lia / t-rex⭑.ᐟ she/her . 23 . infp . writer & artist ۶ৎ
hi there! welcome to my blog :) i post/reblog nsfw & 18+ content on here, so minors please go away! i mainly write for star wars but dabble in the rings of power too. oh and i do art sometimes [comms are open!]. no rules here except be kind or leave! ☆
last oneshot -> stray, tbb tech x fem!reader
current wips -> angel of small death, strange weather
summary: tech comes to find you after a tough mission in an attempt to soothe your worries
tags/warnings: emotional hurt/comfort, lil bit of angst, friends to lovers, idiots in love (as alwayssss), self-critical reader, neurodivergent tech!
a/n: i've been working on this a stupid amount of time omg. I keep accidently turning everything into a long fic and i'm trying not to lmao
word count: 4.6k
The silver light of the moons gleams upon your skin as you sit looking out across the lake. The planet you've landed on to lay low for a while is beautiful, lush grass plains and vast bodies of water covering its surface, and thus far no creatures have displayed anything more than curiosity at your intrusion. The reflection of the two crescents glitters across the surface of the water, and you watch the way the light dances from where you sit cross-legged atop a large, flat rock. It's still, as if the scene before you is just a holo you took and are now looking back on fondly.
It should be hard to feel unsettled in a place like this, but you still manage.
A mission gone sideways, a mark mismanaged and lost, lives at risk — your own chief among them. As per usual, it was your fault. You've been with the Batch long enough that you shouldn't be a liability anymore, but you still find yourself always getting in the way if things. If measuring all of your blunders on a scale, this time wouldn't even be among the worst, but something about it is sending you over a precipice, lurching you towards realising the uncomfortable things you've tried to ignore all this time.
Because the truth is, maybe you aren't cut out for this life. Maybe all the planet hopping, running from the Empire and barely scraping by is just some kind of pipe dream that you can't make yourself fit into no matter how you try. Hell, Omega is a child and she carries it better than you. You joined their small crew on the basis of helping them out, but really, you can't keep up.
And maybe you never will.
After landing on this planet, you took off. You don't really care what the Batch think about it right now, and maybe you won’t have to worry about that kind of thing at all soon enough. It feels like you're at a crossroads. Two paths stretch out before you, and the easier one — the one where you give up and they leave you behind to return to a monotonous life — is more tempting than it has ever been.
Plucking a blade of grass from beside you, you sigh and turn your head downwards, watching as you methodically strip it part, string by string. Fiddling always helped you focus, and right now you're struggling. You can't seem to come to a decision.
The sound of soft footsteps against the forest floor pulls you from your thoughts, and when you look up, you spot Tech crossing the boundary of the forest. He doesn't see you at first, seemingly headed in a different direction, but then he catches sight of you. His steps falter a few metres away from you, and you only realise then, with the tension that the moment brings, that your cheeks are wet from tears of frustration. You hope that with the darkened sky he may not see them, but his expression gives him away. He looks as if his brain has just short circuited. He doesn't know what to do, and ordinarily it would make you laugh, but you're too aggravated right now to let yourself.
“Did you need something?” you ask him, keeping your voice quiet so as to not inject any kind of emotion.
“No. I thought—” he thinks better of speaking as his eyes flick over you, but then he takes another step, “I thought you might be upset”
You don't reply, only turn your head to look out over the lake again. An insect chirps into the silence and you wipe the cheek that faces away from the clone.
“The others insisted you were fine” Tech pipes up again, “they said you might need to be alone”
In the cavern of your mind, a reply comes, that they're not far wrong.
“But I disagree”
That makes you turn back, and you can't stop the way your brows knit together in a deep frown. You want to tell him that he doesn't know what he's talking about, that he doesn't know anything about you and has no reason to disagree with his squad. But that would be lying.
Tech has always had a way of seeing through you. You don't try to make it hard on purpose, but keeping your emotions close to your chest has always felt like a safer way to move through the galaxy. Over the course of your time with the Batch, Tech has been the one to peek beyond the veil of indifference more than anyone. You can't exactly pinpoint why, what it is about him that allows you to so often speak freely, but he manages it quite simply. He sometimes even finds a way to tell you how you're feeling before you even know it. It can be alarming, as much as it's comforting.
You don't doubt that it has something to do with drawing logical conclusions from a base knowledge of your habits and an awareness of how each emotion manifests in you. You find it easier to quantify that way, anyway. The idea that he'd be able to read you for a reason more personal, more intimate, makes your skin burn just at the thought. You don't even want to consider it. You've got your hopes up too many times before, and though you know him well enough now, Tech can be an enigma. It is difficult for you to tell what he feels at any given moment. Much less what he feels about you. Or for you. You try to ignore you own feelings for the most part, which is an unsuccessful venture.
“You're upset”
It comes not as a question, but a statement — and your knee-jerk reaction is to disagree.
“I'm not upset” you say, far more harsh than you mean to. As if it would soften your previous words, you add, “I'm frustrated”
Tech seems to openly contemplate the claim, tilting his head, “I do not believe those emotions are mutually exclusive”
You huff, almost a chuckle, and Tech dares to take another step closer. His hand flexes at his side, and he blinks a few times before he deigns to speak again.
“Would you like for me to go?”
The question pulls at your chest. It isn't spoken with an overwhelming amount of emotion, but there's an undertone of desperation that you've not heard from him before. You've never been this vulnerable in front of him, or really anyone, curled up on a rock and unable to stop the steady flow of tears down your cheeks. You wonder if he knows the depth of your distress from just the exterior, of the thoughts that swirl in confusing, unending patterns beneath the surface.
The problem now is that Tech likes to fix things, and he's good at it. You briefly wonder how he'd react if you told him that this may be something he cannot mend. You don't want him to leave really, you want him to stay with you and convince you there’s nothing broken to begin with. That is far too difficult and humiliating to say, however.
You can see he's already somewhat out of his depth, and right this second you don't have the capacity to be anything but blunt. After all, if it had been anyone but him, you would have told them to kriff off the moment they stepped out of the forest.
“You can go” you reply, and you realise it doesn't exactly answer his question.
Tech gives you a funny sort of look, like he's not yet sure what you mean to say. He steps back eventually, hesitant, and turns to leave — though before he's turned away fully he's already facing you again, brows drawn in a frown.
“Are you certain?”
An enervated sigh leaves your lips, because now given the opportunity for his company a second time, you can't stand to pass it up.
“Just— sit down” you sigh forcefully, turning outwards toward the lake in a cold sort of invitation for him to do the same in the space next to you.
Tech tentatively walks the final steps and takes his seat next to you, the plastoid of his armour scraping against stone. It's quiet for a long moment, but you can feel his eyes on you. Breaking the silence feels daunting, and you wouldn't know what to lead with even so. You can't make sense of your mind enough to speak it aloud.
“I don't want to misdiagnose the problem here” Tech says, his voice measured and quiet, like he's afraid you'll turn heel and leave any moment.
“You won't” you reply. Your voice is irritated, a little surly, and it's because you know him, and he knows you, so you know what he'll say next.
“Every one of us makes mistakes from time to time” he asserts plainly, “even me”
You scoff at his self-certainty, however founded it might be.
“No one seems to do so with the frequency that I do, though”
“Why does that matter?”
The question is innocent enough, but your whole body turns towards him, scandalised.
“Why would it not matter?” you ask, and you can't seem to stop the flow of words once they come. “All I do is try, and try. And it's me that screws something up, every time — I put myself in danger, or I put everyone else in danger, I lose the mark, I reveal our location, I use the wrong comm channel, or something else that's equally as stupid. Face it Tech, I'm a liability.”
Tech adjusts his posture so he's facing you, so you're face to face. “You're no more of a liability than anyone else” he claims, “there will always be risks, in the work that we do”
“That's— not the point” you say petulantly.
“Then what is the point?”
“I don't k—” you stop yourself, even though the sentiment has been delivered.
Tech sighs, and it deflates his posture. He crosses his legs to match you, and sets his face in a way that denotes something kinder than you feel you're worthy of. His knees are just brushing yours now, and it's a comfort that you need in this moment, but one you wouldn’t have asked for. You wonder if he knows that.
“What is it exactly that's upsetting you?” he asks, and his voice is soft. It's a tone he doesn't often employ, and you can't let yourself talk to him as you have been, so spiteful and irritated.
“It's hard to pin down” you admit, averting your eyes. “I just— I'm tired of having to learn as I go. All of you already have these skills, and I understand there's a reason for that, and that things take time, but I can't help but feel like I hold you back. That you shouldn't have to put up with my mistakes. When I—”
Your words run out as you feel Tech's glove against your cheek, wiping away the tears that stain them. Your breath stutters, and you're sure your eyes are wide as they snap up to meet his again. His touch is delicate, and he watches his own movements as if to make sure he's being careful enough.
His hand retracts, viewing you steadily. “Go on”
You take a breath and this time don't look away from him as you explain. “You… you could all move faster without me — be more efficient, you know? It's like I'm a stray that you've taken in and I'm still yet to find my feet. I was supposed to be helping you, but everything I do seems to just be a hindrance. I have so much still to learn that the rest of you can already do so easily”
“We're all more than happy to let you learn at your own pace. There is not another way that one can learn” Tech tells you, brows drawn.
“But… you shouldn't have to” you insist.
Tech's face screws up, and it's an expression that you detest. One that betrays he thinks you're being a fool.
