander,” Fox began.

“As Marshal Commander,” Thorn mocked with an exaggerated voice. “Just go with me to meet her. If it doesn’t work, I’ll kriff off. But if she can find you a nice young woman or man to get the stick out of your ass…”

“Will you leave me the kriff alone if I say yes?” Fox demanded.

“Yes! For a time.”

“And I won’t have to hear about Daria Trace for the next 30 rotations minimum?”

“Sure thing…but you’ll go?” Thorn looked so excited, even Fox felt himself melting a little. His soft spot for Thorn would never harden it seemed.

“Fine. Set it up.”

“YES!” Thorn cheered before taking a victorious bite of his lunch, grinning as he chewed.

***

Daria waltzed to the lobby promptly at 1259 hours, and found Blizzard obsessively straightening his desk.

“What are you doing, Blizz?” She asked with barely concealed amusement.

“The Commander Fox is coming here. I just want everything to be perfect.” He leaned closer and offered in a conspiratorial whisper, “He’s so kriffing cool. Total badass. I’m equally terrified and in awe.”

“Is that so?” Daria asked with a grin.

Blizzard nodded, and opened his mouth to say more, but at 1300 hours on the dot the door was opening to admit Commander Thorn with Commander Fox in tow.

Thorn always brought wonderful energy into any space, and Daria found his presence comforting if a bit wild.

Fox’s energy was an entirely different story. Contained, but utterly commanding with the fiercest protective intent. She couldn’t focus on anything else no matter how she tried, but the part that surprised her was the blissful feeling of being utterly secure. Safe. Relaxed.

Her constant desire to fidget was quelled. Her fingers rested in her pockets. Her weight held in place rather than shifting. Her heart was steady, calm.

Is this what other people feel like all of the time? Daria thought, offering a dazzling smile to the pair of commanders.

Thorn, never being one for ceremony, scooped Daria up into a bear hug, squishing her against his armored chest until she wheezed in protest.

“I’m happy to see you too,” she coughed out, as he placed her back on her feet.

“I forget how tiny and soft you are,” Thorn said as though he was amused.

“Scientists and therapists under 5’7” aren’t known for breeding kids of the blaster-toting, knife-gifting variety,” Daria said, lifting one expertly arched brow.

“It’s ok, Daria, we can’t all be perfect,” Thorn said, pulling his helmet off, and shaking his curls free. “This is Commander Fox. Fox, this is Daria Trace. The miracle matchmaker.”

“Is that what you’ve been telling people about me?” Daria asked, her face warming up instantly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Commander. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“I’m sure my exploits were greatly exaggerated. Especially coming from my dear little brother,” Fox said, his tone bored, and drier than Tatooine.

Oh this will be fun. Daria thought.

“Well, I’ll let you do your thing, and find Fox a wife or a husband. He’s not picky,” Thorn said with a smirk. “He can’t be with that face.”

The modulator did nothing to hide the sigh of sheer exhaustion from Fox.

“You have the same…clone humor. I should have expected nothing less from you,” Daria said with a soft laugh.

“Don’t indulge him,” Fox said tilting his head at her disapprovingly.

“Sorry. Follow me,” Daria said, with a laugh.

Fox followed the matchmaker down the hall. Everything about her said she’d never followed a rule in her life. From her mismatched earrings to the way she walked like there was music playing only she could hear. The mischievous sparkle in her eyes, the way her rich voice wrapped around the word Commander like the concept of authority amused her. It was completely unsurprising that Thorn was fond of her.

Reaching her office, Fox scanned the room quickly. A wall devoted to her successful matches no doubt, as he saw several of his brothers’ faces, including Thorn and Wolffe. There were a number of small toys scattered across Daria’s desk. Fox counted 10. Some brightly colored, some durasteel, and before she could stash it in a drawer…

“Is that a vibroblade?” he asked, folding his arms, as he took a seat at her desk.

“Gift from Thorn,” she said, closing the drawer where she kept the weapon turned fidget toy.

“Don’t cut yourself with it,” Fox said. “It’ll be a mountain of paperwork when you have to explain to a doctor how a matchmaker got stabbed with a vibroblade.”

“Don’t lose sleep over it, Commander,” Daria said, whipping the knife out of the drawer and spinning it quickly through her fingers while keeping her eyes on his visor.

“How long have you been practicing that?”

“Every free moment for 3 rotations,” she confessed.

Fox shook his head. That tracked.

“You didn’t come all the way here to discuss my knife skills. You need a date.”

“I’m only doing this to get Thorn off of my ass,” Fox said, folding his arms, and sitting back in the chair across from Daria.

“Ah so you’d like to hang out in my office, kill an hour, and then go back and pretend I’m a fake?” Daria asked, with a raised brow.

“Something like that.”

Daria laughed, and Fox noted the sound was pleasant, infectious. “Nope. My professional reputation is as sparkling as your service record, Commander.”

“Please. This is guess work at best,” He argued.

“Oh yeah? Try me.”

“How?” He asked.

“Talk to me.”

“That’s what I’m doing now.”

Daria released a sigh, and fixed him with a look. “I mean about something real like why Thorn is so invested in your love life.”

“Because he’s a nosy little brother. As an only child, you wouldn’t know about that,” He said, relaxing his arms, as he made himself comfortable. He was disappointed when his revelation was met with a satisfied little grin instead of surprise.

“I hope you found something more interesting than that in my background check,” She said, placing her elbows on the desk, and resting her chin on her crossed fingers.

