Load-Bearing Scholar, Hidden Updates (7861 words) by KnightImperfect
Chapters: 2/2
Fandom: 人渣反派自救系统 - 墨香铜臭 | The Scum Villain's Self-Saving System - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Shang Qinghua & Shen Yuan | Shen Qingqiu, Liu Qingge & Shang Qinghua & Shen Yuan | Shen Qingqiu, Shang Qinghua & System
Characters: Shang Qinghua, Shen Yuan | Shen Qingqiu, Liu Qingge, System (Scum Villain)
Additional Tags: Pre-Canon, Shen Jiu | Original Shen Qingqiu and Shen Yuan | Shen Qingqiu are the Same Person, Shang Qinghua & Shen Yuan | Shen Qingqiu Friendship, Shang Qinghua is a Mess, Attempt at Humor, Mission Fic, System Shenanigans (Scum Villain), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence
Shang Qinghua was in trouble. The absolutely worst kind of trouble. The kind of trouble that he really honestly did not deserve to suffer. Trouble that came in the shape of one Shen Qingqiu, who is currently staring him down like he’s a mouse in the sight of a very irritated cat. Which, really, was how Shen Qingqiu always stared at him but today it was something he could not easily escape with his list of excuses.
Admittedly that particular list was growing more and more short with each time he had to escape any of his fellow future Peak Lords. He should really update that before he runs out again.
Anyway, not currently important and also useless because his teacher (and the other current Peak Lords for that matter) thought that having Shang Qinghua ‘bond’ with his fellow and future coworker was a good idea.
It was a terrible idea. One he was more and more convinced would end in disaster as Shen Qingqiu’s eyes grew more and more narrow over the edge of his fan. Probably because Shang Qinghua has been standing here, staring, not saying anything. Mouth hanging a bit too open and eyes glazed over.
Right.
Fuck.
“It’s uh-” he says, well tries to say but the words don’t seem to fully squeak past his lips. He knew this was a bad idea, he’d even told his teacher it was a bad idea.
But nooo Qinghua you’ve got to get on better with your peers. Go tell Shen Qingqiu about this absolutely horrible mission us Peak Lords are sending you both on. Oh and also tell Liu Qingge too, because , for some reason, we think you’ve got a death wish so we’re sending you with the two people most likely to kill each other and catch you in the crossfire.
Shen Qingqiu fans himself, expression unmoving as the other man gives off an already perfect impression of an aloof immortal scholar. People are moving around them, giving them a wide berth while at the same time clearly trying to listen in. Gossips, all of them, he thinks with an internal roll of his eyes.
Shang Qinghua could care less. Mostly because he’s too busy going through all his options and plans on how to fake his death to get of this situation. Plans that, unfortunately, are all immediately getting shot down by blaring red text that’s being shoved into his face and a ringing in his ears that he just knows he’s going to be hearing all week now.
System, please have mercy. He cries quietly within the confines of his own head.
[Thank you for reaching the automated messaging system. The System is currently down for updates. Please continue your efforts in our absence!]
He cries a little bit harder at that.
“Shidi,” Shen Qingqiu’s voice is poisonous sweet, “Is there a reason you’ve stopped me or should I assume you’re having another one of your,” he scrunches his face in disgust before it’s quickly hidden by his fan, “fits.”
Shang Qinghua lets out a weak laugh before he swallows and powers through with his nonexistent confidence. “We’vegotamissiontogether.” The look he gets from that jumble of words could almost freeze him to death faster than Mobei-Jun ever could. He coughs into his hand and tries again. “Mission, we uh have one. Together,” then adding in his tiniest voice, “with Liu Qingge.”
Shen Qingqiu’s fan snaps shut loud enough to make him tense. “And the mission is?” He asks with an air of impatience.
“A cursed well? Or maybe just a cursed town? There’s been mixed reports.” And nothing of it was familiar to Shang Qinghua. Which was bad, but also could mean that this mission was so boring it never made it into any of his drafts. Which, Yay!, if that’s the case. It’s just... the system flagged this mission as priority which makes him really doubt it’s going to be easy in any way.
“I’ll be sure to inform our Shidi then.”
“No!” Shang Qinghua yells out fast enough that it seems to catch both him and Shen Qingqiu by surprise. “I, uh I’ve got it! Hahaha, no need to worry! In fact, I’ve already told him!” He has not. But it’s not like Shen Qingqiu will check.
...Right???
Shang Qinghua’s stomach drops as Shen Qingqiu gives him a mean smile. “Oh good, then I can discuss the details with him when I meet with him later.” Shen Qingqiu turns on his heel, robes fluttering behind him as he walks off with an air of complete untouchableness.
Shang Qinghua stares after him, brain uncomprehending of what he’d just heard until it finally seems to kick into gear.
Wait...WHAT??????
[Update Complete.]
[Error: New Story Element Detected.]
[Attempting to remove…]
[Error: Load-bearing Story Element cannot be removed.]
[¯\_( ツ )_/¯ ]
Shang Qinghua has a problem. A very big one. One he should have noticed much sooner considering that he’s, you know, the author of this story. The thing is you miss quite a bit when you’re too busy avoiding everyone and everything that has nothing to do with learning the logistics of An Ding Peak. Well he says avoiding but it’s more that he really doesn’t have much time to do anything else. An Ding keeps the whole fucking place running like a well-oiled machine, that constantly needs repairs because someone is bound to blow something up.
Honestly, why did he put all of this bullshit on one Peak to handle??? That was a terrible, terrible choice. One Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky should have fixed on at least the first draft but well, too late for that, isn’t it.
So maybe because of that, it is really his fault that he might have missed a few things. Important things. Things like, for example, the 180 of Shen Qingqiu’s personality?!?!?! Or well not a complete 180. He’s still an absolute bastard. It’s just that he’s not as much of one to certain people he should hate with a burning passion. It’s so weird. So very fucking weird.
Shang Qinghua can’t help but watch in fascination, from very very far away, as what should be a train-wreck of a situation ends up being a normal civil conversation as Shen Qingqiu and Liu Qingge meet each other on one of the rainbow bridges. No yelling, no cold looks. Nothing that would indicate any kind of loathing on eithers part.
Just what looks like a normal greeting that turns into a conversation as they walk together toward Qing Jing Peak. Which is also a shock, but Shang Qinghua can only process a bit of this at a time. They’re just talking. Normal talking. Well, as normal as either of those two can get in any case.
What do they even have to talk about that would engross both of them so much???… Actually, you know what, he doesn’t want to know. It’s probably about monsters and he’s been avoiding any and all information on those because he does not want to see his nightmares in real life. Or as close to real life as this gets.
System?, He taps into that invisible force in his head, I think something’s broken?
[No errors detected! Please continue your hard work host!]
There is definitely an error! I’m staring at the error!!
[Story is operating at the correct parameters host!]
It is not. This had never been in his story. Liu Qingge and Shen Qingqiu have never ever gotten along past, present, or future. It was part of the whole buildup for everyone thinking Shen Qingqiu had purposefully killed Liu Qingge! This is-
Shang Qinghua’s thoughts freeze as he spots Yue Qingyuan making his way towards what is sure to be disaster. He almost wants to cover his eyes to avoid seeing the ultimate fallout of this whole situation. Oh fuck, what if this is why Liu Qingge will hate Shen Qingqiu? What if they were originally friends but Shen Qingqiu spurning Yue Qingyuan led to their ultimate fallout?
That… That would actually make such a good story.
But still, Shang Qinghua cries in his heart, Couldn’t this have waited until after their mission together at least?
He does not want to deal with that aftermath.
Yue Qingyuan greets them just as Shang Qinghua starts to turn around just to avoid any possibility of being caught in the crossfire. He stops though when he notices Shen Qingqiu look directly at Yue Qingyuan. Acknowledging the existence of the other man before simply returning to whatever conversation he’s having with Liu Qingge. He doesn’t even glare angrily as Yue Qingyuan starts to walk right beside him!
Yue Qingyuan is smiling. Clearly just enjoying listening to whatever the other two are talking about.
…….WTF?????????
Ok. Ok this is fine. Totally fine. Shen Qingqiu has been put under a spell or cursed or switched out. All of which are technically really very bad but that’s okay! Right? This has to be part of the story. Otherwise the system would say something. RIGHT????
Everything is going to be awful when whatever this is gets undone. Which maybe explains why Shen Qingqiu becomes so cold and even more fucked up in the future that Shang Qinghua wrote. And…. Shang Qinghua is absolutely going to abandon the sect first chance he can get because he is not going to be dealing with any of that. He especially does not want to be the reason Shen Qingqiu snaps out of whatever the fuck is going on with him.