“You are being deliberately obtuse” he says, firm, “I am sitting here and telling you that neither I nor the rest of the team care that you are less experienced than us. Why don't you believe that?”
You go to reply, but then his words sink in, and…
Why don't you believe him?
The Batch have given no indication that your mistakes are anything to balk over besides a general concern for your well being, and yet you've constructed this false image of how they see you; weak, inadequate, undeserving of their time and their care. That's not fair to attribute to them, when you know deep down that it's your own insecurity that brings those notions forth.
But… is there not still some truth to what you're saying?
You've been silent too long, you realise. Tech's frustration has melted away into something more quiet, more affectionate, and the way it lights a fire under your heart cannot be helped. The moment feels bittersweet, and it aches. Because even though you want to believe Tech, and you know that there is a place for you among him and his brothers, you don't know if it's a space you feel comfortable taking.
You sigh, resigned to the fact, and there's apology in your eyes before you go to speak. You wipe your palms on your trousers as they begin to feel clammy, and the way Tech straightens tells you he knows to expect a blow.
And…
You can't do it.
A silence stretches out between you, heavy, awkward, and painful. You suppose that Tech knows where your mind is taking this, what conclusion you're drawing from this line of thought. Even with the knowledge that he sees through you, sees your intentions to leave, you can't say it to his face. Maybe you're just a coward. And maybe that's been the problem all along.
“In case you were interested on hearing my version of events,” Tech begins, his voice quiet but edged with a confidence, “I would say that from a statistical standpoint you have not put us at risk any more than Hunter, or Wrecker. Certainly not more than Omega”
A quiet and watery laugh bubbles up and out of you, always enamoured by his way of quantifying the un-quantifiable.
“We have all made mistakes,” he continues, “I would argue that, where Hunter's mistakes often have some supposed ‘reason' behind them, and yours err more on the side of accidental, that your mistakes are far less incriminating in the grand scheme of things.” He pauses and watches the corner of your lips tick upwards, “and… if it's not too much for you to hear, I believe your perspective is skewed by emotion at the present”
You let out an indignant puff of air. He's right, and you know it, but it's not exactly what you want to hear right now.
“What I mean to say is…” he clarifies with a small eye-roll, “you are capable. And you have improved. You're just— choosing not to acknowledge it. For whatever reason”
You don't reply.
Is what he's saying true? Are you so blinded by your own insecurity that you can't see what progress you have made?
Tech stares are you, his brown eyes earnest in a way that always gives wind to the butterflies in your stomach. He's winning you over even when you're trying not to be. Only he can do that, you realise. It makes your heart ache. No one else could have talked you off of this ledge, even if it's only for now.
You smile warmly and turn to place your boots to the ground once more.
“Come on,” you mutter, bringing an end to the topic of conversation, “let's get back to the ship”
The clone wordlessly joins you in standing, and the two of you trudge back to the Marauder in companionable silence. The forest is humid even after the sun has set, and teeming with life. Glowing bugs flit about, lighting your way and guiding you on your journey back. You hadn't taken the time to appreciate the beauty of them as you had stormed past in your fit of rage.
When you reach the ship, you spot the others sat in a circle around a small campfire just outside the door. Hunter's vibroblade twirls in his hand, a nearby tree shows evidence of having had its branches removed, and the smiles that decorate the faces around the fire are wide. It's a view that warms your heart. You don't realise you've stopped walking to take in the scene until a hand is placed on your lower back. Tech is smiling gently as you look to him, and it doesn't occur to you to find it strange that he knows exactly what you're thinking.
Omega greets you with a wide grin and invites you to sit in the spot beside her, which you take with as much enthusiasm as you can muster, and Tech nudges Wrecker to budge up and takes the space opposite you. None of the team speak of your blunder, nor anything to do with the mission, only how they'll move forward from this point. Other than that, conversation is light, and happy. There's talk of memories of missions past, both from your time with them and from before you, with injections from Tech that give a more factual account of events. Wrecker, as always, tells him not to let the truth get in the way of a good story, but Tech hasn't ever fully grasped that concept. You try to keep your exceptionally fond smile secret, but Hunter catches it and raises a brow at your expense. You know he knows how you feel for his brother. There’s no hiding anything from that man.
It's all so normal. So simple. You do have a place here, even if your brain tells you otherwise in moments of weakness. But somehow, it's still shadowed by melancholy. You can't pinpoint what makes it feel that way, but you try not to dwell on it.
As the firelight dies, members of the team begin to peel off. Hunter goes with Omega first, who’s resting a weary head on your shoulder and still arguing that she’s not tired when being practically carried off to bed. Wrecker and Tech bicker back and forth good-naturedly as you watch on, until the larger of the two also retires with a yawn. That leaves you and Tech, and a silence is left in his brother’s wake. Your gaze is directed to the dying embers, and the lack of distraction leaves space for your mind to wander once more.
“You are still considering leaving, aren't you?”
Tech’s voice is almost a whisper, and there’s an emotion you don’t recognise hidden beneath it. Your eyes raise to meet his gaze and that emotion does not become any more known to you. Everything about him seems wound tighter than it should be, too rigid.
“I…” you begin, but realise you don’t have an answer.
His brows draw together in the quiet. He shakes his head a few times, slowly, and he looks away to the ground beside him. His jaw is set and his lips turned down. He’s clearly upset, in some way — but this specific type of upset is foreign to you, still undecipherable.
“Look…” you begin unsurely, “I just think it might be better if I—”
“No”
The word is absolute, unyielding, and it surprises you.
“No?” you question, and a disbelieving scoff worms its way out of you.
“You can't just… leave” he states, and though his teeth grind, he's still quiet as he repeats, “you can't”
“I can't?” this time you practically laugh, and when Tech finally meets your gaze, you realise what’s happening.
He’s not just upset. He’s angry.
You have never seen Tech be angry. Not once. What is most scary about it now, is that it’s not entirely clear why. You can see the way he interprets your laughter too. He thinks it's cruel, that you're laughing at him in this moment. You go to correct yourself, to apologise, but he pushes himself from the ground and starts pacing around on his side of the fire, like he doesn't know what to do with himself.
“I won't allow it” he says, but he's not looking at you anymore.
“You won't allow it?” you repeat back to him again.
He stops his pacing and turns to you, “are you having trouble hearing?”
The question seems genuine enough, but he's being so ridiculous you can't help it. “I think I might be”
Tech looks thoroughly unimpressed. His lips are turned down and he's looking at you like you've wounded him. Your stomach turns at the thought. Is he angry because you’re thinking of leaving?
“Look, Tech. I don't want to—”
“Do not do that” he interrupts with an accusing finger pointed at you, his anger flaring, and rolls his eyes when you have the nerve to look confused. “If you did not want to leave then you would not”
“Tech—” you begin, standing to walk towards him in an attempt to calm him, but he talks over you, resuming his pacing, before you can get the words out.
“You cannot just leave because it’s difficult. That's not right. That's not how things work, and that's not you” he assesses, shaking his head. His hands tighten to fists at his sides, and you realise you've never seen him be so worked up before, if at all.
“Tech, please—”
“No” he whirls on you and steps closer, “do you even—”
“Tech. Listen to me” you raise your voice ever so slightly, still soft enough not to wake those in the ship nearby. His words come grinding to a halt, and his mouth forms a straight line. “I was only thinking about it, okay?”
“How can you even entertain it?”
You level him with a look, squinting as if he's a puzzle you can't figure out. “I can't understand why it's so out of the question”
“Because it— it's that…”
You've never known him trip over his words before.
This new image of him is confusing you. The fact that he’s angry with you is sickening, and not giving a justification for it is so absurdly unlike him.
“Tech—”
“No” he says for what feels like the tenth time, but in this instance he turns and starts walking away.
You hiss his name again but he continues on towards the forest so that you’re forced to follow, struggling to catch up with his wide gait. It’s even darker now, fewer of the glowing bugs to light the path, and if you’re not careful you could lose him. You eventually manage to scramble in front of him with some effort. He stops in his tracks with an almost comical halt so as to not bump into you, and you catch his wrists when he goes to leave again.
“Stop this” you urge, gripping his wrists tighter when he protests, “talk to me”
Tech’s grimace tells you that he’s resistant to the idea.
“Why do you want to leave?” he asks, and while it’s not what you wanted from him it’s more welcome than the staunch dismissal of the last few minutes.
“I—” you huff, and let go of him so his hands hang limply at his sides, “I don’t know. I don’t know if I’m really cut out for… all this”
“That’s ridiculous”
“Is it?”
His frown deepens further, and he doesn’t give an answer. “You could walk away from us that easily?”
“Well, no. I—”
“You haven’t considered how that might upset the others?” he says, and his voice raises the more he goes on, “Omega would be distraught. As would Wrecker. Hunter would hold it together because that is his way, but I know without doubt that losing another member of our squad would hurt him beyond measure. We cannot afford to lose anyone else!”
The ghosts of those missing squad members rest heavy in the sudden quiet. You've never known Crosshair, not as an ally at least. Tech rarely speaks about him and when he does it's detached, like he can't afford to look beyond the facts of what happened. You do know Echo, however. He is someone you grew close to, and the hole in your chest caused by his leaving stings anew as you're accused of following in his footsteps.
Tech is right. Of course he is.
Causing that pain in someone else is too much to even begin to consider. Thus far you'd only been looking at it from your perspective. Your own self-deprecation had caused you to be entirely selfish, as it turns out.