“Perhaps. I’d never show all of my cards right away, Trace,” He said with a light shrug. “And neither would you.”

You wanna play hardball, let’s play. She thought.

“Ok, you think I'm a fraud; I think you’re afraid.”

The lightest shift in energy in the room told Daria she’d struck a nerve.

“What makes you think that?” He asked, keeping his voice professional and even.

“A very long list of things that I couldn’t get through with 2 full rotations devoted to you, so let’s split my lunch, Thorn’ll think we did the whole thing, and you can go back to pretending you’re happy.” Reaching into her bottom desk drawer, Daria pulled out her lunch, and set about portioning out half for Fox.

“Here,” She said, passing him half of her pasta, and half of a large pastry.

He’d been on the verge of declining and walking out, but he was absolutely starving, and it looked so delicious. Especially the pastry. His sweet tooth wouldn’t let him say no. He accepted the food, and watched as Daria got comfortable in her chair, one leg tucked beneath her, as she started eating.

There was a light hiss, as Fox unsealed and removed his helmet. He was acutely aware of the matchmaker’s gaze, as she took in his features. He could hear her mentally noting the differences between him and his brothers. The scar on his nose, his curls held back by a red headband, the dark circles under his eyes.

He shoved a forkful of pasta into his mouth, and resisted humming in pleasure. Of course it’s delicious. Perfect. He thought, annoyed.

“Good?” She asked, swallowing her current bite, and looking hopeful.

“Yeah,” He confessed. “I don’t really make time to cook.”

“I’d be more surprised if you did.”

They continued to eat in a surprisingly companionable silence until Fox bit into the pastry. Fuck, ok. He thought.

“I’m not pretending I’m happy,” he blurted out before taking another bite of the fluffy treat.

“I didn’t peg you for a liar, Commander.”

“I’m not lying,” He shot back, brow furrowed.

“You were bred for war, told you’d see the stars, and got stuck in this corrupt skughole,” Daria said, twirling noodles onto her fork. “Your life is your own now, but you insist on clinging to what you know because it’s safe, simple, comforting.”

“You don’t have a sense of duty, clearly,” Fox said with a roll of his eyes.

“No, I do. I just also believe that my life is mine, and feeling fulfilled is important. That can look different for different people,” she replied. “Do you feel fulfilled?”

He stared down at his food for a moment. “You’re irritating, did you know that?”

“I’ve heard it a few times.”

After another long moment, Fox confessed, “Maybe coming home to someone wouldn’t be terrible, but they’d have to understand the job comes first. My hours aren’t normal, and I don’t dance.”

“Now, we’re getting somewhere,” Daria said, scooping up her datapad and making some notes while she munched on half of the pastry. “Do you like animals?”

“No.”

“This is going to take forever, if you keep lying to me,” she said without missing a beat as she marked yes.

“How do you do that? It’s exhausting,” Fox snapped, shoving the last bite of pastry into his mouth.

“It’s always been like that,” Daria looked up then, and fixed him in her gaze. “You have a sweet tooth. It’s bad.”

“So find me a baker.”

“It’s not that easy.”

After another hour of getting raked over the coals by the matchmaker, Daria escorted Fox back to the lobby.

“I’ll call you,” she said with a mysterious little smile. “Bye, Thorn.”

“Bye, Daria. Thank you,” Thorn called as she made her way back down the hallway.

Fox watched her go before slipping out of the front door and taking a deep breath once it had closed behind him.

“She’s amazing, right?” Thorn asked, joining him.

Fox pulled on his helmet. “She’s as obnoxious as you without the shared DNA to make it tolerable.”

“Whatever, you love me,” Thorn said, as he donned his own helmet. “Let’s go get food. I’m starving.”

“I already ate. Go take your girlfriend to a food stand, and I’ll see you in a little while,” Fox ordered.

“Sir, yes, sir,” Thorn replied, taking off towards the train.

Alone with his thoughts, Fox wandered back towards the barracks.

Daria Fucking Trace was an absolute menace. There was no doubt about it.

***

No less than 15 minutes after Fox’s departure, Daria was twirling her blade, and flipping through profiles. No one currently in the system would suit the salty Commander, but she was determined to find someone who could make that man smile. He might have been hard on the outside, but those soft insides deserved someone who would cherish him.

#tcw matchmaking au #clone matchmaking au #Coruscant Guard #Original Clone Characters #commander fox x oc #tcw commander fox #tcw commander thorn #oc: daria trace #oc: blizzard #star wars oc #seven writes

97 notes · View notes

sleepingsun501 · 10 months

Text

Chapter 4: Two Truths and a Lie

Characters: Commander Fox, Commander Thorn, OC Keeda Ionza

Summary: Fox could not look away. She wore a perfect, congenial smile like a mask and carried herself with the grace of a queen, but her closed-off, stiff body language made Fox want to throw himself between her and the rest of the room—if only to shield her for a moment to let her breathe.

Rating: Chapter is rated G (Series is rated Explicit 18+)

Warnings: Language, political references, political negotiation

Word Count: 6.7k

Ao3 link

A/N: Welcome to Chapter 4!! It’s been a long time coming, but this is the last of the reworked chapters. It’s probably one of my favorite things I’ve ever written, and I hope you all enjoy it as much as I do.