…..No. NONnonononono…. Come on, please don’t do this to him, system.
Maybe, maybe this doesn’t have anything to do with Shen Qingqiu? Maybe it’s something completely different…. Like, really, there’s hundreds of scholars between all of the peaks. It doesn’t have to mean Shen Qingqiu.
[Objective: Find out what’s wrong with Shen Qingqiu!]
……… You’re really going to do this to him, aren’t you system? You’re going to make him get in the middle of whatever’s happening to Shen Qingqiu.
[Good luck, Host!]
Fuck.
[Scanning.]
[Multiple Error’s Detected.]
[Universe reboot initiated.]
[Error: Too many reboots detected. Current reboot abandoned.]
[Host 01 given priority mission to find source of errors.]
[ ( ﾉ◕ヮ◕ ) ﾉ *: ･ﾟ✧ ]
Shang Qinghua sits in the back of a carriage (mostly against his will). In front of him sits a man who would kill him and make his death look like an unfortunate accident just for breathing the wrong way. And on his left is a man who’ll kill him outright if he ever finds out that Shang Qinghua is a spy for a demon lord.
Really it could be worse, is what he keeps telling himself. But considering this is actually his worst nightmare come to life it’s not really working. So instead, he plays catatonic, staring at the spot where Shen Qingqiu is not sitting but can be seen just enough out of the corner of Shang Qinghua’s eye to tell if he’s going to go for Shang Qinghua’s throat.
Shen Qingqiu’s fan flutters lazily as his eyes never leave Shang Qinghua’s nervously sweating form. At least, Shang Qinghua thinks, I don’t have to worry about Liu Qingge staring at me. The warrior having pulled back the carriage’s curtain to watch the passing scenery. His arms crossed and posture tight. Very clearly as uncomfortable as Shang Qinghua is.
...Maybe Shang Qinghua should have been more insistent on driving the carriage. He, maybe, could have avoided this whole suffocating atmosphere.
“Shang Qinghua,” Shen Qingqiu’s voice is sharp in the confines of this too small space, “Did you get more information on this mission? Or are we going in as blind as you seemed to be when you first told me about it.”
“Uh, yes,” his face twitches in irritation. He’s not useless, he does in fact know how to do his job! Shang Qinghua looks away, quickly pretending to fumble through his things for his qiankun bag just to give him a few extra seconds of not dealing with any of this. When he finds it, he pulls free several different reports he’d managed to snag before anyone could tell him to just make copies. “A village up in the Moon Valleys was at first reported as having suddenly disappeared.”
That seems to get Liu Qingge’s attention. Eyes drawn straight to Shang Qinghua as he asks in confusion, “An entire village is gone?”
“Well yes and no. It was first reported as gone, then a passing traveler claimed to have been there but when he tried to lead people back to the village he couldn’t find it again. It’s been like that for months now, where someone will get lucky and make it to the village but not be able to find it again when they leave.”
“Months?” Shen Qingqiu’s eyebrow raises, “The villagers are just now seeking help?”
Shang Qinghua shakes his head, “Not the villagers, they don’t seem able to understand that their village is impossible to find. Worse they don’t even realize they can’t leave. They’ll try, end up straight back there with no memory of ever having tried to leave.” He quickly shuffles through the reports before tapping on one, “It’s the village head of one of the neighboring villages that’s asking for help and this is after going to the sect he’s supposed to and not receiving any help from them.”
“Which sect?”
Shang Qinghua makes a face, “Huan Haua Palace.”
Shen Qingqiu hums in displeasure, fan coming up to cover half of his face. (Probably making faces at Shang Qinghua but he’s not brave enough to call him out on it.) Then the fan clicks shut, a look that’s all business on Shen Qingqiu’s face as he moves the conversation back on to the problem at hand. “It could be a Maze Array, though I don’t see why or how it would make the villagers forget like that.”
“We had some people sent out to check for that beforehand but they’ve had no luck. We did get reports back saying it felt like they were moving through a thick fog even though they could clearly see everything around them. No one’s found the village again, yet.”
“So it is something that alters perception, it’s just not the easy answer.”
“When is it ever the easy answer?” Shang Qinghua mutters, shuffling the papers again just to keep his hands busy. “Anyway, we’re just supposed to see if we can sense anything the others couldn’t and if we’re lucky maybe end up at the village itself.”
Liu Qingge’s frown deepens, “Has anyone been reported missing?”
Shang Qinghua shakes his head before stopping himself, he thinks about it before he shrugs, “Not that we’ve been told about at least.”
“We’ll need to confirm it with someone when we get there, it could be a Haze Spider Demon.”
“Those haven’t been seen for years in the human realm Liu-shidi,” Shen Qingqiu says with a look of clear interest. “Unless you’re thinking...?”
“The mission I was telling you about,” Liu Qingge agrees. And it’s so very fucking weird that they just did that. “An abyssal tear opened up recently.” He adds, clearly for Shang Qinghua’s benefit. (Not that he’s complaining.) “Me and a few other students got sent to deal with some of the monster’s that had made it through.”
“You think a few monsters made it past you?”
Liu Qingge shakes his head, leaning back into his seat and clearly making himself comfortable. “No, we got them all. But it could mean another tear opened up either before or after the one we took care of. Usually if you get one you should expect at least three more within the same range of area.”
Well. Great. Just what he wanted to deal with. Shang Qinghua sighs in his heart. It’s never easy. At least he hasn’t gotten a ‘Survive’ mission with no other details from the System. Actually... it’s been kind of weird how much information he has gotten from the System. It’s never been this talkative in the past.
[If Host wants, this System can revert to it’s original settings!]
NO! No, he’s good. You’re doing such a good job system. Please don’t abandon him.
“It wouldn’t explain the villagers reactions.” Shen Qingqiu says with a pointed look at Liu Qingge, drawing Shang Qinghua’s attention back to the current situation.
“If it is a Haze Spider Demon it means other things could have come through the tear.”
“True.” Shen Qingqiu taps his fan against his lips before an evil smile curls along his lips. “Shang-Shidi how much do you know about the monsters from the Abyss?”
Shang Qinghua feels dread creep up his spine.
Then proceeds the longest carriage ride of Shang Qinghua’s life where he gets to hear the very detailed list of all the horrible monsters that could be causing this. He regrets ever learning how to write by the time they get to the one that’s essentially a deer with no head that eat’s peoples faces with the mouth in it’s neck.
[Scanning]
[Multiverse Leak Detected]
[Attempting to patch the hole.]
[Error]
[New Story Elements Added]
[Monsters have leveled up!]
[ (＃ °Д°) ]
“So, uh, anything new with you?” Shang Qinghua cringes as he says it. Liu Qingge had finally had enough of the carriage, deciding to scout ahead for any trouble. Leaving Shang Qinghua alone with Shen Qingqiu. He was hating every second of it.
Unfortunately, he hated the blinking mission status more. Which, for some reason, hadn’t left his vision since the system first announced it and it was growing increasingly more annoying the longer he put off any further interaction with Shen Qingqiu.
Shen Qingqiu doesn’t look up from whatever book he’s reading, giving the dry reply of, “Is there something new I should be aware of Shang Qinghua?”
“No! Uh Nope, haha It’s just so weird to see you getting along with Liu Qingge, so I was wondering what that was all about?”
Shen Qingqiu’s whole body seems to pause, before he sets a finger on whatever line in the book he’s at, looking up at Shang Qinghua with very obvious and very genuine confusion. “Liu-Shidi and I have always gotten along Shang Qinghua.”
Wait….what!? No, no, that can’t be right. He knows that can’t be right.
“What? But uh what about the thing? You know, the thing.” He doesn’t know, but there has to be something right? He remembers writing something about the beef between the two but he hasn’t paid enough attention in this life to see if anything similar had happened. Mostly because it had to happen.
Because that’s how all of this works.
Right now though? It doesn’t feel like that’s how it works. Not with the way that Shen Qingqiu is looking at him with what is probably the closest thing to genuine concern Shang Qinghua has ever gotten in this life or his previous. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about unless you were hearing rumors that I’m not aware of. Are you feeling alright?”
“Yep, fine. Hahaha must have been someone else I was thinking of.” He’s not fine. There’s a layer of sweat soaking his forehead and he can almost feel a chill down his back.
Something changed.
Something changed a long time ago.
And he never knew it had changed until now.
What else has he missed? What else has changed? How can he survive if he doesn’t know how the story is supposed to go?
Shen Qingqiu frowns at him. Then he lets out a long annoyed sigh, setting a bookmark into his novel and closing it. Before he can say anything though Shang Qinghua notices the cover of the book and wait a fucking second.