“Why are you shouting?” you ask him softly.
“Because I want for you to stay with me!”
His exasperation gives you pause. His turn of phrase is so specific that it all clicks into place at once. Your eyes widen in realisation.
He does return your affections.
Tech likes you.
Usually you wouldn't be so bold in assuming such a thing but you know you're on the money when his own eyes widen to match yours, knowing he's exposed something he didn't intend to.
“I— us! To stay with us” he groans and digs the heels of his palms into his temples, closing his eyes and giving into frustration, “forgive me for being upset that you would abandon me so readily for— agh! Abandon us! All of—”
His frustration is almost adorable, but you can’t take it any longer.
Your fingers find the collar of his cuirass and you pull his body towards yours. He stumbles slightly and his words muddle but your lips are on his before he can ask the question you see in his eyes. He doesn't react immediately, and for that second you fear that you've miscalculated. He's frozen, and you're about to pull away, but then you feel the tension in him unwind.
He melts into it slowly, gaining more confidence by the second. His hands raise to frame your face, bringing you even closer and tilting your head to deepen the kiss. It isn't too hurried, nothing like his desperation from before. Instead, it feels like how a long-awaited kiss should; saying what can't be told with words.
You pull away and look up at him, breathless. His pupils are blown wide, his lips are parted, his chest heaves, and a light blush is dusting his cheeks. You're sure he's never looked more gorgeous than in this moment.
He speaks your name, “what…?”
He's clearly lost for words, and he's looking at you like you might still break his trust and leave after all.
“I—” you try to find a way to consolidate all of your thoughts in one intake of breath, landing on “I'm not going anywhere”
“I know” he says as he drops his forehead to yours, and the corners of his mouth lift into a smile that gives a sense of playfulness, even as you see the relief in his eyes, “I already said that you weren't”
Before you can go to tease him, he presses another kiss to your lips. His thumb caresses your cheekbone and you lean into the tender touch, all thought of taunting leaving you. He is all-consuming, and your mind stills. Your worries fade. The dull hum that seemed to buzz at the back of your brain clears out and things come into focus.
like. what was the empire's beef with maul's right hip specifically? (I gave him a new outfit cause he deserves it :D partially inspired by his TPM look but also not really) and to the @maul-appreciation-week mods, thank you for running this event !!! <3
A/N: writing smut is so excruciating to me omg. like I get through it 'for the plot' but WOW idk how some of you do it so often
Chapter Word Count: 5.4k
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The dark engulfed Howzer, the only light being that of the moon and stars that were littered through the sky as he and Kisku walked the streets of Lessu. A gentle breeze sent leaves scattering over the floor, tickling at his skin and lightly ruffling his hair. The fragrance of Kisku’s perfume was carried to him on the wind — something sweet, understated and soft but with a noticeable presence. It matched her perfectly in that way. He glanced over from his place beside her and couldn’t help but stare.
In many ways, she was the antithesis to him, a reflection of everything he wished he could be. Much of it was given away simply by her footfalls; where his were the inelegant scuff of boots against the cold stone of the cobbled street, hers was the tapping of delicate heels, sounding more akin to a steady drip of water into a lake. Where the war had carved into him hard edges and military coarseness, she was made up of soft contours and political courtesy.
He was beneath, she was above. Him the soil, her the sky. Trivial, and indispensable. These things were true of the place they held in the galaxy, but when he stood next to her, all of that seemed negligible. Their idiosyncrasies fit together to create one picture, one he didn’t think he’d come to know until he had laid eyes on her for the first time. Although, as much as they were different, they seemed to hold a similar space within their separate lives, echoing each other’s values. They were both bound by duty, a duty which kept them from seeking true happiness. And yet, watching Kisku stroll through the moonlight felt like exactly that: happiness.
Kisku began to veer off away from her street, but when Howzer went to ask where she was going, she was already answering the question.
“I've been moved” she told him quietly, a small smirk at the expense of his confused expression.
“Moved?” Howzer probed.
“Mhm”
“Why?”
Kisku shrugged, but the action was more rigid than she perhaps meant for it to be, more tight than her strangely easy-going voice. “It was more appropriate, supposedly”
The clone was no fool. He could see clear as day that there was something she wasn’t saying. Something she didn’t want to divulge. An opinion unshared. Part of him wanted to press, to ask more for once rather than just leaving her to her secrets, but the other part of him knew not to. If she didn’t want to talk about it, it was probably because she was still sore from her admonishments from the senator.
He just let her guide him further towards the centre of the city, towards the courtyard overlooked by the bureau. Facing the government building was one of smaller stature, cut from the same stone and reinforced with the same durasteel panels — an extension of the larger building. Howzer wasn’t one to read into conspiracies, but something about Kisku having been moved into a room that was under the watchful eye of the galaxy’s governing body struck him as odd, or maybe more sinister. His mouth dropped open as if he might speak that thought aloud, but the shared silence seemed too sacred, and he also knew that Kisku would have already considered it a great deal more than he had.
She guided him through the foyer and into the elevator, pressing the button for the 12th floor; the top floor. So high up, he couldn’t help but notice as the lift climbed. Why would it be any more appropriate for her to be here than her previous home? With the time it took to get to the correct floor it was really no closer to the bureau.
Kisku walked down the corridor, passing a number of doors before halting outside of one and swiping her key to open it up. She turned back towards him as the lights switched on automatically, silhouetting her against the warm glow. She observed him for a moment. He could see her eyebrow twitch as if puzzling something out, or hesitating to suggest it, and her lips parted minutely before she spoke.
“I’m going to put the kettle on” she told him, leaving a lengthy gap to let the words hang in the air. “Would you care to join me for some tea?”
Howzer took her up on the offer before she had barely got the words out, and she ushered him in with an amused smirk that she failed to hide. The space was a bit more modest than he was expecting, but he assumed that he most likely viewed her as being more important than those who organised her living arrangements. There was a neat kitchen to one side, a homey looking sofa on the opposite wall, a small dining area between them, and two doors off to the side which he could only presume were the bedroom and refresher. It was humble despite its sleek lines, especially compared to the mansion they had just left.
Howzer watched as Kisku pinched the fabric of her scarf between her fingers, pulling it off. The sheer fabric slid over her smooth skin like water over transpiristeel, and Howzer was positively mesmerised. It was such a simple action, but he was coming to understand that anything Kisku did was a little more than appealing to him.
“Make yourself at home” she smiled at him as she glided over toward the kitchen to put the kettle on, leaning against the counter to take her shoes off.
Home.
The term struck Howzer as something unfamiliar. He watched Kisku move about the space, her navigation of the layout instinctual even as it was almost as new to her as it was to him. He found himself almost desperate to reach out, just to feel her skin against his once more, but forced himself to look away to try and do as she’d said, make himself comfortable in the space. He placed his helmet on the dining table, and noticed the flimsibook that he so often saw clutched between her hands was open beside it, her stylus laid along the spine.
He didn’t mean to look. He knew he shouldn’t, it was private, but when his eyes skimmed the page and he recognised the scrawl of his own name, his heart stopped in his chest. He picked the book up, unable to help himself, and ran his fingers across the unfamiliarly textured page as he read from it.
It was… poetry?
The writing that she had been so intently working on were poems, lyrical waxing interrupted by words scratched out and replaced in the space above, further scribbles in the margins suggesting edits. It seemed that he was a recurring character.
Howzer was floored. He couldn’t believe that such sweet words were written for him, a man made for such violence, and by someone like Kisku no less. He turned page after page, and his name appeared numerous times. Upon further reading, there were points where he wasn’t mentioned by name, though it was obvious that it was images of him she was conjuring. Mentions of armour, scars, chestnut brown eyes. Instances from their time together — the day at the lake, descriptions of sitting opposite him under the whiptree, so far as just passing him by. In each corner, a date was marked. As he flipped backwards through the pages, the kettle’s hissing masking the sound, he found one dated under the day that Kisku had arrived in Lessu.
The words spoke to a recognition of comfortability, of a quiet understanding with no need for words. Eyes meeting and a warmth that reaches over, feeling like a promise, a vow to be fulfilled in time. A desire to see the vow through and not let that warmth fizzle out.
From the very beginning, Howzer realised, Kisku’s own feelings had been aligned with his. She had recognised the pull that he had as soon as he laid eyes on her. Howzer felt his breath cut short, his heartbeat suddenly thundering in his ears as blood ran hot through his veins. His eyes lifted to Kisku, leaned against the kitchen counter and tapping a rhythm against it as she waited for the kettle to finish boiling. He called her name, and she looked over to him inquisitively, but her face dropped when she saw what he held in his hands.
“I didn’t know you wrote… this kind of thing” he stated, the first thing he could think to say.
“You weren’t supposed to” she spoke quickly, her embarrassment obvious as she strode over in just a few steps and snatched the book from him, shoving it into an empty drawer when she made it back to her original position.
Howzer watched as a deep mauve blush pricked the skin of her cheeks, and he offered up an apologetic look. He hadn’t meant to embarrass her, he only wished to convey how much it meant to him.
“I didn’t mean to look, I just—” he found himself at a loss for words, “it’s… beautiful”
“It’s…” she glanced over to him from under her lashes as if they would hide her, shame still colouring her cheeks, “it’s private”
For a moment neither one of them moved, watching each other carefully to see if the other would go on. Kisku shortly began to grow more flustered by the whole ordeal, fingers fiddling with the silky fabric of her dress and shifting on the spot. She hung her head, lekku spilling over her shoulders, and let out a long breath.