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Two Truths and a Lie

Fox sighed as the steaming water coursed down his body, ducking his head under the spray and scrubbing the last suds of shampoo out of his thick curls. The heat leeched the strain from his muscles, and a few of his joints released deep, satisfying pops. He wished he had a few extra minutes, feeling the heaviness of his perpetual exhaustion weighing him down again, but he knew he would never get out if he lingered. Reluctantly, he turned the water to cold and let it reinvigorate him.

Two of the very few benefits of being a marshal commander permanently stationed on Triple Zero were private quarters and hot showers. It hardly made up for the multitudes of other issues he dealt with daily, but it was far better than the communal sonic showers his millions of brothers were forced to use in the field and on starships.

Tucking his towel low around his hips, he wiped the steam from his mirror and pulled his razor out from his refresher cabinet. He wished he did not have to shave so soon, rather liking how his slightly greying stubble made him look more distinguished and always set him apart from his brothers, but he had no choice. He had to be as presentable as possible for the gala in a few hours, and he mentally cursed whichever senator had stolen Thire from his post.

Pushing his dripping curls away from his face, Fox slathered his cheeks and jaw in shaving cream and began methodically scraping away his stubble, careful not to nick himself. As he shaved, he mulled over his resentment toward the many senators who seemed to think the Corries were their personal bodyguards instead of elite shock troopers.

The clone troopers were constantly called upon, day and night, to escort senators and other public officials to wherever they wanted to go, regardless of the private security forces that many politicians were already provided with. Even their underpaid aides were not called upon as often as the Corries were for menial tasks—the moment a senator needed to travel off-world or needed a kriffing lightbulb changed, they rang a squad of guardsmen.

The dark circles under Fox’s eyes were partially a result of this constant mismanagement, but they were not as prominent now as he had finally managed to get a few hours of solid sleep after his workout. He had also taken Thorn’s advice about dabbing some dermabacta under his eyes, which seemed to help, too.

Not only was he glad for the dreamless sleep he had gotten, but grateful that he had woken up in his bunk at all. It had only happened a few times–even once being too many for his liking–where he had woken in a different part of the base or deep in the bowels of Coruscant only to realize that he had done something he could not remember doing.

He tried his best not to dwell on it as he rinsed his razor, focusing instead on how he somehow looked a bit younger as his skin became smooth. However, it was a sore reminder of how young he technically was. Physically, he was only about twenty-five, but he felt like he was nearly a hundred on most days because of the mental strain of the blackouts.

Each blackout required him to rewatch the footage from his helmet to see whom he had spoken with, where he had traveled, and what orders he had given, and they all secretly terrified him. He would take the knowledge of what he had done, and what he was capable of, to his grave.

Shaking himself from the dark thoughts, Fox eased a clean undershirt over his head, careful not to muss his freshly faded hair that he had slicked back into smooth waves. The ever-present greys in his once jet-black hair had ceased to bother him, especially because they seemed to be a date magnet on the incredibly rare occasions he took to venture out to 79’s. Absently, he wondered how Thorn’s night had gone with the Zeltron woman.

He smiled to himself as he pulled on his dress greys, fondly remembering a different night when Cody and Wolffe had dragged him to the bar with every intention of getting him laid. At the time, they had no idea their youngest batchmate had spent the past year carefully observing the very politicians he loathed, watching their formal, charming interactions, and quietly putting them into practice. Fox had a woman’s attention within twenty minutes that night, and Cody’s and Wolffe’s jaws had been on the deck.

Part of his charm, he had learned, came with his expression of intention. Fox had never once led anyone on, making sure an unattached night was all a lady was to expect from him. It was not that he wanted to sleep around or that he did not have feelings, but he knew he had no time for a committed relationship—even if it never stopped him from wondering how nice one would be.

He rolled his muscular shoulders in the stiff, heavy fabric of his dress uniform and checked his appearance over one last time, pulling his mind back to the present.

All right, time to focus. Just another big fancy dinner. he thought to himself, tucking his cover under his arm and echoing Thorn’s words from a few days prior.

“You’re fidgeting,” Sareel whispered concernedly as her daughter exited the speeder after her.

“Just nerves,” Keeda muttered in excuse, shivering slightly and smoothing out her flowing, dark green dress. She was glad she had chosen something with a loose skirt that she could both walk and breathe in, as the latter felt rather difficult.

“It’s nothing you haven’t done before. I have all faith in you.”

Despite her mother’s comforting words, Keeda gnawed at the inside of her cheek as she glanced around. The opulently dressed guests were arriving in droves, making introductions and greeting those they recognized with both genuine and faux smiles, la bise kisses, and graceful bows.

Maybe they’re secretly competing with each other to see who can be more generous tonight. she thought, mildly amused.

She detested the number of galas and other extravagant parties she had been forced to attend over the years. In her learned opinion, they were nothing more than expensive excuses to rub elbows with other influential and affluent people. Keeda much preferred to hold private meetings and dinners in order to discuss business or charitable donations, but she knew the one thing the exorbitantly wealthy loved to do more with their money than spend it was to show it off.

Although she herself had never required such grandiose persuasion to donate her own wealth or to work with other various charities, her mother’s tactic was flawless in that regard. Somehow, inviting celebrities and politicians to come for a night of food, drink, and dancing—and dressed in all their best finery—convinced them to loosen their purse strings for those less fortunate in a galaxy at war.

Silently, Keeda resigned herself to participating in high-class society, and she was sure the gooseflesh breaking out over her skin had nothing to do with the chill in the air.

As the daughter of the gala’s host, she started to feel the pressure as eyes were beginning to turn toward her and her mother. The sickening clench of her stomach was hard to ignore as she slapped a practiced smile on her face.