“Is that a romance novel?!” The words slip out with unbridled glee before he can control himself.
Which gets him another sigh and an eye roll too. “Yes, Shang Qinghua. It’s a romance novel.” Shen Qingqiu says dryly before adding on, “One that’s absolutely trash, but at least the characters make up for it.”
“Wait, are you hate reading it?” Forget everything else that’s going on, this is the best day of his life. Are the pieces of paper sticking out in other parts of the book notes??? Oh he bets they’re scathing. He wants to make grabby hands for the book but he carefully keeps them clamped together in his lap.
“I’m bored and this, at least, let’s me practice reviewing others works.”
“You are absolutely hate reading it.” Shang Qinghua says with joy while Shen Qingqiu glares at him. But that doesn’t matter at all. “Please let me read your notes.”
Listen, it’s not often that anyone gets the chance to see Shen Qingqiu tear apart someone that’s not them. This is the perfect opportunity even if it ends up with Shen Qingqiu murdering him. Absolutely worth it.
For a moment he does think it is going to end up with him dead but then Shen Qingqiu gives in. Offering the book for Shang Qinghua to grab. He does without hesitation. Doing a quick read through each page before getting to the notes, he can tell Shen Qingqiu did not exaggerate when he said it was trash. Fun trash, but still trash.
Though the real delight lies in each scathing comment he finds from Shen Qingqiu. It almost gives him this funny feeling of nostalgia. It’s almost like being back in the real world, reading the comments he’s gotten on Proud Immortal Demon Way.
Like, maybe way too nostalgic. Which is kind of weird, but really he should have expected Shen Qingqiu to reach that level of mean. Shang Qinghua is right about one thing though. It’s so much more enjoyable when it’s someone else being torn apart and read for filth.
Poison on our Tongues (9591 words) by depressed-sock
Gift For @dandenbo
Fandom: Mass Effect Trilogy
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Thane Krios/Jacob Taylor
Characters: Jacob Taylor, Thane Krios, Female Shepard (Mass Effect), Original Mass Effect Character(s), Karin Chakwas
Additional Tags: Undercover, kind of a jacob loyalty mission rewrite, Eden Prime (Mass Effect), Sexual Tension, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, cerberus type experiments, Slight Drell Hallucinogenic poison, Canon-Typical Violence, Mission Fic, background Chakwas/Shepard, Mention of past relationships, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Light Angst
...
Sometimes he wishes that things would stay in the past. An impossibility, of course, but still there's that part of himself that just wants to keep moving forward, refusing to look back at everything he's left behind.
Jacob stares at the new message in his inbox that blinks back at him in that fresh way of all his unread mail does when it's from a contact. Enough to draw his attention to it but not enough to draw the attention of anyone who might be looking over his shoulder. It should be easy.
One click and it's open.
The problem though, is that it's a message from a ghost. One whose been dead for years now. One he helped personally bury. The memory of it never really gone from his mind no matter what he tries. A light drizzle of rain, the hush from just him and a few others. A solid black casket, that reflected everything that got too close.
An empty casket.
He wipes a hand over his mouth, hair standing on end as he feels the buzz of his amp reacting to his emotions. He wants to move, to do anything but digging up old graves but he knows that this is something that'll dig itself up on it's own if he tries to ignore it.
Jacob opens the email not really sure what to expect but he feels like there should really be more to it than what's written in it. Maybe a 'Hello, sorry it's been so long', or maybe just a 'I'm not dead, I was never dead'. At the very least, it's not an accusation demanding to know where he was when they needed him.
No. It's just three important letters and the name of a planet with a coded message that he can read on sight.
A barking laugh escapes before he can really stop it. His hands coming up to dig the palms into eyes , hiding away the sting of tears. Really he should have expected this. Can't outrun everything towards a better tomorrow.
Not when the past is looking to drag him back down into the trenches.
He reads the message again.
SOS
Eden Prime. You know where to go.
Yeah. Yeah he does.
…
He almost wants to drop it. Never think about it again and let whatever mystery it's leading toward stay buried. But no matter how hard he tries it's there in the back of his mind. Annoying and persistent just like a message left on read with no response back.
Jacob had never wanted to go back to Eden Prime, a place he's sure Shepard wouldn't be eager to return too either. Eden Prime was a testament to everything wrong in the galaxy and how everyone in charge was willing to sweep it under the rug. It had been what made him leave the Alliance. The final straw that broke the camel's back and landed him right at Cerberus's feet.
He knows, though, that the longer he puts this off the shorter the time grows for a friend who may or may not be dead. (For a man who was something to Jacob. Something they never really put into words.)
It's a matter that's taken out of his hands late into the Normandy's night cycle, when the Commander finds herself haunting his particular area of the ship. She's not fully coordinated, dark skin a shade paler than it should be, braids loose from the bun she usually twists them into, and a hand gripping tight around the neck of a bottle that's had it's label fully peeled off.
Must be one of those nights.
"Shepard, wasn't expecting to see you tonight." He says with a raised eyebrow. She shrugs, letting out a huff of a laugh before she perches herself on the table across from him.
"You haven't told me what loose ends you want to tie up."
"Who says I have loose ends to tie up?"
The look she gives him is patronizing enough to make him feel embarrassed for even trying to deflect. "You telling me you don't?" She asks with half-lidded eyes, her mouth a straight line that's as set in stone as it usually is.
"Can't get anything past you can I?" He huffs shaking his head as that stone mouth cracks and she smirks before she takes a long gulp from her bottle. "Yeah, I've got a favor to ask. One you might not like considering where it's headed."
"You say that like I enjoy going to any of the places I've been." She snorts shaking her head. "Well lay it on me. Not like I've got much else to do tonight."
For a moment Jacob hesitates. He doesn't like to talk about the past, especially when he's too busy trying to move forward but… well this isn't exactly something he can keep in the past now, is it? "Got a message from an old friend. An SOS."
She raises her eyebrow, humming in thought. "We can set out immediately…" she gives him a long look, "But I've got a feeling there's more to this than an ask for help from an old friend?"
"Yeah, considering the person who sent it is supposed to be dead. Very dead, in fact. I'm sure you remember Eden Prime and what happened to the people there?"
She's quiet for a moment as she takes a sip of her drink. Chewing on it like maybe she can hold off answering just a second longer before she has to swallow. "I remember." The words are soft as she says it. "Kind of hard to forget it, if I'm being honest. The first domino in this long chain of never ending events and horrors."
She huffs out a laugh. "Not sure I have any right to complain, I probably would have wormed my way into the middle of this even without Eden Prime."
He smiles at that, shaking his head with a laugh of his own. "Considering how I've seen you work I absolutely believe that." Then he sobers, looking away and towards the glowing core of the ship's engines. "I don't know if I told you this but I was on Eden Prime too when everything went down. Lost most of my squad there. Including a man named Adam Tines."
Jacob finds himself leaning back against the work bench. Biting his lip as he decides on his next words. "I saw him go down. Shot in the back by a Geth, but unlike the rest of my squad I never saw him put onto any dragon's teeth."
"So there's a possibility that this SOS is from him."
"Could be. But that leads to several questions of if it is him, why did it take him this long to contact me? And why now, why there?"
Shepard hums in agreement, tilting her bottle and frowning when she finds it empty. "And if it's not him, then the question would be whose trying to draw you out." She raises an eyebrow. "You realize either way this is probably a trap, right?"
"I'm aware." He sighs, slumping a bit more against the desk. "Another reason why I wasn't going to bring it up."
Shepard sets the bottle down with a sigh, running a hand over tightly braided locks, tugging on the end of one gently before she lets her hand fall back into her lap. "I've got a bad feeling about your answer but where exactly does he want you to go?"
"Right back to the end. Or for you, I guess the start."
She sighs, the words coming out like an executioner's ax. "Eden Prime."
…
Jacob sits on the bench in front of his locker like he's done dozens of times before. In his hands he holds his old helmet from his days in the Alliance and Corsairs. Twisting it back and forth in his hands, watching the way the black visor reflects him back in it. Hoping that maybe it might hold all the answers.
He doesn't remember the last time he wore it or why he's kept it along with the rest of his old armour. It's just another weight holding him down, keeping him frozen in place instead of moving forward like he should be. Making him question if he's really on the right path, if this is really truly is the best way to help people. To help humanity.
There's a broken huff of a laugh that escapes before he stands and puts it back into the locker.
What he's doing now has to be better. There's no regulations, no red tape in between him and immediately being able to act to help save people. That's the point isn't it?
He breathes, grabs his pistol and moves to start cleaning it. Taking it apart with a practiced methodical touch. There's still something that's bothering him. A feeling that's itching at the back of his skull and making his amp act up more than it should. It feels like sparks of energy running along his skin, arching down his spine.