“I’m so sorry, Captain”
Howzer’s eyebrows shot up, and he took a step forward on instinct, “you’re sorry?”
“Maker, this is so mortifying” she planted her face in her hands, “I don’t even have the words to explain myself”
He couldn’t help but chuckle at that assertion, deciding to try and lighten the mood; let her know it wasn’t so bad as she was making out. “I don’t know about that, seems like you might have quite a few”
Kisku groaned as her body curled in on itself more, drawing another small laugh from Howzer as he made his way over to her. He tentatively wrapped his hands around her wrists, pulling her hands away from her face. She looked up at him with a bashful expression, struggling to maintain eye contact as he slipped her hands into his.
“I—” he began, not entirely sure of the direction he was going. “I wish I had any sort of talent with words that you have, so that I might be able to express my feelings more clearly, but…” he paused, seeing the timidity begin to recede from her silver eyes, “perhaps I could show you instead?”
His eyes were trained on hers as he awaited her answer, one hand lifting to skim their joined hands over her waist and feeling the silky fabric of her dress slip over his skin, the other ghosting over her arm as it made its way up to hold her jaw.
She stared back at him with widened eyes, “I thought— you said that we shouldn’t”
A reserved smile wormed its way onto his face, one that he hoped conveyed a sense of apology as he shrugged, “I changed my mind”
He could feel some of the tension drain from her body, shoulders relaxing, and she stepped into his space so they were chest to chest. Her nose almost touched his as she tilted her head upwards, her eyes dropping to his lips that were only a hairbreadth from her own. Howzer felt her breath warm on his lips as he wet them with the quick tracing of his tongue between them. He had to fight to keep from shivering at the sensation. Eyes finding his again, he could see more confidence in her gaze, and it sent a certain thrill through him that was impossible to ignore.
“Show me” she whispered, lips practically brushing his.
Howzer closed the minimal space between them, lips meeting with ardour as his arm wrapped around her waist to hold her close. He slid his lips over hers with intent, taking his time in the hopes that it would convey every unsaid notion of admiration. Her hands curled around the top of his chestplate to pull him flush against her, and the fabric of her dress bunched up under his tightening hold.
“You look so good in my colour” he mumbled against her lips, sounding just as drunk as he felt at the intoxicating taste of her.
“I hope so” she returned, “I wore it for you”
A groan left Howzer’s lips unbidden as he deepened the kiss, pressing Kisku back into the kitchen counter. He could feel the way her lips drew up into a smirk. Hands explored her body, finally allowing himself the pleasure of indulging in the feel of her skin.
He was suddenly overwhelmed by a desire he had never known, desperate to be as close as he was physically able after her admission. She had worn this excruciatingly captivating dress just for his eyes, and the prospect of being the one to take it off made his mind fog over with desire. One hand cupped the back of her head as his mouth devoured hers, exploring every inch of her he could reach, the other trailing down her body to grip at her hip. She raised to her toes to push back against him, matching his fervour, her arms snaking around his neck to bring him closer.
In a swift motion, Howzer hooked his hands under her thighs, placing her on top of the counter behind her and standing between her spread thighs. She threaded her legs around his waist, pulling herself into him and earning a breathy groan at the sensation of her pressing into his now uncomfortably tight codpiece.
Howzer had never felt a want as pure as this one. He’d had encounters of a similar nature with others, but never had it been so anticipated, never had he felt this aching within him, the need for closeness — not only physically, but to be tethered to another by something less temporal.
Impatient and overwhelmed by his own state of mind, Howzer’s hand ran down Kisku’s leg and found the hem of her dress, already ridden up a little by that point, and lifted it so he could slip beneath. His fingers danced along her skin, skimming the softness of her inner thigh as he made his way towards the apex in a slow motion.
A shaky breath passed her lips and fanned over his as his knuckles brushed her clothed sex. He ghosted over the fabric of her underwear in featherlight touches, the most infuriating of teases if Kisku’s heavy sigh gave anything away. She was just as impatient as he was.
“No need to be so gentle, Captain” she murmured, voice thick with desire, breathy but confident, “I told you before, I’m not made of glass”
“And I thought you weren’t going to call me that anymore” he pressed his forehead to hers and peered into her eyes as his first finger hooked the edge of her underwear.
“Maybe I just want to” she whispered, an intention behind the words that didn’t go unnoticed. Though initially a little stunned, Howzer’s lips formed a particularly rakish grin at the implication. He gave in to her impatience and sped along the process by pushing her underwear to the side, the tips of his fingers sliding between her folds with ease.
“Fuck” he breathed out shallowly, his forehead dropping to her shoulder, “how are you so wet already?”
His voice was hoarse, being unable to hide the genuine perplexity and pleasant surprise that coloured his tone.
“Didn’t you read my poems?” she asked, a contented sigh passing her lips, “you look very good in this armour, Captain”
A chuckle rumbled through Howzer’s chest, and he heard Kisku’s breath hitch as his thumb grazed over her clit.
“So good you had to match, apparently” he breathed out, his lips against her throat and drawing a shudder.
He continued his teasing, every motion in response to the way she writhed and squirmed under his touch. Dragging his teeth along her collarbone, pressing kisses to soothe, he heard a whimper sound in her throat, and as she parted her lips to reply to his previous comment, he sunk two fingers inside of her. Howzer could feel his knees almost give out at how easy it was to slip his fingers past her entrance. Kisku’s breath stuttered, and a breath escaped her in a sharp and unsteady exhale.
His fingers set a steady pace within her, and he watched every twitch that played on her features as she responded to his efforts. Her face was twisted with pleasure, thin brows pinched and teeth digging into her bottom lip. It was as if she was an instrument, him the air, the strings, that allowed her song to sing. Her soft moans were melodic to him, the most beautiful tune he had heard, and the fact that it was him pulling it from her only made it sound sweeter.
“You’re taking my fingers so well” he muttered against her lips.
A small whine left her, and Howzer attached his lips back to hers, swallowing the sound. His thumb nudged her clit as he wound her up, and she let out a delighted moan into his mouth.
“Tell me how it feels, baby. Tell me how good I make you feel” he rasped, the fingers of his free hand digging into the flesh of her thigh.
“It— fuck” she was interrupted as Howzer’s fingers curled to find a particularly dizzying spot within her, “it feels so good, Captain”
“Yeah?” he asked, adding pressure to her clit so she could only nod in reply, “you like calling me that, huh?”
A small ‘yes’ slipped from her lips in a whisper, looking up into his eyes, and Howzer could see something uncommonly shy swirling within them. He wasn’t going to have that, not now.
“Yes, what?” he challenged, and watched with pride as the timidity receded and a flicker of desire took its place.
“Yes, Captain”
Howzer smirked broadly, his teeth catching his bottom lip as he looked down at the positively alluring sight of Kisku at his mercy.
“Good girl” he praised, and felt the way she clenched around his him in response. He was quickly coming to understand exactly what it was her body was asking for.
He brought her closer and closer to finishing, chest heaving and breath short and uneven as her walls tightened around his pumping fingers, but before she could reach the peak, he pulled his fingers from her completely. A sharp whine slipped from her lips at the loss, but Howzer just offered up a teasing simper.
“Not yet, mesh’la” he spoke lowly, hand kneading her thigh as if a form of apology, “I’ll let you know when you can come”
He could tell his words were having the most effect on her. She was breathless, looking up at him through her eyelashes, and the sight alone was enough to set his skin alight in an entirely new way, his cock throbbing beneath his armour. A hand found its place on her cheek, needing an affirmative before continuing.
“How’s that sound? You think you can follow my orders?” he ask, his tone more reverent than he perhaps meant for it to be. He couldn’t help it, after all.
“Yes, sir” she breathed out, and Howzer couldn’t deny the way the sentiment set his nerves alive.
He kissed her deeply, taking a moment in the flurry of desire to make her understand how much this meant to him, to show how deeply he truly cared for her. His fingers traced her jaw, then wound their way behind her head in a soft brush of skin against skin. He kept his touch light as he drew a path up to one of her lekku, and gently swiped his knuckles over the sensitive area.
A shiver rippled through Kisku, and she drew away from him with a shaky breath, Her eyes were a little wide, and Howzer worried that he’d pushed a boundary, but then her fingers hooked into his belt and she yanked his body towards her’s.
“How do I take this off?” she asked, fumbling with the clasp.
Howzer laughed, her actions so sudden that he couldn’t help himself, “here, let me”
He shooed her hands away, unclipping his belt and then going about removing the remaining pieces of his armour as quickly as possible. Kisku just sat atop the counter, one leg crossed over the other and watching him with a fascination. He caught her gaze, and a smile broke out over his face.
There was a sense of affinity between them, an understanding and trust that had been growing since the beginning, and he had never been as sure of it than he was in that moment. Howzer didn’t believe in fate — his time in the war had only taught him the certainty of everything being up to luck and random chance — but something about the way Kisku looked at him, the way her eyes found his and things seemed to make sense, it felt that it had been brewing for a long time, something in the back of his mind that came forward when they met.
Once Howzer was just down to his blacks, armour scattered about the floor surrounding him, her hands were on him before he could go any further. She pulled him towards her, tasting his lips again, and he melted into it, running his hands up her thighs.