Beneath her long, stylishly curled and plaited hair, she felt Sareel’s silk-gloved hand subtly adjust one of the X-crossed straps on her backless gown before looping their arms.

“You are so much like your father. He hated this, too, but you’ve nothing to worry about tonight, dearest. Just try to relax and enjoy yourself,” she said soothingly, ushering Keeda inside and out of the chilly air.

As they made their way closer to the grand doors of the hall, Keeda spied a few clones in their distinct red and white armor cleverly stationed in the shadows, and her nerves calmed a bit.

Whereas many of Coruscant’s citizens had come to loathe the ever-present shock troopers, she found their presence to be a comfort, more so now than ever before. She wondered if the commander was among them, but before she could dwell on the thought, her mother was pulling her into the venue.

Sareel’s slender fingers patted her daughter’s bare forearm reassuringly as they made their way into the dazzling hall, and the sight stole Keeda’s breath away.

The hall was massive, and the cavernous, arching glass ceiling reflected thousands of fairy lights woven into the garlands and wreaths June had no doubt spent hours setting up. The air was fragrant from the candles on each dining table, and from the same little peace blossoms that were nestled in her fashionably twisted hair. The tiny, softly twinkling lights and candles created a tranquil ambiance that seemed to warm even the darkest corners of the hall, giving Keeda a much-needed sense of calm.

While she looked around, she noticed a familiar, friendly face illuminated by the glow.

“Oh, my dear, Keeda,” Henya greeted compassionately, coming around a large, ornately set dining table.

Keeda grinned happily for the first time that evening as the tall Twi’lek woman embraced her, and the soft fur of her shawl tickled her nose.

“Hello, Auntie,” she replied.

“You look positively divine tonight. That dress does wonders for your eyes,” Henya complimented, but her own striking yellow eyes held a trace of guilt as she pulled away. “May I steal her for a moment, Sareel?”

“Of course, of course. I will find you later, Keeda,” Sareel answered, giving her daughter a quick peck on the cheek and moving to graciously greet the other guests.

As Henya took Keeda’s hands in hers, she could practically feel the emotion rippling off her beloved aunt. Even her long violet lekku were twitching restlessly as she searched for her words.

“You don’t need to apologize for anything, Auntie,” Keeda said, already having some conjecture as to what her aunt was trying to say. “What happened the other night, that’s not your fault.”

Henya sighed heavily, “I am still terribly sorry, my dear. You shouldn’t have had to endure that.” She paused for a moment, looking around before her eyes settled on a rather severe-looking couple taking flutes of dark blue, bubbling wine from a passing server. “I’m even more sorry to say that Governor Gargeli would like to speak with you before the evening’s festivities begin.”

The pit in Keeda’s stomach immediately gave way to a dull numbness that flooded through her limbs. She would recognize Governor Baylo Gargeli anywhere, even without having gone on a horrific date with his son—whose name she irritatingly still could not recall.

Thankful that there seemed to be no sign of their son, she breathed deeply and unlocked her knees to help her head clear. Might as well get this unpleasantry out of the way.

Striding forward with purpose, her father’s voice whispered in the back of her mind. Opportunity lies in the most unlikely places.

When he had spoken those words to her so long ago, Keeda had not fully grasped their true meaning. But now, as Henya led her across the room, her sharp mind understood that the governor was about to ask something of her.

“Governor and Missus Gargeli, may I present Miss Keeda Ionza,” Henya said diplomatically.

While Gargeli might have looked unyielding on the outside, his blue eyes were benevolent. His son had inherited his looks from his father, but Keeda refused to let it unnerve her.

“Miss Ionza, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he said authentically as he extended his hand.

“The pleasure is mine, Governor.” She shook his large hand firmly, conveying her directness.

“It is an esteemed honor to be invited this evening,” he remarked, releasing her to allow her to shake hands with his wife. “Although, I do wish the circumstances of our meeting would have been… less precarious,” Gargeli added softly and opened his arm. “May I?”

Keeda fought the urge to huff in frustration as she was passed to yet another arm. Did people think she was unable to walk on her own?

Despite being on his arm, she steered the governor to a quieter corner of the hall and waited until she was sure the sharp click of her heels on the tiles was no longer audible to the other guests. She paused beside one of the massive bouquets that matched her hair, releasing herself from the escorting grip and stepping in front of the much taller man.

The governor, for all his formal appearance, looked ashamed. “I can see we don’t have much time, so I won’t waste it. I want you to know that my wife and I do not condone our son’s actions,” Gargeli whispered gravely. “Pettri was brought up to be better than that, and I sincerely apologize for any harm that has befallen you.”

Keeda’s jaw tensed as she finally remembered. Pettri Gargeli. That was the fucker’s name, but how does the governor know what happened that night? she thought pensively. Surely Pettri would’ve lied?

The governor’s Coruscanti accent was much thicker than her own, and she had to strain a bit to hear him over the growing hum of the other guests and the gentle classical music that was beginning to play. But he had her full attention as he continued.

“I also wanted to inform you personally that Pettri is no longer living on Coruscant, and he will not be returning. I’ve consigned him to my family’s homeworld, where he will be chastened in a manner befitting his actions.”

Keeda hid the wave of her relief well, only shifting her weight from one hip to the other as she took in the revelation and continued her nonchalant surveying of the incoming guests. It would have been a lie if she had said that she was not secretly dreading seeing Pettri again, even in passing. But now, the weight of that fear dissipated from her shoulders.