It's all in his head but still… there's something off about all of this. He knows it's got to be a trap, but the more he thinks about it the more he starts to question the point of it.
Adam was… he just was. Jacob knows there's no one left alive who knew or could have guessed about their closer connection. That they hadn't been just squad mates. What happened between them had been an eye opening experience for himself but it never got anywhere that it would be an obvious soft point for him.
But maybe that's the point. Maybe instead, it's the connection back to Eden Prime. Something that would draw more than himself back.
Is it even a trap for him?
He frowns, hesitating over that thought like he's chewing on something far too sour.
The elevator doors open with a soft hiss that draws his attention up to the figure who enters. Near silent footsteps would have been enough to tell him exactly who it is but still he finds himself meeting the gaze of Shepard's pet assassin. Dark alien eyes meeting and holding his.
It's barely even a moment before the other man nods his head and looks away. Yet for some reason that brief look still leaves something dark coiling in his chest. Something empty and hungry. Starving for attention.
He shakes his head, refocuses his attention to his gun. Jacob knows better than to sigh or complain about Shepard's choice in squad mates.
They need all the hands they can get and besides Shepard's just using the tools she's been given. She isn't the one who made this growing list of questionable people. That's all on Cerberus.
Still… not the first choice he would have made for this particular mission.
He bites the side of cheek, feels the growing stiffness in his spine the longer he keeps his back to the assassin. It takes beating back every instinct in his head to just continue cleaning his gun without fully turning around.
The rustle of clothes, he can almost imagine the way Krios's coat would come apart, the way it would slide down the mans arms. Bare chested, and built in an alien way. Or maybe the muscular structure is similar enough to humans that it wouldn't be that strange at all.
"Didn't think an Assassin would be interested in walking into a trap." He can't help but comment.
Jacob can practically hear the way the other man pauses. So loud in a room filled with the vibrations and hum of the Normandy's engine.
Krios gives a huff of amusement. "I'm not. However, Shepard mapped out the area and found a point where I can give you both covering fire." Jacob turns and finds the Drell making a face. "Not my preferred method but two people are less likely to spook your friend than three."
"I'm sure you'd rather get up close and personal." Jacob can't fully keep the sneer out of his voice. Krios blinks, head tilting as he studies Jacob. There's nothing hostile in the gesture but it still has his hackles raising.
Before he can say anything more the elevator dings and Shepard walks out. Not looking at either of them as she reads a data-pad in her hand and walks past them. "Be nice." She says like she's been here the whole time and knows every word they've said and will say.
Jacob sighs and turns back to finish putting his gun back together. She's right, there's far more important things to focus on.
…
The place they set down at is more unfamiliar than familiar. There's no sign of any of the fighting that had taken place here only a few years ago. No dragon's teeth scattered about, no explosive holes in the ground, or bullet marks scored into the prefabs. The whole place is almost too perfect in it's serenity.
It's also grown in size. The small prefabs that had been set up for scientists and soldiers are now practically buildings in their own right. Closer to a small town rather than a camp. There's a part of himself that's proud of that. The people here picked up the pieces and built it all back up, better than new.
There's another part of himself, though, that's taking in the space, the corners, the weak-points. Seeing a battlefield with very little advantage if an enemy got up high enough to have clear sightliness.
Shepard's almost as tense as he is. Helmet tilting in minor increments as she checks each and every bit of her surroundings while keeping an eye on whatever information her helmet sensors are giving her.
"I'm not picking up any life-signs." Her voice is quiet, eyes meeting his through her visor. "That's never a good sign."
Especially nowadays.
The comn in his ear activates, Krios voice coming over with a crystal clear rumble. "No bodies outside the buildings. Hopefully they've just been evacuated."
Jacob huffs, shaking his head as he puts a hand on the pistol clipped to his hip. "No way the Alliance could have convinced every single person to leave of their own free will. Besides we haven't picked up any information on the Alliance trying to evacuate the people here."
"Agreed." Shepard pulls the shotgun from her back, moving towards a building with an open doorway. As she steps in Jacob turns, pulling his own gun free and holding it up as he protects her back. He hears her quiet steps, the way she clearly shifts things out of her path with her foot. "There's things left in place like Freedoms Progress."
"The Collectors then?" Thane asks, the raspy rumble of his voice making a shiver run down Jacob's spine. That's just what they need, another colony dead and gone right from under their noses.
Jacob finds himself biting the side of his cheek. Eyes sweeping the area. Sun beating down on him as insects chirp in the distance. There's an energy here. Pulling him to move, to seek out what he knows should be here.
"Somethings not right," he says distracted. Hands dipping with the pistol as he stands up just a bit straighter. "There's been no report of Collectors or missing colonists here. It doesn't add up." The Illusive man wouldn't have left out that kind of information, not when it could lead to more clues about the Collectors.
No, this is… this has to be something different.
Shepard steps back out, shoulders stiff, fingers tight around her gun. He can feel the way her biotic field shifts around her. It's almost an all in composing, devouring feeling of unease. It's not often he picks up anything like that from her. She's usually got an iron grip of control on every single aspect of her abilities.
So it's obviously not just him whose getting a bad feeling about all this. Jacob looks back at her and knows she can feel the way his own field turns like a rolling storm as she nods her head in understanding.
"I'll have Joker and EDI run a scan, maybe they'll pick up something we can't."
Out of the corner of his eye, there's a sharp glint from one of the roofs. The opposite direction of where their assassin should have found himself. "Shit," he barely has time to knock Shepard back into the doorway and for his barrier to flare to life as the shot aimed at his head is absorbed in a burst of energy. "Shepard!"
"I see them!" She's barely even stumbled, already pushing past him, running towards the shot. In a flash of blue she's gone. Like a bullet shot straight out of a canon.
"Shepard's made contact," the assassin says with a sound of amusement. "Though I'm sure they're wishing she hadn't."
"I wouldn't want to be hit by a full on biotic charge either." He's already rising back to his feet. Running towards the flash of biotic energy that drags the sniper up before slamming them back onto the roof with a hard crack and a muffled scream.
Efficient might be too simple of a word to call Shepard.
"Only one sniper from what I can see but I'll move positions to make sure there's no one else here who can surprise us."
Jacob holds his tongue about how Krios should have seen the first one. Not the time, nor the place for that kind of thinking.
By the time he makes it to the roof the sniper is on the ground one hand raised in surrender and the other lying limp in their lap as Shepard keeps a steady aim on them with her shotgun. He steps up beside her, his own pistol drawn and aimed.
The sniper's clearly outfitted with good gear, covered head to toe in a synthetic weave that could take a good number of shots before it started failing. But they're clearly not used to having to deal with someone who can fight back or maybe they're just not used to someone with biotics.
Jacob glares down at them."Not a very good trap if you're the only one here."
The sniper startles a bit, head tilting like they're going to try and check their surroundings before they force themself still. "Trap? Listen all I was told to do was to take a few potshots if anyone got too close to her lab. No one said anything about fucking biotics, just farmers."
Shepard shifts, gun going to her back so that she can cross her arms and stare down unimpressed. "A merc." She huffs shaking her head, "And potshots huh? Looked more like you were aiming for my friend's head."
"Then you need to get your eyes checked because I wasn't." An obvious lie. "Besides you came in armoured, I figured you could use a bit more motivation to scram and that your shields could take it."
"Uh-huh."
Jacob doesn't roll his eyes, no matter how much he wants too. "You said a lab. Whose lab?"
The sniper goes quiet shifting nervously as they take in their options. "…A Doctor. She didn't give a name. Just told me to guard the entrance for a week. I'm pretty sure she's planning on destroying everything in there." Another shift, they're hand falling into their lap. "Listen, if you let me go I'll show you where it is. This job aint' worth my life."
Shepard tilts her head, and he catches her eye staring out at him through the side of her visor. "This is your friend we're looking for."
Jacob hesitates, thinks through the information and how it could relate at all to the message he got and he just doesn't see how the pieces fit. Not yet, at least.
There's really only one option here. "Show us."
…
The merc holds one of his arms close to his chest as he guides them down a set of stairs, the air growing colder and colder with each step. Jacob breathes out, each puff of air growing increasingly visible.
"How far down does this go?" Shepard asks, eyes never moving from the merc's back.
Krios takes up the rear guard and Jacob can practically feel the man's own stare. Whether it's on the merc or himself he couldn't say. Either way, it feels impossible to escape. He breathes, slowly surely. Settles that nervous feeling in his gut.
"Far enough." The merc snorts shaking his helmeted head. "Just the way the good doctor likes it."