Her hands travelled over his chest an took a downwards path, fingers brushing against the hard muscle of his stomach before they wrapped around his hardened length. An unbidden groan left him at the action, unintentionally grinding himself into her hold and gripping the flesh of her thighs as she palmed him through the material. He could feel himself crumbling under her attention already, and before long he wouldn’t be able to wait to feel her around him.
“Where’s your bedroom?” he asked, breathless.
“Door to the right” she answered in a mumble and pressed a kiss to his neck.
Kisku couldn’t have imagined ever feeling this charged by another being.
Howzer hooked his hands under Kisku’s thighs and wasted no time in heading over towards the bedroom. His hand smashed into the door panel with an urgency, making her chuckle against his skin as she littered kisses up his neck and along his jaw. When he found the bed in the darkened room, he placed Kisku down gently, laying her down beneath him. He took the opportunity to explore her body with his lips, pressing open mouthed kisses where her dress would allow, and nudging it aside when he seemed unsatisfied with how little skin he could reach.
Then he pulled back, head tilted as he looked down at himself, then to her, “I think we’re still a little overdressed”
Kisku’s lips lifted into a half-smile, half-smirk, “you think so?”
Howzer chuckled and pushed himself from the bed, holding out his hands, palms upwards. Kisku took his offer with no thought, happy to let him lead her anywhere now. Her hands left his to trace her fingers underneath the fabric of his blacks, feeling the warmth of his skin on hers, then she pushed upwards, bringing the top with her and sliding it from his body. She was vaguely aware of him removing the bottom half of the suit, leaving him in just his underwear, but she was far more entranced by the scattered scarring across his chest and stomach to pay attention. The tanned planes of his chest were decorated by a number of marks, one of them significantly more prominent just below his collarbone.
Kisku’s eyes left Howzer’s chest to find him watching her, that weary smile of his beginning to crack, the scar on his chin pulling taut. Her heart soared at the sight. In that moment, any notion of leaving the planet had flown from her mind. How could she leave this man behind? This man who had been kind to her since before they met, who inspired in her poetry she had not written the likes of in years, who stood before her now in all his glory and yet looked at her as if she were the single most precious thing in the universe.
“You’re incredible” she whispered.
Howzer’s smile widened, and he slipped two fingers beneath one strap of her dress to push it from her shoulder, “not like you are”
She was entirely caught up in his gaze, amber eyes that appeared warm even in the light of the moon, as he removed the other strap. The silky material of her dress folded easily, sliding from her body and pooling at her feet in one graceful motion. Howzer’s lips parted, pupils dilated, and his hands reached for her to trace his thumbs over her bare hip bone and take in the sight of her.
“Kriff, mesh’la. Look at you” his tone was nothing short of worshipping, adoration and infatuation laced into his words.
One side of her lips quirked up at the compliment, however incomplete the thought was. Kisku wound her arms around his neck and pulled her body to his so that she felt his hot skin against hers. Howzer’s forehead dropped to her’s, hands squeezing her waist but seemingly unaware of it. Kisku smirked up at him.
“Don’t lose your nerve now, Captain”
His lips met hers with a protesting grunt, and he used the action to walk her backward, catching her just before she hit the bed to lay her down again. His thumbs hooked into the waistband of his underwear to tug the final piece of clothing from his body. Taking a hand in his, he interlaced Kisku’s fingers with his own and pressed it into the bed.
“You ready, pretty girl?” he asked in a whisper, leaning down to press a slow kiss to her jaw.
Kisku nodded, her breath leaving her as Howzer positioned himself at her entrance. He sheathed into her, and a gasp got caught in her throat as he slowly filled her out. The fingers of her free hand gripped onto his shoulder as he bottomed out, the other tightening in Howzer’s as his grip became more firm. He pulled her close, foreheads together and eyes closed as their bodies were flush with one another. He pulled out slowly, a careful procedure, and then sank back in with a shuddering breath.
“Fuck” he choked out, running a soothing hand up her side, “you feel so good, baby”
He set a steady pace at first, but soon enough his ministrations turned more impassioned, driving into her and hitting deep inside with each thrust. He was mumbling acclamatory words against her lips as if he couldn’t concentrate enough to speak properly, and especially when her lips were on his neck. It made Kisku’s head spin, more arousing than she realised, and she felt positively high. He was invading his senses like spice.
The feeling that it gave her, the intimacy of it more than anything, was euphoric. She had never felt so close to another person, so understood and frankly loved, whether or not it was the case. The two of them were connected in a way that she couldn't fully comprehend.
Howzer felt her walls tightening around him, and kept his pace up as he spoke, “ah, ah. You don't come until I tell you to, remember?”
“Yes, Captain” she whimpered, eyes screwing shut.
“Hey” he said more gently, slowing down as his hand caressed her face, “look at me.” Kisku’s eyes opened once more, and a smile broke out on his face.
He bumped his forehead with hers as he resumed his punishing pace, his eyes burned into hers and hers burning in kind. She was only just hanging on, determined not to come undone until he spoke the words.
“You take me so well baby” he whispered, his voice reverent and gentle as he buried his face in her neck, nipping at her skin and sending shivers all through her body. His breath stuttered, like he was unable to hold on for much longer himself, and Kisku’s whispered pleas told him that she was right there with him. “Where do you want me?” he asked, his voice strained.
She was breathless as she replied, almost relieved, “inside”
“I'm protected” she assured him, “please Captain, I want to feel you”
That was evidently all Howzer needed to resume his shattering pace, hands holding her hips firmly in place as he pounded into her and finally spoke the words, “come for me, baby”
Kisku was easily pushed over the edge, and Howzer rode her through the high until he came undone with a harsh grunt, spilling his seed deep within her. It took more than a moment to come down from the pure bliss of fulfilment, and when she did, her eyes opened to look up at him, still panting, and he was doing the same. He let out a breathy laugh, grinning at her spent expression.
He slipped out of her, sitting back on his heels to catch his breath, and watched as his seed spilled out of her, making his teeth sink into his lip. His eyes found hers once more as his hand gently kneaded her thigh, shaking his head.
“What?” Kisku asked, a gentle smile playing on her lips.
“You're just—” he breathed out deeply, “you're so beautiful”
She grinned at him, sitting up on her elbows, “thank you”
He pressed a kiss to her knee and stood from the bed, “don't move, I'll be right back”
He left the room and Kisku dropped her head back to the softness of the bed. For the first time in months, her mind was still. Nothing crossed her mind as she stared at the ceiling. She could rarely afford to be selfish, but for one moment, it occurred to her that it was a state of being she could get used to.
Howzer returned with a damp towel in hand, and helped her clean up before crawling over her again, cupping her face between his hands and pressing a tender kiss to her lips. Kisku couldn’t remember a moment where she’d felt so complete as this.
She hummed contentedly against his lips, her own hand caressing is face and outlining the scar on his cheek, “will you stay the night?”
Howzer sighed against her, “I can’t be caught leaving here tomorrow”
Kisku’s heart deflated a little in her chest. She chewed on her cheek, looking away a moment, “just for a little while?”
He smiled, a genuine contentment in his dark eyes, “alright. A little while”
He settled into the space beside her and pulled her body flush against his, placing a kiss to her forehead as he held her close. Her face was buried in his chest, breath tickling at his skin. Kisku tried not to let the magnitude of what had just transpired wash over just yet, but her practical side was kicking into gear. Before all of this, she had a plan to leave. Now? She didn’t think she could. Not yet, anyway. Not without him.
“Howzer?” she called softly.
“Hm?” he rumbled, his arms tightening around her.
“What—” she stopped before she could blurt out something she didn’t mean, and he pulled back to look at her.
“What’s up?”
She swallowed her pride and asked him quietly, “what does this mean?”
Howzer’s brow flashed a frown but he smiled, like the question might have been a pleasant surprise. His fingers brushed against her cheekbone as he looked down at her adoringly, “it means whatever you want it to”
Kisku tilted her head, a small crease in her brow, “well… what do you want?”
“I only want whatever I can have, however much that is”
A somewhat sad smile tugged at her lips, the realities behind his words striking a chord. That was all it could be at present. Kisku hoped it wouldn’t always be the case as she put it from her mind.
She lifted her head to place a quick kiss to his cheek, “I just want you… in any way I can”
“Then I’m yours” he whispered, “in any way that matters”
i think i don't really vibe with most other fans of my favorite male characters is because they usually depict them too much of a man, and i am not interested in men, i am interested in The Character. and i am not saying that they should depict them as women, or nonbinary, or should depict them as feminine, no, not at all. but there's like, you know, you can depict a male character as The Character, and you can depict them as The Man. do you get me? like, i go to the fandom looking for art and fics, and it's just, regardless of his actual characterization, it's all just fantasizing about some kind of an abstract dominant patriarch, wearing my favorite character's face. it may be the most totally-wouldnt-have-normal-relationships (and sometimes even would-literally-abuse-you) kind of guy, and you join a dedicated space for his fans, and all they talk about is how they want to marry and start a tradcore 50s style nuclear family with him. it can be a guy who's arrogance and attempts of domination are explicitly shown to be a facade that hide the fact that he's actually kind of a massive pathetic wet loser, and you go to his fics, and they're all depicting him as a caricaturish daddy dom. at this point it's like, do you even like the character at all, or do you just like The Man, and project this man onto whatever character you find visually attractive? and these people kind of, really really poison actual discussion of the character, who is kind of a fucked up evil person (i only like *those* types, so im talking about them) because they see analysis of the actual character as an attack on their fantasized daddy dom husband, who is actually isn't The Character at all, and is simply a face of the day for The Man
Captain Howzer x Kisku Neirkinn (Fem!OC / Twi'lek!OC / Politician!OC)
A/N: this might be my favourite chapter so far. and now i've caught up with myself on ao3! so new chapters from here on out
Chapter Word Count: 6.1k
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Rep. Neirkinn,
We have been reviewing your housing circumstances, and concluded that your current lodgings are inadequate. Within the next few rotations, you will be relocated to an apartment more suitable for someone of your station (see attached). We hope you will find this accommodation preferable to your situation at present.