“I am grateful for the measures you have taken in resolving the situation, Governor,” she replied with a slight nod of thanks, “but I sense you have more to say.”

Gargeli tapped a finger on his glass rather anxiously as he scanned the room blankly. “I’m afraid I do have another motive for speaking to you privately this evening, Miss Ionza,” he confessed. He swiftly acquired another flute of bubbling blue wine from a passing attendant and offered it to her as a gesture.

Here we go. Keeda thought. There’s always an ulterior motive.

She was far too accustomed to being sought out and patronized for her connections or funding, especially at large gatherings, and she already had an inkling of what the governor wanted. Nonetheless, she accepted the drink to let him know she was listening, bracing herself for his request.

“As you may know, the local elections in my district are not far off.” He paused to clear his throat to emphasize the point he was about to make. “If rumors were to spread, a scandal such as this involving a member of my immediate family would potentially—”

“—Potentially negatively impact your reelection,” Keeda interrupted gracefully, briefly meeting the governor’s eyes again.

Although the smile she wore was practiced and demure, Keeda’s green eyes shone with her perceptivity. The game of negotiation was set with their pieces on the board. All she had to do was make the first move.

He wanted a guarantee of her silence. It would mean Pettri would never be prosecuted, but she could still hope his familial punishment would be befitting of his crime. Keeda was willing to pay that price, but the question was, was the governor willing to pay his side of the cost?

“If I were to ensure no such rumors were circulated, perhaps our agreement could be mutually beneficial,�� she suggested.

An intrigued look crossed Gargeli’s aristocratic face, his thick mustache twitching up in interest. “Name your terms, Miss Ionza.”

Taking a long sip from her glass, Keeda glanced back out across the room, trying to look as casual as possible. “The Terreg Ionza Medical Foundation could do more work in your district if you would consider opening more public spaces to our volunteer clinics and providing security,” she said in a low, firm tone—her throat tightening a fraction as her father’s name passed her carmine red lips. “In the past, our volunteers have encountered significant resistance in underprivileged areas, largely due to threats of local gang violence. Not only would it guarantee my silence, but it would also benefit your constituents.”

With her demands on the table, the governor nodded pensively. “I assure you, my campaign already supports the increased street surveillance in my district.”

A half-truth. Keeda noted. The wheels turned in her mind quickly. If he was going to view her as an asset, he was going to have to earn it. She could not recall Gargeli’s previous campaigns being largely focused on the medical welfare of his constituents, but he seemed to be conceding already. Perhaps a gradual sway of his opinions through the polls would get him to see just how powerful an ally she could be. In any case, she could hear the quiet desperation he held in wanting to appease her, so she decided to use it.

“I see the Coruscant Guard are here tonight,” Gargeli observed as he skimmed over the room, trying to find a convincing argument. “They have been immensely helpful in training new local security forces, so any volunteers and supplies would be well protected.”

Keeda hummed absently as she sipped her drink, allowing the governor one more unspoken chance to enhance his offer. He seemed to take the hint.

“Perhaps my wife and I will become more regular contributors to your charitable foundation as well, to ensure their success, of course,” he added, turning toward her fully.

A wave of triumph surged through Keeda’s heart as she met the governor’s eyes once more, signaling she was satisfied with his overture. Despite how much she hated playing politics, she was rather reluctantly good at it, and she raised her wine flute in a small toast.

“To mutually beneficial work.”

“Hear, hear,” Gargeli replied, a formal smile full of admiration and respect for the sharp young woman before him working its way onto his chiseled face.

With a clink of their glasses, the deal was sealed. Gargeli would open his district more fully to the charity’s work, thousands of citizens would benefit from increased medical aid, and the charity would receive yet another new source of funds–bought and paid for with Keeda’s silence.

“Please, Governor, enjoy the evening,” she said, sweeping her hand with an elegant motion and effectively excusing herself.

Gargeli gave her a refined bow before returning to his wife’s side. Even though Pettri had been a conceited, repugnant individual, Keeda was not going to blame the father for the son’s sins. The deal had been more than fair on her part, considering what she had endured, and she had a confident feeling that the governor would not go back on his word.

Now, she had another detestable task; mingling with the upper classes. She took another long sip from her drink, hoping it would help soothe the new set of nerves making their home in her stomach, and set off into the crowd.

Several people whom she had worked with in the past caught her attention or stopped to chat with her, each offering their views on the latest cooperations with the GAR. Some approved, some did not, and some expressed their admiration for Keeda’s willingness to volunteer, but each tedious conversation seemed to draw on her energy reserves.

Even after dinner had been served—Keeda was eternally grateful her mother had not chosen that awful seafood dish to be an option—and the dancing had begun, she was finding the evening rather repetitious. She did her best to conceal it; however, there was only so much she could take.

Over the unceasing sounds of clinking glasses and light laughter filling the air, blending with the lilting music now echoing across the hall, she huffed out a weary sigh. She wished she had someone other than politicians and socialites to converse with—just someone who did not want anything from her. From the moment she stepped out of the speeder, tonight had felt more like work than the enjoyable evening she had hoped for.

Fox’s heart stuttered against his ribs as his blood seemed to freeze in his veins.

He knew from the moment he saw her that it was her. Blinking away his sudden lightheadedness, his eyes followed her every move as she wove between people, conversing briefly before moving on. They all parted for her, as though she were a goddess among mortals—even more beautiful than he remembered.