They step in through the doors and it takes everything in his power to beat back the wave of nausea it induces. Bodies laid out in what looks like clear caskets. Rows and rows of them in this dark metal room.
"Fuck." The word is out before he has time to even think about it.
Shepard hisses under her breath, grabbing the merc by his collar. "What the hell is this?!"
The merc raises his good arm up in surrender. "I'm only supposed to stop people from investigating. I had no clue that this is what's down here!"
He can almost imagine the sneer of disgust Shepard must be giving the man from under the safety of her helmet. "Sure you didn't." The merc doesn't even have time to react before a biotic fist slams into his helmet hard enough to crack it, knocking him down for the count. "Let him sleep that off, we'll drag him back up and leave him to the authorities after we're done here."
She shakes out her hand as she stomps forward, her spine straight and shoulders stiff.
"You always know just the right way to make friends, Shepard." He teases, watching her posture shift just a bit into something less stressed.
"At least there's no window's nearby." Thane comments blandly as he steps up next to Jacob, who can't help his own small huff of laughter.
Shepard flips the both of them off, refusing to give either of them her time by looking back. "Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up and while you do that maybe start looking for clues."
He hides a smile before he starts to walk down through a row, the good mood quickly draining as he looks into the caskets with a growing sense of horror. Each person is in a different state of being taken apart and put back together. Cybernetics spliced through them, still working and almost alive as they move and adjust the bodies pieces into new positions.
"God, are they trying to make husks?" Shepard mutters, as she presses the palm of her hand to the glass of one of the tubes.
It looks like it but still there's almost something other about it. He frowns, moves up to the next row and suddenly it seems to almost click. "I don't think husks are the end goal, Shepard." Whoever this was looks far closer to human rather than a husk.
What would be grey skin is a warm brown that been carved through with the black and silver of the cybernetics. Their face a mixture of features that don't quite fit, their expression blank and dead with unseeing cybernetic eyes that stare back. The body itself twisted and warped into something that should feel familiar but just isn't the longer he looks.
Whoever, whatever this is, is a whole new thing that's been created out of multiple people.
"Fuck." Shepard says with feeling as she steps up next to him. "Look around, see if you can find any information about who did this and…" She hesitates before she adds softly. "See if there's a list of names for the victims."
He closes his eyes for a moment and breathes. Swallows back the guilt and rising emotions. Most likely he's going to find Adam's name on that list. If the list even exists.
There's a firm hand on his shoulder, a soft squeeze before Krios moves past him. For a moment he can't help but watch the man walk away from him. Something inside him easing just a bit.
…
There's more than enough terminal's scattered about for each of them to take one and look through it. He almost wishes there wasn't considering everything he's been reading. So many people, so many bodies. It didn't matter their gender or age, each one had been desecrated and taken apart.
What's worse is that some of these notes look like Miranda's from when she was putting Shepard back together. He wipes a hand over his mouth, pushes back the queasiness.
"Each document I've read through has been signed off by a Dr. L." His voice is hoarse as he says it.
"Jacob, look at this."
He turns toward Shepard and feels his heart drop. The logo is plain to see and unmistakable on her terminal screen. "No that's. Cerberus wouldn't do this."
Shepard doesn't comment, only brings up the next few pages of a report. Dr. Victoria Leshly had been in charge here, the most recent personal entry from her though is from a month ago. "Everything I've read so far is about her experiments trying to make a husk that she can control. She wanted something that could blend in with the rest of humanity and not be noticeable."
The implications are horrifying.
"What's her connection to Cerberus?" There's acid on the back of his tongue. He's almost afraid to know. They couldn't have approved something like this, how would this help Humanity? How would this help anyone?
She pulls up another file, and Jacob almost wants to close his eyes and ignore what's right in front of him. He refuses to do that. To be a part of the very problem he's so fucking tired of.
They're saved backups and copies of emails he's sure no longer exist anywhere else in the galaxy. Multiple correspondences between her and the Illusive Man himself.
"We'll have time to go through it on the ship," Shepard's voice is soft, her hand coming to rest on his arm. She squeezes it lightly before she returns her focus to the terminal. "I'll keep EDI locked out of it just in case. I don't want her reporting it back to him."
He nods his head, almost afraid to speak. "I haven't found anything that would explain why there's no one here other than one guard. Where's this doctor? Why isn't she here?"
"Looks like she ran to me." Shepard types a few more things into the terminal. "And left everything behind to get out as fast as possible."
He leans forward on the table, feels the anger simmering underneath. The anger at least, feels a whole lot better than the sense of betrayal that's starting to creep in. "She's got years of work here, though. What would make her leave all her work behind?"
"The same reason why there was a sniper hiding out of sight and by himself." She turns and he can almost feel the glare she points at the merc who still lies passed out on the ground. "Because someone wanted her dead."
It makes sense. A hasty retreat, everything left behind. But then he adds in the SOS he got and it's still not fully adding up.
"Someone wanted us to find this place." That's the only thing he can think of. Someone else knew about this place and wanted them to find it. Not the doctor. Not if the merc is telling the truth and she does has plans to destroy this place and any evidence that could tie back to her.
More importantly, he thinks, Someone wanted him to find it. There's a dozen other ways to get this kind of information to Shepard. Hell they'd just need to put it on a nearby unguarded terminal anywhere in Shepard's vicinity and she would have found it. It didn't have go through him. But someone wanted him to be here.
"There's a list." Thane's voice is quiet but it feels like the loudest thing in the room. Jacob turns his head, the Drell is looking down at his screen with a grim frown. He glances up, sympathy clear as he pulls away and allows Jacob access.
The list is thorough. He's not sure if that makes it better or worse, knowing so many small details about each and every person whose body is here.
Tines, Adam is only one of three hundred but the name is still enough to punch the breath from his chest.
Jacob swallows around the lump in his throat. Closes his eyes and pushes away from the terminal. Walking back through the rows and not even daring to glance down in case he recognizes something. He takes the steps back up two at a time.
As soon as the sun hits him it all almost feels too much. He knew that this was the most likely outcome. His friend dead and someone else dragging his ghost like a lure. He just would never had thought it would lead to anything like this.
He almost hopes Adam had already been dead by the time the doctor got her hands on him. Hopes dearly that the man wasn't alive when she began to take him apart and turn him into something other.
Jacob's hands curl into fists. Anger, disgust, grief all warring with each other in his head.
Krios steps out of the door behind him, and he almost wants to rage at the man. It's because of people like him, it's because- he breathes closes his eyes and swallows all those petty thoughts back down his throat.
"I'm sorry for your loss."
"He's been dead for years."
"That doesn't mean that it doesn't still hurt when someone gives you false hope." He says it like a man whose familiar with that exact concept. Jacob sighs, rubs at his eyes and pulls himself back together.
"You're not wrong." Shakes his head as the laugh he gives is as fake as everything around him feels right now. "It just really doesn't help that my boss might be the reason all this even happened." He swallows, it's something he didn't even want to consider but… he can't ignore this. He needs to know for sure.
There's no point standing around here, there's information back down there and a target he knows he can go after. "We should get back down there." It was stupid to leave in the first place.
Thane shakes his head. "Shepard's already downloading all the information, we can go back through it on the Normandy." He puts a hand to Jacobs chest, stopping him from going past him. "There's no need to disturb the dead's rest and your own peace of mind."
Jacob should be angry, should push past anyway. Instead he finds his own hand covering Thane's. They're closer then they've ever been, barely any space between them. Jacob's heart is in his throat and he knows. He knows, exactly the thoughts he keeps denying himself since he first saw the assassin.
His mouth opens. To say something, anything. He leans forward.
The ground shakes under their feet and smoke billows up out of the stairway. They both stare for a moment, too shocked to do anything else.
Then Jacob curses, pushing past and back down the steps. "Shepard!"
…
Jacob stares into the Normandy's medical bay where Shepard lies deathly still, hooked up to machines that work to repair her. He remembers a time when he'd seen almost exactly the same thing while on that station. As Miranda meticulously put Shepard back together piece by piece.
Except this time Shepard is breathing and alive. Not a corpse being Frankenstein-ed back from the dead.
He winces, the thought immediately reminding him of the lab. He pinches the bridge of his nose, tries not to feel the sour taste of failure. He should never have left the room.
"It's not your fault."
Jacob doesn’t jump, no matter how much he wants too. Instead he slowly turns his head towards the speaker.
Krios isn't looking back at him, instead his gaze is directly where Jacob's had been. Focused completely on Shepard.
He chews his cheek, before he sighs. "It's not yours either."
Krios's lips twitch but he doesn't comment on that. "The mercenary's body couldn't be recovered, but the data Shepard saved on her omnitool is all still there."