Best,
Umizzi Zures, Sen. Taa’s office
Kisku stared at the message for perhaps the 50th time that day. It was the chime of her comm receiving it that woke her from sleep, and she hadn’t dared leave the house since then. Not for work, not anything. There was no denying now that she was being watched more closely, she just wished the message hadn’t come so clearly from the more insipid of Senator Taa’s aides.
Would she just have to find a way to come to terms with this? Could there be a way to stay in her position and do some good? These were the questions that roamed unanswered around her head. It wasn't that she though her actions wouldn't have consequences when she spoke out, but that it was all coming to a head too fast. This was another direct threat, clear as day. They knew how to play the game, and this was one she was unfamiliar with.
She figured that by now she knew the rulebook by which most politicians played, but throughout her time suffering the shadows of more important figures, it had never occurred to her that they would change the game altogether. As it was announced, the Empire was promised to provide security to the galaxy, and maybe in the Senate’s haste to put the war behind them, they had blindly accepted this change as necessary.
What could she even do about her position now? If she attempted to refuse the housing offer it would only worsen things, and she’d most likely be in more danger.
Just then, Kisku’s comm started buzzing in her hand. She flinched on instinct, snapping from her daze, but stayed perfectly still a moment later as a new fear gripped her. Were they expecting to hear back from her? Was she going to be reprimanded for not attending work today? She figured that Orn Free Taa would have been all too happy to be shot of her. The caller’s identification eventually showed when she garnered the courage to click the button to the side, and she was surprised to find the call coming from a friend on Courscant.
“Riyo?” Kisku placed the puck down on the table just ahead of her as the image of the Pantoran Senator flickered to life.
“Kisku! I was just quickly calling to— oh…” her voice trailed off as she seemed to be sizing up the Twi’lek who sat rigid in her place, “is everything alright?”
“Yes, yes of course” she replied quickly, then swallowed back her pride, “well…”
The image of Riyo folded her arms as her brows drew together, “what’s going on?”
“Is the line secure?”
“Yes of course, it’s my personal comm”
“That doesn’t make it secure”
“Kisku, what are you talking about?”
Kisku sighed and let herself relax. Perhaps she was being a tad too paranoid. She told Riyo everything that had transpired since her arrival on Ryloth, everything Orn Free Taa had said that hinted to the Empire being something more than was seen.
“Kriff…” Riyo breathed out as she looked down, then raised her hand to her chin as she stood in silence, either puzzling it out or entirely shocked. “What do you need?”
“I need to leave” Kisku said pointedly, “there isn’t anything left for me here”
Riyo shook her head, though not in dismissal, “you don’t sound yourself, Kisku”
“I— well, that’s probably not far wrong”
Kisku watched the small blue figure take a deep breath.
“Look, I was calling to tell you that I’m coming to Ryloth for the Senator’s ball in a few days” she said, then paused for a moment. “We’ll have to be careful but… I think I could get you out of there”
Days later, Kisku watched as the clones shuffled in and out of her new apartment with crates of her possessions. It was bad enough that this was happening to begin with, but to have the clones be the ones to do it felt like salt in the wound. She didn’t want these men as her personal assistants, she wanted them free. Having dedicated so much of her time to trying to see that happen, she could now feel a rage growing in her that was barely containable. She would hold it back from the clones at least, it wasn't them she was angry with.
The new apartment was bigger than her previous accommodation. It was extra space she didn’t need, and it only served to make her feel more lonely, more isolated. A small fish in a big pond. With any luck, this would be her first and final night in the place, and she could put all of this behind her.
But she didn’t want to, not really. She wanted to stay and believe that things could be made better, no matter how bleak it might become. Perhaps that was just too unrealistic.
Kisku took a seat at her new vanity and looked at herself in the mirror once the last crate had been deposited. The bags under her eyes were more prominent now, with two days of limited sleep under her belt, and she’d have to work harder to cover them for the Senator’s ball tonight. She hadn’t intended to attend the function after everything that had transpired, but now that she knew it could be her last night on Ryloth, she was more tempted to throw caution to the wind.
Without much effort of her own, her thoughts dwelled on Howzer. Much as it hurt that he’d drawn a line between them, she could understand the rationale in distancing himself. She didn’t know exactly his reasons, but the more she thought of it the more she agreed. She couldn’t bring him into her life in good faith when she knew, or at least heavily suspected that there was a target on her back. However she felt about him, it wouldn’t negate putting him in the line of fire if she chose it.
She hadn’t intending on forming such an attachment to the clone, at least not in any way that would break rules and make him feel as if he was going against his code. She didn’t want him to feel guilty just talking to her, that would hurt her just as much. It did also occur to her that just because rules were rules doesn’t mean that they’re necessarily denoted by what’s right. Though, trying to argue that would make her sound desperate.
Maybe she was. She’d not had a connection like the one she had with Howzer. Something so easy, where they were able to co-exist so simply and comfortable. She suspected it had got too comfortable for Howzer’s tastes, that was what had reminded him that he may be neglecting his proper duty to the Empire. Either way, it was inconsequential now. If everything went smoothly she’d be off the planet by daybreak the following morning. It was for the best that she would be leaving as much behind as possible.
That thought line did pain her. She hadn’t made time to visit her mother in between everything going on, and now she may never be able to return so easily. Though she’d been initially reticent to return to Ryloth, forced by her superiors, the thought of leaving it now made her chest constrict. She’d forgotten what it was like, not being so directly wrapped up in politics all day every day. She didn’t realise until returning, but while on Coruscant she hadn’t ever managed to fully switch off.
That’s what she had appreciated, and already missed, about Howzer. Around him her mind could relax, stretch to other ideas that she’d been neglecting. When he was with her, she felt a certainty of self, a sense of confidence in her mind and clarity of who she was and why she went into public service to begin with. Though she’d miss this planet and its people, she knew now with surety that it was Howzer she would miss the most.
Kisku’s eyes travelled across the room to the dress that she’d hung from her wardrobe in preparation, and despite herself, she managed a smile. One night of frivolity in the face of a galaxy caving in on itself couldn’t be a bad thing, surely.
Ostentatious. That was the word Howzer would use to describe Senator Orn Free Taa’s estate.
High ceilings, gaudy silver curtains and a vivid blue carpet that ran throughout the marble halls. It resembled the more imposing areas of the senate bureau, but devoid of any of the charm. Thankfully, the room that Howzer would have to be standing at attention in for the duration of the evening was slightly less over the top, though no less opulent with its golden chandeliers and dark wood floors.
The people, however, left much to be desired. Extravagantly dressed senators and others of political import shared sparkling drinks in crystal glasses, talking, laughing and dancing with one another. Every smile Howzer saw seemed false, an act that should be genuine reduced to a political play. He couldn’t help but think that Kisku didn’t fit in amongst this crowd. Then again, she wasn’t here. He hadn’t seen her in days, and with the celebration already in full swing, he didn’t presume he would.
The lavish party was supposed to be a celebration, an important day in Ryloth’s history, but with the way the people in front of him went on, how the discussions of late had been, Howzer couldn’t help but let indignation rise in his gut. Not a single one of these politicians cared about Ryloth. They didn’t care about its past or its present, and they certainly didn’t care about its future.
It was sickening. The wealth that surrounded him was unmistakable in a particularly vile way, a way that only highlighted their unwillingness to do right. It was all a distraction from what was really going on, the corruption that was embedded within the people who held the power here.
It was no use to dwell on it now. He’d drive himself crazy just by stewing on it all night long.
As if a conjuration of his own mind, the very best distraction he could imagine, he caught the figure standing at the top of the staircase to his left side. He was pretty sure that his heart actually stopped beating at the sight of her.
Kisku had forgone her heavy robes in favour of a silky dress that hung from her figure and perfectly framed her body, a thin scarf that laid over her neck and draped down her back, and a headpiece adorned by pearls that dangled around her face and down her lekku. The thing that caught Howzer’s attention the most, however, was the colour of her dress. It was teal, the exact shade that decorated his armour. He couldn’t help but think that she looked divine in his colour, perfectly complimenting the hues of her skin.
He watched as she gracefully descended the staircase, one hand sliding along the banister, the other holding her dress so as to not trip. She was a vision, like an angel descending from the sky, and a feeling of finality washed over Howzer. Only a second passed, and he knew that something so fickle as a rule, a law that sought to strip him of any happiness, could not stop him from being at her side.
At the base of the stairs, Kisku was greeted by a small crowd that had gathered during her entrance. Howzer had been too enraptured with Kisku herself to notice, and his mouth still hung open a fraction as he watched her navigate through the people demanding her attention. He wasn’t surprised in the least, she was the most gorgeous being here by far.