“The hell are you looking at, Vod?” Thorn asked, noting Fox’s sudden change. His older brother’s heavy brows were nearly knit together, and his scarred lips were parted in an awestruck expression. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

With Thorn’s voice pulling him out of his stupor, Fox nodded in the young woman’s direction. “She’s here,” he whispered, almost disbelieving his own words.

Thorn studied the crowd from their secluded spot—a doorway to a large, covered veranda—trying to follow Fox’s eye line. “You’re gonna have to be more specific than that.”

“From th-the other night. She’s… uh… Long, dark hair, with little flowers. In the green dress. It’s her,” Fox stammered quietly as his golden-haired brother looked back out to the crowd a second time.

“Oh, wow,” Thorn breathed. He knew Fox had not lied about her appearance a few days prior, but seeing her for himself, he finally understood why Fox had been so taken with her.

He snickered to himself because the Marshal Commander of the Coruscant Guard was currently staring at a beautiful woman like a love-struck shiny after their first night at 79s. “You’re sure that’s her?”

“Positive.”

Fox could not look away. She wore a perfect, congenial smile like a mask and carried herself with the grace of a queen, but her closed-off, stiff body language made Fox want to throw himself between her and the rest of the room—if only to shield her for a moment to let her breathe.

“Well, go talk to her, di’kut!” Thorn laughed, nudging his ori’vod with a sharp elbow. “She looks like she could use better company than these stuffy nat-borns.” Fox opened his mouth to protest, but Thorn stopped him. “Go. You’d be shocked to know the boys and I can survive without your constant vigilance.”

Seeing her stealthily step out another door on the opposite side of the hall and onto the wrap-around veranda, Fox nearly sprinted out the door beside him—with no thanks to a playful swat on the ass from Thorn. It felt like his heart was about to jump through his nose as he quickly strode to where she had withdrawn.

Okay… okay… What am I gonna say to her? he rambled internally. Just ask her how she is, yeah? Ask her if she’s all right. No, why would she be all right? It’s only been a few days since… No, don’t bring that up unless she does. Just tell her… tell her she looks nice. She’d like to hear that. Right? Fuck. Fuck, I am an idiot. I did not think this through!

Nevertheless, his feet propelled him forward. He paused and pressed his back against the cool alabaster wall just before turning the final corner of the building. Fox had never had any issues talking to women before, so why was he so unexpectedly flustered now? Straightening his spotless uniform, he blew out a long sigh, puffing his cheeks and clenching his fists.

Pull yourself together, Fox. You’re a kriffing Marshal Commander. You can do this.

The muffled silence was a welcome relief as Keeda stepped out of the hall. Taking a heady gulp of the chilly night air, she did not mind the goosebumps that broke out over her exposed skin as she rested her hands against the sleek metal railing. It was too cold for anyone else to want to follow her, and she needed a moment to recollect herself.

The crowds had begun gathering around to watch those waltzing about on the dance floor, and stronger liquor had begun flowing as a medley of desserts was served, but Keeda had opted to let Coruscant’s skyline dazzle her for the thousandth time instead.

Letting her eyes drift shut, she tried to savor the quiet moment and soak up the soft warmth radiating from the outdoor heater beside her. She could still see the twinkling fairy lights all around her from behind her eyelids, and she watched as they played across her blinded vision. If she had a blanket, she would have been content to stay right there until the sun rose.

Tomorrow, there would be no skyline–only the swirling blue and silver streaks of hyperspace, whisking her off to a war-torn world to deliver medical relief supplies, and she was eager for it. Like she had told June, Coruscant would always be home, but she needed to get away for a while.

She mentally grumbled as her moment was interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps that ceased a few yards behind her. She half expected to find yet another aristocrat asking her to dance when she opened her eyes, but she was shocked to her very core when she looked over her shoulder.

Him. It was him. The clone commander that had come to her aid.

Keeda felt her eyes widen in surprise as he gazed at her. He was clean-shaven now, and his tussled, greying curls had been elegantly styled back, but his umber eyes still glimmered in the lights with the same care and warmth he had shown her just a few nights ago.

“You,” she breathed without thinking. Immediately, she cursed her impropriety and stumbled over her words. “I’m s-sorry. I-I meant—”

“It’s you,” he echoed softly, stepping closer. The commander cracked a roguish, bright smile—his mouth pulling a touch more to the right because of the scar on his bottom lip. “You look lovely tonight.”

“Thank you,” she replied, and she was powerless to stop the blush creeping up her cheeks. She could tell he was trying to put her at ease, and she could not help the little grin that broke over her painted lips.

“I never expected to see you here,” he chuckled. His voice was low and gravelly, and his eyes never left hers. “I’m glad to see you.”

“You’re too kind, Commander. If I’m being truthful, though, up till now, I’d have rather been elsewhere.”

“Really?” he asked curiously, crooking an eyebrow and tossing his gaze back into the hall for a moment. “Even with all these fine, upstanding, utterly boring people here?”

There was a hint of sarcasm in his voice, and Keeda instantly relaxed despite the draft blowing across the veranda. She surprised herself with the giggle that bubbled up in her chest at his comment, and she realized it was the first time she had genuinely laughed all evening.

“May I join you?” he asked, motioning to her opposite side. At Keeda’s permitting nod, he came to stand beside her, blocking the breeze and looking out over the ecumenopolis.

Even while leaning down on the railing and without his signature armor, he was still so very tall and broad. His hard muscles filled out his uniform, pulling at the fabric and defining his figure, and it made Keeda wonder just how strong he was.