Meaning they've still got their leads. But who knows how fast they'll dry up before Shepard can fully recover. He sighs, hand covering his eyes as his fingers dig into his eyelids. This was all a mistake. He should let it go, there's far more important things to worry about.
Those people are already dead and gone. His friend is dead and gone. The Collectors are out there planning to do far worse to people who are still alive. It should be easy to just give up and move on.
"There's coffee." Krios says out of the blue.
Jacob drops his hand, looking at the man with a raised eyebrow. "Coffee?"
Krios shrugs. "There's plenty of information for us to go through, I assumed it might be needed."
He stares for a moment, unsure what to say before he just gives a huff of laughter.
It's a white flag, even though it's Jacob who should really be waving it. He looks back at Shepard, chest rising and falling as Chakwas stands watch. Her hand covering Shepard's.
"Yeah," he says, "Alright. Lets see what we can dig up."
…
The more he looks through the files the more of a horror story this whole thing becomes. Leshly had been given one written order from the Illusive Man: find a way for us to survive the Reapers. Apparently for Dr. Leshly that meant: find a way to keep your mind intact as a husk.
She'd started out on people already turned into husks, the victims from Eden Prime. Alliance personal, his squad, the scientists, the civilians. He swallows as he tosses the datapad on the table, head falling into his hands. It apparently didn't take long before she'd devolved into making her own husks. First with dragons teeth, then with her own technology as she tried to recreate it.
Her mission at some point had turned from keeping a person's mind intact to having complete and utter control of them.
"There's several correspondence's between her and a Collector agent." Thane voice a smooth rumble before reads out loud, "The colony defenses will be down tomorrow night, be quiet and no one will ever know you were here."
"She sold out the colonists." Jacob feels numb, digs the palm of his hands into his eyes. That's why it was empty, why no one even knew they were gone. She'd helped the Collectors take them.
"Yes." Thane pulls no punches just gives the complete and utter pointblank truth. "If we match the dates of her emails to the Illusive Man it's around the time of her fallout with Cerberus."
Those emails had been sparse, nothing concrete to really tell Jacob how much the Illusive Man had known about what the doctor was doing. (That lack of acknowledgment, however, says more than Jacob would like.) Her last few emails had been her demanding research funding back with the Illusive Man cutting her off completely.
"Doesn't mean he didn't also have a hand in it." Jacob mutters before raising his head and watching as Krios thumbs through more of the information. "I don't think there's much else to find." Or go off of. They'd have to ask Cerberus to look into it and that… that just makes him feel sick.
"I think there's still plenty to find. All it means is that she needs funding from someone else." Thane looks up at him with a smirk. "There's a few other names here that I recognize, that put their own money into whatever they think she's researching. Names that are all going to be in one place a week from now on Illum."
A place where the good doctor might show up herself to secure more funding. "And you know this because?"
"I'm sure you can guess." Thane's inner eyelids blink slowly and yeah, Jacob can give a few good guesses. He decides it's probably for the best if he has plausible deniability though.
"How do we get in?" The security will be tight, if Shepard had been up to her full strength she probably could be invited in just by being herself. Without her though, they'll need another way in.
Thane's head tilts, "I might have a way. Let me reach out to a contact first." The man is practically glowing with satisfaction. Clearly very confident that he has a way in.
It's honestly a lot more attractive then Jacob would ever openly admit too.
He huffs out a breath, leaning back into his chair with a relief that feels oddly right. "Alright. Tell me what you find out when your done talking to your contact."
"Of course." Thane's voice is practically a purr.
Jacob finds himself swallowing. He could-
He shakes his head, rises and leaves the room despite how much he feels like he should stay.
…
"You know, I'm pretty certain that you didn't like Thane." Shepard says with a raised eyebrow, looking a whole lot less like she got blown up. Though she's certainly not fully up to much, not with her still in the medical bay, leg carefully raised up and kept immobilized. "Something about not trusting an assassin to watch your back?"
Jacob gives her an unimpressed look, crossing his arms, and pretending it's not at all irritating that she's coherent enough to give him shit. "I can admit when I'm wrong, Shepard. I jumped to conclusions and I shouldn't have."
She hums in response, nodding her head like she's drunk and just doesn't know the right amount of strength to use or when to stop nodding. "So it was all pigtail pulling. I thought it was but I didn't want to say anything and embarrass you both." She grins and he decides it's maybe best to start ignoring her.
"How long is she going to be on the good stuff, and when can I expect her to forget about all this?" He looks over at Chakwas who glances back with a grin that almost matches Shepard's.
"She'll be on it awhile longer, once we get her leg to no longer be a shattered mess we can start easing her off of it. However, I wouldn't put any credits on her forgetting anything any time soon."
He sighs.
"It's not that bad." Shepard says with a roll of her eyes. "I'm happy when my team doesn't want to kill each other." She frowns, "Are you guys sure you want to head out with just each other though? I don't like that you won't have the extra backup." She blinks and scrunches her nose. "Is each other a word?"
"It is and we'll be fine Shepard. It'll be a quick in and out to grab the invitations, then just confronting Leshly where she can't escape. We'll be back just in time to see both you and Dr. Chakwas making eyes at each other as she lets you leave medical."
He feels a rough tug on his leg as Shepard's biotics start to flair to life.
"No, biotics in medical." Chakwas says as she continues to write on her datapad, without even a glance back.
Shepard's biotics sputter out and she decides flipping him off is the better option here. She also gives him a long dark look, pointing a finger at him. "Ignoring that last part, you should know very well that nothing is ever easy. Ever. I am the living proof of that."
And she's not exactly wrong. He's however erring on the side of hoping for the best. Even if it feels immeasurably hard to do that right now.
"We'll be fine." He repeats firmly, like he can will it into existence. "Really, what's the worst that can happen?"
"Remember you said that when the worst happens."
Apparently having an Asari commando chase you down and almost dying in an elevator can happen. Jacob refuses to comn Shepard about it.
There's a beat to the music that seems to thrum in his ears like the pounding of someone trying to knock his teeth out. Unpleasant in all the wrong ways, just like the current company he's keeping.
Jacob pulls at the collar of his suit, doing his best to make it seem as natural as possible. It's tighter than he'd like but considering the short notice it's really the only option he had. Something he'd found for cheap because never in his life would he have expected that he should pack a fancy suit for a suicide mission.
A fancy suit for a fancy party for fancy people. All of whom would sell his left kidney and any other organs they could get their hands on if he writes his name down in the wrong place. Really not all that different from the rest of Illum. Except for perhaps the fact that the worst of the worst are gathered here tonight.
He takes a sip of the drink in his hand. Something that's blue and slides far too easily down his throat. Something that could easily get him drunk without any warning. Unfortunately, it's just not doing it fast enough.
The salarin whose decided that for some reason Jacob is the perfect person to rant to about all their problems too doesn't seem to notice the way his smile strains or the way he keeps trying to excuse himself from the conversation. There's an irritation building up, one that's already done with this whole deal. More and more it feels like the one whose supposed to be here is Shepard and not himself.
She's the one who knows how to play the part, pull the right strings, say the right words. He's not sure she even fully realizes the affect she has on people.
But Shepard's not the one here. She's still out for the count, no matter how recovered she keeps telling everyone she is. Chakwas certainly has her hands full right now.
Out of the corner of his eye he catches sight of a familiar figure as it weaves through the crowds. Red tinted glasses reflecting the room like it's as covered in blood as it should be with the amount that's on every one of these greedy son-of-a-bitche's hands.
Thane tilts his head, dark eyes meeting Jacob's from over the rim of the glasses. A slow alien blink of his eyes and then the man is moving again. Blending far too easily into the crowd like the man has always belonged here.
Jacob's breath releases in a rush of air. He hadn't even realized he'd been holding it. Not until now when it hits that he's not alone no matter how much it feels like it in this sea of scum.
Nothing to worry about with the assassin watching his back. A thought he'd never would have dared to imagine before all this happened.
"Excuse me," He says with a smile that's still too strained and an accent that doesn't quite fit his mouth, "I think I just saw my business partner and I'd like to cut her off before she starts trying to sell off everything because she's had a little too much to drink."
The salarin nods their head like they completely understand and somehow relates to the issue but Jacob doubts they care about anything he has to say. Not with how they turn, already looking for their next victim to complain too.
Jacob steps through the crowd, lets the music swell around him as he makes his way to the dance floor. His shadow a mirror on the other side of the floor. It's all so easy. Too easy.
They wade through the crowd of dancers, all of who have clearly had a bit too much to drink or are hitting a high he can't even begin to imagine. He meets Thane in the middle, his hand pressing against Thane's already open palm in an almost near perfect way. The slide of familiar smooth scales, cool to the touch and warming fast under the contact.