As she made her way across the room, seemingly zeroed in on something, or someone, Howzer saw how her dress plunged down to her lower back, the only thing covering her skin being the sheer, almost non-existent scarf that hung from her neck. He had to bite into his bottom lip to save from letting his jaw hit the floor.
She made her way over to a Pantoran woman dressed in maroon, whose eyes widened comically upon seeing her, throwing her arms around Kisku’s neck and almost knocking her back. Her laughter carried across the room, entering through Howzer’s ears and bouncing around in his head, the most joyous thing he’d ever heard. The Pantoran handed Kisku a drink, clinking her glass against the other as they beamed at each other. Even with her back to him, Howzer could see that this was the most she had lit up around anyone since he'd known her.
Try as he might, he could not stop his eyes from trailing down her figure as she caught up with her friend. He distantly wondered what it might be like to be close to her in this dress, how her skin might feel as he ran a hand down her spine. It felt like she was taunting him, begging him to lose his composure. He imagined it wasn’t her intention, not with the way she shunned him a few days prior, but it was working nonetheless.
He took a deep breath and dragged his gaze away, pulling at the collar of his blacks as if it might give him some relief from the heat rising to his cheeks. The hot flush of his blood rushing through him was hard to ignore, but he did his best to push it away, scanning the room and keeping track of the members of his squad that were stationed at the exit points. When his gaze landed on the auburn locks of Teddy, it wasn’t hard to notice how his hand moved in signals, eyes locked across the room.
Howzer already knew who he’d find at the other end of Teddy’s stare, so the devilish grin and mischievous glint in Oscar’s eyes was not a surprise. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes, though not without a quiet fondness. His arm raised to his lips as he pressed a button on his vambrace that would alert the two of them, and gave a short word of warning. Both soldiers instantly straightened to proper form.
Oscar chanced a glance over to Howzer out of the corner of his eye, snapping his gaze forward when he was met by an unimpressed expression. When his eyes travelled over to Teddy, he could see that he was not so easily scared. His first finger pointed to Howzer, a cheeky grin forming even as he tried to fight it. Howzer raised a brow, cocking his head in challenge, but Teddy doubled down, pointing again, and nodded his head over to the the right. Howzer followed his gesture, and finding a certain lilac Twi’lek as the object of his brother’s accusation, tightened his grip on his helmet. He shook his head at the red-headed clone and raised his vambrace to his lips again.
“Mind your post, soldier” he spoke firmly as he provided his best look of warning, “and mind your business too, while you’re at it”
Teddy’s lips parted in a chuckle, and if it wasn’t at his expense, Howzer could’ve laughed along from the joy in his eyes. Teddy and Oscar were the only two of his brothers that he could discern had not been affected by whatever shift the rest of them had undergone. Nothing about Teddy’s playful grin and Oscar’s caught-off-guard wide eyes struck him as anything different than what he knew of them. Among so much uncertainty, it was a comfort to him.
Howzer let his eyes scan the room in an absentminded sweep, taking in the scene with a level of objectivity he had lost in watching Kisku. His gaze fell on her as he finished the sweep, and he felt that focus receding again. It wasn’t an unwelcome distraction from the disgust he felt for the rest of the guests, but really he shouldn’t let himself indulge in it. He had a job to do, however tedious and flawed he thought it.
He was so lost in admiring Kisku that he missed the way her friend nodded to him, catching him in the act. She turned, her eyes searching across the room before her gaze settled on him. It froze him in his place, eyes locked with hers. She swirled her drink gently in her hand, offering a small smile to him before turning back to her conversation, but not before Howzer managed to catch the blush that tinted her cheeks.
Kisku continued to talk to her Pantoran friend until she got called away by another guest, leaving her by herself for the time being. Howzer was itching to go over and talk with her, just to be close to her in any way she would allow, despite his previous words of how forbidden it was. Before he could make up his mind to take the first step, someone else — a pale man in a dark suit that complimented his piercing blue eyes — slid up next to her, a wry smile on his lips and a playful glint in his eye that made Howzer’s mind cloud with frustration. He watched on as they settled into the conversation, noticing how the man carried it for the most part. Kisku gave him the time of day all the same, much to Howzer’s chagrin.
“What’s your name trooper?”
Howzer couldn’t help but jump slightly at the unexpected voice to his left, and he swivelled his head around to the cause. The Pantoran woman that Kisku had embraced was stood just next to him as if she had been waiting for him to notice her for some time, a curious expression lifting her features.
“Howzer, ma’am” he replied firmly.
“Please, drop the formalities” she waved her hand in a dismissive gesture, wearing a smile at the corner of her lips that, combined with her words, reminded him of the first time he talked to Kisku. “I’m Riyo”
The woman stuck out her hand, and Howzer shot a quick nervous glance to his right before shaking it firmly, a small smile of his own forming. Now that he could see her properly, he realised that he was somewhat aware of who she was. He had seen her on the holonews before.
“Now,” she spoke, something amused and conspiratorial sliding across her face, “are you actually going to go and talk to Kisku, or are you just going to stare at her all night?”
Howzer’s eyebrows shot up, and he felt his face heat under the scrutiny of the small woman beside him.
“I— uh, Senator, I don’t know what you— I wasn’t— I wouldn’t—” he stumbled through a number of poor retaliations before Riyo took pity on him and cut him off.
She caught his attention with an utterance of his name, a small smirk on her lips as her gaze lingered on the darkening flush of his cheeks, “you can drop the act with me. I saw the way you were looking at her”
Howzer’s throat was tight as he tried to swallow his embarrassment. Riyo let the half-spoken accusation hang in the air, excruciating in its implications. He shifted in his place, eyes anywhere but the figure beside him, and coughed into his tight fist, trying to come up with an excuse.
“She wants you to go over”
Howzer’s lips parted as his brow furrowed, “she told you that?”
“No” she admitted firmly, a quick shake of her head, “but I’ve also never known anybody to make her blush before”
His heart stuttered in his chest, for a reason he had to work to find. It was the idea of him being an exception of some sort, in being able to break Kisku’s composure where others had failed. His blood ran hot at the realisation. He cast his eyes back over to her, locked in conversation with the same imposing man and listening intently as he leaned back against the far wall, his head tilted towards her. When he turned back to Riyo, she gave him a knowing smile.
“Just don’t wait forever” she instructed with a hand resting at his elbow, a delicate touch that offered a sense of approval he didn’t know he wanted from her until it was given. He nodded to her in thanks before she turned away.
A determination set in as he found Kisku’s form again. A somewhat rattled sigh passed his lips, taking in the way she stood with her weight rested to one side, her hip jutting out just a little as she brought her glass to her lips. Howzer adjusted his grip on his helmet, watching the way her throat moved as she took a sip.
Kisku’s eyes momentarily left the man in her company and slid over towards Howzer from behind the rim of the glass, and he had to suppress any reaction when she discreetly rolled her eyes, mocking the man who failed to notice her do so. The corner of his lips twitched even so. It pleased him beyond measure to know that he could grasp and hold her attention from across a room, when the same couldn’t be said for someone stood right by her.
After a few minutes entertaining the man’s advances, Kisku interrupted him with a pointed finger, excusing herself. Howzer’s breath caught at the prospect of her making her way over to him, but instead he watched as she walked to the opposite side of the hall and slipped outside, cracking the wooden door open just enough for her slim frame to fit through.
Howzer glanced around the room, to Teddy and Oscar, to the dark-haired man Kisku had been subject to, to her friend Riyo. None were looking his way, so he followed in Kisku’s footsteps around the edge of the large room. When he pulled the door open, he was greeted by the sight of her leaning her elbows against the stone railing that lined the patio, looking out over the expanse of the Senator’s gardens. He had to admit that the view was stunning, but the sight of Kisku leant forwards, her dress pooling at her sides and exposing more of her skin to the moonlight, was a far more alluring sight.
Kisku’s head twinged at the click of the door closing, her lips quirking into a half-smile.
“Captain” she nodded to him in acknowledgement.
“Ma’am” he replied, a subdued smirk winding its way across his face.
A breathy laugh left her lips, her head shaking as she turned to rest her back against the cool stone, “I’m not— you shouldn’t call me that”
Howzer shrugged with a newfound sense of uncaring for what he should or shouldn’t do, “you look the part”
Kisku chuckled and drew her bottom lip between her teeth as she eyed him from beneath dark lashes. The headpiece she wore caught the light of the moon, perfectly contrasting with the warm glow of indoors that was reflected from the other side. Once more, Howzer couldn’t help but draw forth the comparison to a painting, a masterwork. He almost felt that this was one he’d seen before. It was a scene most worthy of being captured, a moment he should like to revisit, one he was sure he would.
Howzer’s features became weighted by a seriousness as he observed her, and true awe captured him enough to speak it aloud. His voice was softer, more sincere, without any great effort of his own but given by the truth of his words, the gravity with which he felt them.
“You look beautiful”
Kisku’s lips lifted carefully, a low, amused hum reverberating in her throat. Her eyes skimmed along the ground ahead of her instead of holding his intense gaze, and he noticed the flush of colour in her cheeks that she tried to hide in doing so.
“Thank you” she replied, a little too cordially, “as do you”
Howzer’s lips curved into a genuine smile at the unexpected compliment, albeit somewhat of a deflection from his own.
“Are you enjoying the party?” he asked after clearing his throat.