“Are you cold?” he asked thoughtfully.

Keeda shook her head faintly as she pulled out of her thoughts. She felt wholly safe beside him, as though he were an immovable wall protecting her from the cold and from the prying eyes of anyone who dared to look at her the wrong way.

That inkling of guilt she had felt as she was whisked away in the extravagant transport suddenly came crawling back. The last time she had seen this man, he had protected her, but she had spoken so harshly to him. She had feared she would never get the chance to apologize, and she was not about to let that chance slip away.

“Commander, I… I never thanked you properly… for the other night,” she said rather sheepishly.

He gave her a slightly puzzled look and shook his head almost imperceptibly, his eyes immediately coming to rest on her face again. “There’s no need to thank me.”

“Yes, there is,” Keeda insisted, gripping the railing and fighting the urge to shudder as she recalled the past for the dozenth time. “You and your men helped me. Something much worse might’ve happened if you hadn’t been there, and I shouldn’t have been so coarse.”

The gentlest look crossed his handsome, rounded features–one of both complete understanding and consideration.

“You had every right to be,” he assured. “I have no doubt you could’ve taken care of yourself, but I’m glad I was there to help you.”

Keeda toyed nervously with a silver ring on her index finger as she carried on, “In any case, it’s no excuse for my behavior. I hope you’ll accept my apology, Commander.”

He turned to face her fully, leaning casually on one elbow and eyeing her charmingly. “I will, on one condition.”

How can he still look so powerful when he’s relaxed like that? Keeda asked herself, waiting for his request. He had somehow changed the very air around her so quickly that she found herself letting go of the ache in her chest.

“Will you tell me your name?”

Whatever he was doing to make her feel so calm was mesmerizing, but she could also detect a more playful tone in his question.

“The name of someone from a crowd so upstanding and boring?” she teased, and he chuckled so heartily that Keeda swore she could feel it in her chest, prompting another laugh of her own.

“You are anything but boring.”

She pursed her lips for a moment but gave him a cheeky grin. “Ah, but you don’t know that for sure, and I’d hate for you to think I am. So, I propose we play a little game to ensure I’m not. Have you ever played two truths and a lie?”

“Two truths and a lie?” he asked inquisitively.

Keeda nodded, fidgeting with her ring again. “I’ll tell you three things about myself. If you guess the lie, I have to tell you the truth about the lie. If you guess wrong, it’s your turn.”

The intrigued commander cocked a brow at her and smirked. “Very well, ladies first.”

She chewed her lip for a moment in thought, before settling on her lie. “My mother is the chairwoman of the foundation hosting this gala, I had a pet tooka when I was a child, and my name is Alana. Which is the lie?”

The weight of the commander’s gaze was encapsulating. As he analyzed her, she felt drawn into the depths of those dark, stunning eyes, where the twinkling lights shone off little flecks of gold.

“Your name isn’t Alana,” he said finally.

“You’re right,” she conceded with a giggle. “My name is Keeda.”

The commander did not say anything for a moment, but his expression noticeably softened. Keeda was not sure he was going to say anything until he muttered a single strange word, one she suspected was not Basic.

“Sorry?” she inquired.

“Mesh’la,” he repeated, a little louder the second time, as his cheeks darkened. “It’s Mando’a. It means ‘beautiful’.”

Keeda was certain her cheeks matched her lips with how hard she was blushing. His lips barely moved whenever he spoke, but his clear words had an impact on her so deep that she could practically feel the resonance of them in her bones, even despite how softly they were uttered.

Unlike so many others tonight that had tried to woo her attention with overly-enunciated accents and pretty words, the true sincerity in his tone rang clear. His voice was so rich, like a lovely bass note—deep, smooth, matching the dark brown of his irises, and she suddenly craved to hear it again.

“Y-your turn, Commander,” Keeda whispered, trying to feel for the floor beneath her feet.

He must have had his answers ready because he spoke without hesitation. “My favorite color is red, my name is Fox, and I’m a particularly good dancer.”

Keeda’s conscience came drifting back to reality as she mulled that over. Would he lie about his name, too? she wondered. It seemed logical, and she was normally very accurate when it came to noticing lies, but he could also have been trying to throw her off. He had never looked her in the eye at all, though, choosing to focus on the little flowers woven through her hair.

Sighing as she gave up trying to guess, Keeda settled on his name. “I… I don’t think your name is Fox.”

He flashed that white smile again. It contrasted so beautifully against his bronzed skin, and for the first time, she realized that she was more dazzled by the handsome man in front of her than the skyline she had come out to observe. His mere presence was brighter than any of the lights twinkling around them, and he exuded an affection that quieted any troubles in her mind.

“My name is Fox,” he said truthfully.

“Fox,” she repeated, bowing her head in mock defeat. “You’ve bested me. Where’d you learn to lie so well?”

“You pick up a thing or two when you’re around politicians all—”

As if on cue, he was interrupted as a group of guests came out onto the veranda, laughing boisterously and talking amongst themselves, trying to ward off the buzz they had going with the cool night air.

Keeda silently glared at them for having dared interrupt the peace, but they took no notice. They took their time wandering away, but the door they had opened let a new melody waft outside. It was a slower tune, but just as grand and orchestral as the others that had been playing all evening.

Distracted, Keeda swayed her weight from one foot to the other to the music, feeling the skirt of her dress fluttering around her legs. It had been so long since she danced, and her thoughts drifted back to the last time her father had taught her the steps of several common waltzes in the middle of their living room.