Thane's freehand quickly grips his hip. Squeezing softly in assurance.
"Eyes on the target yet?" Jacob mutters under his breath, moving with Thane in a dance that's slow enough for them to talk but fast enough for no one to read their lips. With the way the music is practically vibrating the building he doubts anyone would be able to hear them.
"Upper balcony to your left." Thane spins them both around so Jacob can see the older human woman whose smiling brightly as she raises a toast to a few others who crowd around her. Victoria Leshly is certainly not what he was expecting a cold hearted traitor who sold out humanity to look like.
He guesses people come in all shapes and sizes because she also doesn't look like a mad scientist who took people apart and put them back together in horrific conglomerations for fun.
He can still smell the stale blood, see the cold dead bodies that had been spliced with cybernetics. Jacob can't hide the shudder that comes with just thinking about it.
Thane's grip shifts on his hand, fingers curling around and thumb brushing his knuckles.
"Right," Jacob breathes, settling his nerves in a practiced way. "Well… guess I should go introduce myself."
"I'll be right behind you." Thane presses close whispering into his ear, a brush of hot air that sends a shiver up his spine. "In the shadows." Unseen by everyone, waiting for a chance to pounce should all this end in disaster.
Jacob squeezes the Thane's hand in return. Acknowledgement, assurance, whatever it needs to be for the both of them.
Before he lets go, though, he curses as he catches sight of another familiar figure. An Asari with purple markings, scowling out across the crowd looking like she's trying to kill every single person here with her mind.
More specifically the Asari they'd stolen the invitations from to get them through the front door only a few days ago. She's dressed up like a commando clearly looking to knock heads together rather than be a party goer here to enjoy her time. Her eyes scanning, looking for something.
Looking for him.
Because she'd caught sight of him before they could get a clean getaway. Shit.
"Trouble, twelve o'clock." He breathes out the words, turning them just a bit so Thane can catch sight of her. He frowns, starts to shift but Jacob holds tight. "Remember the elevator?"
Thane's lips involuntary twitch into a smile. "Hard for me to forget." Then he frowns, "Are you sure you can handle it? This place might make the affects worse."
Jacob rolls his eyes. "I'll be fine." He uses his free hand to pull Thane closer, lips meeting the Drell's before either of them can really think too hard about it. It's a slow kiss, languid and softer than anything he would have expected from the assassin.
Certainly softer then the desperate kiss they'd shared in the elevator when they thought they were going to die.
Thane guides him back, further into the crowd where they both disappear from the Asari's sight. By the time Jacob even thinks to pull back he's lightheaded, feeling far too relaxed and seeing shadows out of the corner of his eyes while lights spark front and center.
"Shit," he grimaces and he knew in the back of his mind exactly what he was getting into but still it's not exactly optimal state to be in while in a nest of vipers.
"Only fifteen minutes." Thane murmurs as his hands find their way to Jacob's shoulders, holding firm while avoiding anymore skin contact. There's a mixed look of want and regret on his face. His voice hushed as he says, "I can handle Leshly if you need me too."
"No!" Jacob's voice is a sharp, feeling too loud even though it barely gets him a glance from anyone around them. He adds, softer this time. "No. This is my mission, my mess to clean up. I need to look her in the eyes and see if she even regrets what she's done or if she's really just the monster everything we've found says she is."
And if the Illusive Man is too. If Jacob's been tricked again.
Thane stares him down before he nods, releasing his grip with a small amount of reluctance. "I'll distract our Asari friend while you clear your head."
"Thank you." And it's so easy to say. So easy to accept that the man in front of him has never been what he first thought of the assassin. "After this all over-" He can't make himself say it but Thane knows exactly what he means.
Thane's smile is soft as he agrees. "After this is all over." Then he's gone, disappearing back into the crowd like he'd never left it in the first place.
Jacob breathes, swallowing roughly as he tries to sort through the fog in his head and they way the room shifts in unreality. The alcohol not mixing well with the hallucinogenic poison from Thane's salvia.
It's fine though. He's powered through worse. He finds a corner, and waits for the worst of it to pass. By the time it does there's barely any ghosts that follow him to the steps that'll take him to the woman who holds all the answers he needs.
…
Doctor Leshly guides him to a private room. No running, no begging for forgiveness. Just a simple acceptance. The door slides shut behind him but noticeably doesn't lock. Uneasiness creeps up his spine.
She leans up against a desk, swirling her drink around. Bags under her eyes now noticeable under the singular light of the room and not the undulating ones at the party. It's almost same exact scene from only a week ago when Shepard had stumbled into his corner looking hunted.
This woman in front of him though, is nothing like Shepard.
"I'm honestly surprised it took this long for Cerberus to send someone." She huffs, red painted lips meeting the rim of her glass as she sips her drink. Leshly gives him a self depreciating smile. "Guess my work wasn't that important was it?"
"Cerberus didn't send me." He crosses his arms, glares at her. "I'm here because one of the people you took apart was a friend."
"And now you want revenge?" Her eyebrow quirks, smile still in place. It's almost frustrating, the lack of guilt. The lack of any emotion really.
"What I want is answers."
"You're not the only one." She sets her drink down, hands grip the edge of the desk. Nails digging into the wood for a moment. "Everyone want some kind of answer and it's never the one they want to hear."
And she's not exactly wrong, but these are answers he needs.
"What did the Illusive Man want you to really do? There has to be something more. Orders that never got written down or recorded."
She stares at him. Blinks. Then laughs like he just told her the funniest joke in the world. "That's what you want to know? Getting cold feet about your employment, are you. I bet you got the whole we're doing this for the betterment of humanity speech and didn't even bother to-"
"Answer the question."
"Control." Leshly shrugs. "That's really all there is too it. Control over people and over the Reapers. I'd guess for the ability to make sure nothing could turn on him. That he can play his little manipulation games and always come out on the winning side. He was so upset that my experiments where all on corpses."
His teeth grind together at the lie. "Not all of them were corpses."
She cackles at that. "They were when I was done with them." Leshly relaxes, sit more on the desk like there's no need to be on guard at all. Her nails click against the artificial wood of the desk. "Better for everyone that way. They don't scream as much as corpses anyway."
Jacob grinds his teeth together, breathes in and holds it for a moment before he releases it in a rush. "And selling out the Colony you were staying in? That a part of his plan too? Or was that just you being a petty bitch?"
She stares at him, dark eyes boring into him as her smile slips from her face. 'We're not going to win this war." It's said with certainty. "It won't even be a war. It'll be us all wiped out and enslaved. Gone within months, maybe years if we're lucky. Not unless we're willing to make sacrifices."
Leshly pushes off from the desk, strides up to him and stands face to face. She's taller than he expected, practically towering over him by a head. Intimidating.
He wonders if this is what most of her victims saw before they died.
"What's a corpse to a living human being?" her voice is a whisper. "What's one human being to ten? What's a small colony to the whole fucking galaxy? I did what was necessary. An exchange. An in to how the Collector's are made, how the Reapers have shaped them over time."
Her hand is on his chest pushing him back with an almost unnatural strength up hard against the door. He could open it, make her stumble, get out from under her and put a shot right into her head. He doesn't though. Not yet.
Nails dig into his chest. Sharp and painfully, clearly manicured to be like claws. "And ultimately when all this is said and done?" Her voice is on the edge of hysterical. "Once I've finished taking all the information I have apart? What I'll have is the way for us to survive indoctrination."
Jacob bites his cheek hard enough that he can taste the blood in his mouth. "And whose to say your not indoctrinated yourself?"
Leshly tilts her head, laughs again, and steps back. "You, I like you. You ask the right questions. The Illusive man wouldn't even begin to dare ask those kind of questions. If you're still around when he does eventually start playing with all the things I warned him not to touch, you should ask him the exact same thing." She turns her back to him, moving back to the desk and her drink. " The truth is I don't know if I am or not. Probably. It would be fitting wouldn't it?"
He doesn't know what to say, doesn't know if he should feel angry, upset, or just empty. This whole situation makes him feel like he's on uneven ground. Make's him question everything he's done up to this point.
"You knew about the Collectors." That's a sticking point in his brain. That she had to have already known if she went searching for those kinds of answers. "You knew they were Protheans."
Which means with absolute certainty that the Illusive Man did too.
"It's always funny how much information he likes to leave out isn't it?" She rounds the desk, sits in the chair and kicks her feet up onto it. Heel clicking together far too loud in the small enclosed room.
It's only now that he realizes hat no sounds from the party are even making it into here.