Kisku’s eyes flicked back to his, and she paused with her lips parted for a moment, dropping her head to the side before answering, “not really”
“How come?”
She shrugged one shoulder, her smile rueful, “not my scene”
Howzer briefly glanced inside at the outlandishly dressed party guests and the splendour that surrounded them. Kisku wasn’t like them. It had always been obvious, from the very first moment he had laid eyes on her. His gut twisted with guilt for his accusations at the lake, even if they weren’t sentiments he had shared with her.
She was so much more authentic than anything going on in the Senator’s hall. If he had to really pinpoint why, it would be that she actually felt real. Not like a twisted conjuration of some cruel god’s imagination, not a blank slate with a cavern behind their dull eyes holding nothing but contempt. That could be left to the other politicians. She was as much herself as she was a governor, and anyone under her governance would be all the more better for it. It was beyond a shame that that authority was actively slipping from her grasp, probably further still in the time it took for the thought to occur to him.
“I was thinking I might leave, actually”
Howzer’s gaze found her again, and noticed the more rigid set of her shoulders.
“Without a dance?” he raised an eyebrow in an attempted tease.
Kisku laughed gratuitously at the idea. “I don’t want to dance with any of these…” she waved her hand vaguely towards the people inside, “idiots”
Howzer chuckled, taking a moment to peer inside once more. This time he focused in on a few individuals; a Twi’leki man with narrow lips and a thinly-veiled contempt for the woman talking to the group he stood with, a blue spotted Nautolan that pulled at the cuff of their too-tight suit, the Senator of Ryloth himself who laughed boisterously as if the fate of a planet didn’t rest on his shoulders. No one was paying attention to anyone but themselves. They weren't concerned with things going on outside the walls of the ornate room they stood in.
“Would you dance with me?”
Howzer wondered to himself, having not the focus to realise his lips had formed the words and his tongue had betrayed him in pushing them forth.
Kisku cocked her head a little, a dubiousness written into her furrowed brow, though mirth in her tone, “they teach you to dance on Kamino?”
“No” Howzer said in a soft, humbled laugh, “but they did teach us how to adapt, how to learn quickly”
The crease between her brows relented a fraction, and he shrugged as if the whole ordeal was completely normal for him. It was a foolish pursuit, really. He was sure Kisku knew he was feigning confidence. He placed his helmet down on the railing anyway, then slipped off his gloves and tucked them into his belt.
“I know how it’s done. More or less” he offered a shy grin, one that admitted to his lack of practice in the skill, and held his hand out to her, “can I have this dance, m’lady?”
Kisku chuckled lightly and reached for his outstretched hand, letting him pull her towards him, “it should be ‘could I have this dance’, really”
“Hm” he bowed his head, tentatively taking her waist with his free hand, “can’t say I’ve ever asked anyone to dance before”
“Well, now you know” she smiled gently, her hand coming to rest against his chest, “for next time”
“Next time?” he asked, one eyebrow raised.
Kisku tried to suppress a smirk as Howzer led her into the dance, settling into the medium tempo given by the band inside, “in case you find yourself dancing with another member of the Senate, of course”
“Of course” Howzer parroted, his tone falsely grave, “though I can’t imagine I will”
He brought her hand up and spun her around in time with the music as he’d seen others do in his time guarding the room, and pulled her back to him so they were almost chest to chest. Her silver eyes bore into his as his hand slid to the small of her back, gently brushing her skin and witnessing the shiver that ran up her spine. As he lead the two of them further from the transpirasteel-paned doors, the dance taking form more clearly as they each relaxed into their roles, his palm pressed against the warmth of her skin, bringing her body closer to his. For the first time, he wished that he owned any other clothing but his armour, so that he might be able to really know what it was to have her pressed up against him. He’d settle for a glove-less hand against her back for now.
There was something in Kisku’s gaze, something troubled behind her eyes that soured her smile as he looked at her. Howzer didn’t know if he was diagnosing the problem correctly, but he wanted to speak his mind anyway.
“What you tried to do the other day was very admirable” he muttered, earning a sigh that made Kisku’s whole body slump towards him, resting her forehead against his chestplate.
“I’m afraid of what is happening to this planet” she admitted, “to the galaxy”
Howzer nodded, his hand sliding up her back to gently rub what he hoped would be comforting circles between her shoulder blades. She continued to let him lead her through the dance, moving her feet in tandem with his despite her collapsed posture.
“I know” he spoke quietly, “but… you can’t give up”
Kisku’s head lifted from his chest, her eyes slightly wide and startlingly close to his. She seemed conflicted, and if he wasn’t mistaken, truly frightened by something. He felt as if he could see his own soul reflected back at him in that moment, a deep rooted fear set alight in the back of his mind that would not yet be given a name.
“I feel like giving up” she told him, but he just shook his head. He couldn’t let her think this way.
“You can’t” he replied firmly, his arm wrapping around her as he slowly let the dance draw them both from the light spilling through the door once more.
“But I can’t do anything. Not as long as the Senator is here” she said desperately, her brows pinched and mouth twisted in a frown.
It was strange to see her so defeated. Howzer had only known her to be quietly confident and hopeful in a particularly steadfast way, but now she had been beaten down by the truth of the situation, and for whatever reason she was looking to him for help. He chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment, a question forming in his mind that he didn’t know he’d like the implications of.
“Will he not go back to Coruscant eventually?”
Kisku’s eyes dropped for a moment, then found his again with a hesitance he wasn’t sure was born of just the question itself, “I suppose so”
He was quiet for another moment, then— “and what about you?”
“What about me?”
“Will you be sent back to Coruscant too?”
She shook her head, but more in dismissal than as a negative, “I’ll have to do what I’m told. Though it does seem that my days on Coruscant are over”
She seemed sure, resigned to that fact even. Howzer didn’t know why she was so certain, but he was inclined to trust her judgement on the matter.
“Then maybe you’ll get your chance”
Kisku sighed, “but you don’t kn—”
“No buts” Howzer interjected with a growing smile, aiming to lift the mood if he could, “just do what you can, right? Isn’t that what you told me?”
“Yeah” she almost scoffed the word, her lips curling slowly into an appreciative smile, “I can’t believe you remember me saying that”
Howzer offered a frown, “why wouldn’t I?”
“I… don’t know. I suppose I’m used to people just ignoring what I say”
It was a upsetting thing to hear, from anyone. The sharp pinch in his chest made Howzer realise that it was probably one of the most vulnerable things she had told him.
“Well they’re fools” he assured.
Kisku huffed a short laugh as he spun her again, not much humour behind it, “if you say so”
“I mean it” he pulled her back against him and held her close by her waist, “I never— no one ever gave me the time of day to… just talk, before you. No one saw fit to educate me about anything, most don’t even talk to me like I’m human”
Her brow creased at his words, “that’s horrible. I’m so sorry”
Howzer’s lips lifted into a teasing grin at the misunderstanding, “that was supposed to be a compliment, I wasn’t looking for sympathy”
“Oh” she chuckled in a self-deprecating manner, and the dance died down to a light sway as the music did, “right, well— you’re welcome I suppose. Although, what you described is really just… basic decency”
A scoff passed his lips, “so that’s the only reason you talk to me, huh? Decency?”
“Well, no. I—” she faltered, diverting her gaze, “it’s like I said before, you’re a good man”
Howzer just hummed in response, every nerve buzzing beneath his skin as he fought the smile that threatened to split his face in half. Inside the walls of the mansion, the musicians finished their song, a small round of applause following their final note. Kisku stepped away from Howzer with a particularly reticent expression, perhaps guilty, as if the intimacy of the moment had finally caught up with her.
“I think I’ll be going now” she said softly as the band lead into their next tune.
Truthfully, Howzer didn’t want her to leave. Even if it wasn’t in such a troubling way as the previous times, he wasn’t going to watch her walk away from him again.
“Please allow me to escort you back to your quarters, ma’am” he suggested, the corner of his mouth twitching and breaking the mask of sincerity. She gave him a hesitant and dubious look, making his smile only grow.
“You should probably stay here, no?”
Howzer shook his head confidently, his resolve firm, “I am tasked with protecting the people of this party. Should one wish to leave, it would only be proper to ensure they get home safely”
Kisku’s responding laugh was soft, not mocking. Her teeth caught her bottom lip as if to bite back a remark she’d later regret, and her eyes narrowed like she might be able to try and read his thoughts.
“I suppose that makes sense” she finally mumbled, sounding just a little less enthusiastic that he had hoped. His lips lifted into an easy smile anyway, and he gestured towards the set of steps that led back towards the front of the estate.
“Lead the way ma’am”
She rolled her eyes playfully as she strode over to the steps, “I thought you agreed never to call me that when we first met”
Howzer shrugged, brushing past the false annoyance in her tone, “maybe I just want to”
He held out his hand to her once again at the top of the stairs, all four of them, and she scoffed while slipping her hand into his to let him assist in her descent. He knew he was pushing his luck, trying to be so affectionate with her after he had shunned her for doing the exact same thing only a few days prior, but he couldn’t help himself. Especially when she seemed receptive to it.
She thanked him quietly before taking back her hand to clasp it in the other behind her back. The pair of them made their way back up through the large courtyard of the Senator’s mansion, stately trees lining the way and casting them into darkness. They settled into a comfortable silence, letting the sounds of the people dwindle to nothing as they traversed the city.