She heard Fox shift and clear his throat softly beside her to get her attention, and as she turned back, she found the commander smiling kindly and holding out his hand to her.

“Will you do me the honor?” he asked, tucking his gloves into his pocket.

“Another truth?” she asked, resting her hand in his palm. His hand was calloused and strong, but his fingers were long and warm as they closed around hers ever so tenderly, leading her to the middle of the veranda.

The crowd had thinned a bit for the evening, and Keeda suspected this would be one of the last dances of the night, but she was glad to share it with Fox. They had the whole space to themselves, and she was no longer aware of any other eyes on her apart from his.

Her breath caught in her throat when she felt his other hand settle around her bare lower back beneath her hair. His fingertips left trails of fire in their wake as they gently grazed her air-cooled skin, but she eased into his hold as he began guiding her down the length of the veranda. The steps he chose were uncomplicated, but she was impressed with the natural skill he seemed to possess as he swept her down the length of the open space.

“You were definitely telling the truth,” she laughed giddily, enjoying how easily they moved together.

He arched his left arm and twirled her out beneath it before stepping in and sweeping her back into his grasp. “Don’t tell anyone, but I have my brother to thank for that,” Fox admitted, slowing a fraction with the timing of the music.

“Don’t you have a million brothers?” Keeda asked lightheartedly.

The man she was dancing with now looked so different from the stoic commander she had first met. A single stray curl had fallen loose on his forehead as he spun her around himself, and he practically beamed at her.

“This one is special. He somehow inherited all the natural dancing talent, so we just copied him. He’s the commander of the 104th battalion.”

Keeda stumbled in surprise, gripping Fox’s burly shoulder for support, but he was quicker and gathered her into a graceful spin to let her recover, bringing her body flush to his as the music crescendoed.

A star could have exploded between them with the heat of their bodies pressed together, and Keeda would have happily melted into it. The unexpected rush of adrenaline clouded her peripheral vision as Fox effortlessly lifted her off her feet, but his arm secured around her waist kept her grounded.

After gently resting her back on her feet, Fox was the first to break the contact—although he seemed incredibly reluctant to do so–to continue leading her through the dance. He could feel the strength of her lean muscles beneath his touch, and he had no doubt of just how capable she was, but here she seemed so precious in his hold as if she were his to safeguard. Her smile, the blooming trust in her sparkling eyes, and the surety of her grasp on him made him feel lighter than he had in years.

“I’m assigned to the 104th as their official volunteer,” Keeda said quickly, remembering why she had misstepped in the first place.

Fox chuckled, remembering himself and spinning her out again just to show her off to anyone who might be watching. “You’ll like Wolffe. We grew up together as batchmates. He’s very stubborn and gruff, but he has a good heart.”

They stepped together again as the music ceased and the hall beside them burst into applause. The other dancers and guests began to say their goodbyes, but Fox and Keeda simply stood there under the twinkling lights, panting together from the exertion of the dance.

As Fox continued to hold her, Keeda drank in the woodsy, slightly spicy scent of him mixed with the fragrance of the flowers in her hair. She could not bring herself to put any more distance between herself and the commander, and she actively fought the urge to lean back into his embrace.

He gently brushed the back of her hand with his calloused thumb and would have been content to stay as long as she liked, but the commlink on his wrist beeped. Still holding her hand, Fox released her slender waist and turned his right wrist over to silence the beeping.

“Ah, forgive me. Duty calls.”

As his fingers brushed over the device, Keeda noticed the knuckles on his right hand were slightly blotched with fresh bruises.

“I… I hope I’ll see you again, Fox.”

He grinned down at her and gave her fingers a delicate squeeze. “Me too. Be safe, Keeda. I’d trust him with my life, so do whatever Wolffe tells you to do.”

She felt a pang of longing as his hand left hers, and he turned to join the other guardsmen waiting in the shadows at the other end of the veranda. How long have they been standing there? she wondered, the heat lighting up her cheeks.

It did not truly matter, though, because her heart stuttered as a deep ache crept into her chest with the blush, and she yearned to be near him just one more time.

“Fox, wait!” she called, and he was immediately before her again with a questioning look on his face. “Please, before you go… what’s your favorite color?”

Although he virtually towered over her, Fox took her hand again and bowed slightly, capturing her gaze once more. His lips were warm and delicate as he pressed an impossibly soft kiss against the smooth, thin skin of Keeda’s knuckles, and a mixture of shock and delight flooded through her body.

Smiling brilliantly at her, he replied, ��Green.”

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Join the taglist!

Taglist: @ariadnes-red-thread @twistedstitcher27 @rexxdjarin @wizardofrozz @moodymisty @ellichonkasaurusrex @ttzamara @nekotaetae @misogirl828 @wild-karrde @kaminocasey @justanothersadperson93 @queenquazar @lucyysthings @baba-fett @samspenandsword @notthatfanfictionwriter @get-wr3ckered @liadamerondjarin @enigmaticexplorer @starstofillmydream @meshlaxbunny @erellenora @corrieguards @the-cantina @briefartnaturewolf @itszerohz @redheadgirl @wolffegirlsunite

#commander fox #marshal commander fox #commander fox x ofc #commander caf #oc: keeda ionza #cc 1010 #coruscant guard #corrie guard #corries #star wars #the clone wars #star wars fanfiction #wip sweet true lies #sleepingsun501 writes #i love fox and would defend him with my life

52 notes · View notes