"So Mr. Taylor, I think the question now is, what are you going to do to me? I'm not very interested in fighting back so it'd be easy to just shoot me dead right here and now. Of course, that would mean loosing all of my research, kneecapping the war effort."
"Because you destroyed all of it when the lab went up in flames." Not all of it though. Not the stuff Shepard was able to save. Is it enough, though? Is it even worth it or would it all be tainted?
She raises her glass to him, before taking another long sip.
"I never told you my name."
"You didn't." She agrees.
There's a pistol in his coat. He could pull it, end all this right here. She'd deserve it too. After everything she's done. He glares at her, thinks of Adam and how his body had to have been taken apart.
And put back together.
"Well, Mr. Taylor? We don't have all night."
His hand slips inside of his coat.
…
The ride back to the Normandy is quiet. Thane doesn't ask what happened and Jacob doesn't bother saying. He'd made his choice, and now he'll have to live with it.
"I don't think my friend is dead." He hears himself say, even though he's not fully processing it. "I think Adam helped her."
Thane looks over, the flashing lights of Illum's city life passing over him like a kladiscope. "We can find out, if you want."
And Jacob, Jacob's not sure he really wants to know.
"Would you think less of me if I said no?"
Thane stares a moment before slowly he shakes his head, refocusing on the lanes ahead of them. "Some things are better left a mystery."
"Yeah." He agrees. "Yeah they are."
A hand meets his from where it rests on the arm of his seat. He turns his own and holds on tight.
Take Another Shot (1488 words) by depressed-sock
Gift for: DpsMercy.
Fandom: Star Wars Legends - All Media Types
Rating: Mature
Relationships: Jon Antilles/Myles the Mandalorian
Characters: Myles the Mandalorian (Star Wars), Jon Antilles, Original Characters, Jango Fett
Additional Tags: Bar Fight, One Night Stands, Minor Violence, Flirting, Treat Fic, Myles being very annoyed at his best friend Jango, Minor Character Death
Series: Part 1 of Mandalorian's Bounty Hunter (Undercover Jedi)
...
Myles is really regretting letting Jango talk him into this.
It’ll be fun Myles! What could go wrong Myles? I’m a fucking idiot Myles, let me leave you alone here to get jumped while I sneak off with this other person.
Could be worse he guesses. Jango could be here to make the situation somehow even more worse. He shifts uneasily, blaster in hand and pointed at the small group of bastard’s pointing their own at him. It was supposed to be a calm night out. Some drinks, some betting. Maybe find someone to have some real fun with.
God, he doesn’t remember the last time he got laid.
“I’m not looking for any trouble,” he keeps his voice calm and even. Though admittedly his helmet’s vocoder is doing most of the work for him. Because right now? He’s just completely pissed off.
“Seems you’ve found it anyway,” sleazy bastard number one says. Grin stretched thin over sharp canines.
He should have just stayed in his bunk on the ship. At least it’s a warm bunk. And the only assholes around are one’s that won’t try to put extra holes in him.
“Right, let me make this more clear,” he clicks the safety off, pulling himself up in a way that makes it very fucking clear he’s a pissed off Mandalorian and not some easy mark. “Get the fuck out of my face before I put all three of you in the ground.”
The people who haven’t already scattered for cover in the bar, start to edge their way there. Most of them just regular citizens of the planet, here to drown their sorrows. Not to deal with an angry Mando and what has to be three slavers. Or pirates. Either way still stupid.
The only one who hasn’t moved is a man nursing his drink at the bar nearby. A deep hood hiding his features but clearly geared up in a way that screams bounty hunter.
Bastard number two makes to step closer, snarl curling their lips, but the smarter of the three places a hand on their chest pushing them back. Bastard number three gives him a smile that’s slimy enough that it belongs on the back end of a hut. “Not looking for trouble either. Come on boys, leave the Mando alone. I’m sure we’ll find time to catch up later.”
He’s going to strangle Jango when he finds the kriffer.
Bastard number one gives three a look that says about as much as Myles is going to let it. He doesn’t have time to deal with this now, let alone later when they’re planning to jump him. He puts a shot straight through One’s head. Ducks back as Two swings forward, completely forgetting about their own blaster in lieu of the blunt end of an axe. Which who the fuck carries around a kriffing axe anyway, and chooses that over a blaster?
Three just sighs, reaching into his vest as Two makes another swing that Myles bats away with his bracer before he gives bastard number two a Keldabe kiss so hard that it would have left their head ringing for days. If he hadn't immediately put another bolt through it.
He raises his arm, finger already on the trigger ready to down the third, when lucky number three pulls two detonators from his vest. Myles curses, backing away. The best plan he can think of is to leap out of the way and hope for the best. His armour should withstand the blast. The question is: would he survive being battered around in it.
The man that sits at the bar takes another sip of his drink. Then he moves. Faster than Myles helmet can track, the man stabs Three right through his throat, quickly catching the detonators as they fall from Three’s suddenly limp grasp.
Turning them off before they can detonate, before sliding them into a pouch on his belt.
Myles stares. The man pulls his vibro-knife free, wipes the blood off on his pants. Returns to his seat as the body hits the floor dead.
He takes another sip of his drink as if he’d barely moved at all.
And like there hadn’t been a fight to the death a moment ago, the cantina comes back to life.
“Couldn’t have just broke his neck, Antilles? Now I’ve got blood on my floor.” The bar owner complains at the man before turning and pointing a finger at Myles. “You’re paying for damages and clean up. Along with that drink I gave you before the dumbfucks tried to start something with you.” She leaves him no room to argue as she moves to the other side of the bar.
Obviously making a holo-call for a body pickup. None of these people even blink an eye at the violence.
Maybe he should stop underestimating places Jango himself likes to frequent.
He sighs, going to pick up his knocked over stool so he can sit back at his spot at the bar. Mourning his lost glass of alcohol and the inevitable bill this is all going to cost. The hooded man’s head tilts his direction. Then without a care of the bar owners anger, rises a bit to reach over the counter to grab an unbroken glass. Pouring some of his own bottle of alcohol in it and sliding it Myles way.
“Sorry about your drink.” The man’s voice is rough, and almost a touch too soft to hear.
Myles takes his helmet off, shaking out his hair of curls and gladly taking the offered drink. “Thanks,” he snorts sarcastically, before downing the glass. He sets it back down with a loud clink. “Not really how I was planning to spend the night.”
“Most people don’t.” From this angle he can see the brief smile the man gives. Scared lips quirking upwards before it’s hidden away again by his glass.
“Honestly, I really should at this point.”
“Bad luck?” the man asks with an amused huff.
“The worst kind,” Myles shakes his head, “my friends bad luck.”
Another amused huff, the man tilts his head like he’s contemplating something before he picks up his glass and bottle. Taking the stool closest to Myles and pouring them both another round. “I’m sure you’ll find some better luck soon.” He’s close enough Myles now has a better view of the man’s face. Pale, heavily scarred, bright silver eyes that almost have an eerie glow to them. A strand of black hair falls out of place before the man pushes it back under his hood.
Younger than what Myles had expected too.
“Here’s hoping.” He downs his glass of alcohol again, much to the other’s amusement.
“Hmmm,” the man hums in agreement, “Maybe sooner than you think.” The amused smile he gives Myles is really all he needs because Myles has to fuck this guy. There is literally no other option here.
At some point during cup three or four he gets dragged upstairs by the man. Proving his luck has absolutely changed for the better.
---
Jango is glaring at him from across the hanger bay like he has any right too, the kriffer.
“What?” Myles demands as he makes his way over, helmet attached to his hip clasp and probably looking way too content for how annoyed he is at Jango. He ignores the looks a few of the other’s give him. They’re all incorrigible gossips, obviously listening in for rumors to spread.
Jango raises an eyebrow at him. “You’re late.”
“And you ditched me.”
“I told you I was going to help Silas barter for supplies.” Jango rolls his eyes. “I thought you’d be headed back to the ship.”
“No, I stayed there so I could finish my drink. Only I got jumped by three stupid bastards who are now very fucking dead. Thanks so much for the help.” Myles huffs, only regretting it a bit when Jango gives him a clearly worried look.
“Who-”
“Dead. Like I said. It’s fine anyway, meet someone, spent the night with them. They also kindly payed my bar tab.” And for the damages and body removal. Which was a bonus surprise despite the disappointment of waking up alone. The bartender had looked at him with zero remorse as she’d said ‘Antilles payed it. He’s got a soft spot for people who can keep up with him.” She’d wiggled her eyebrows at him before belting out a laugh so loud it nearly shook the building.
Jango gives him a long look, like he’s seeing something Myles doesn’t. “Right.” He grins, walking close to throw his arm around Myles shoulder. Dragging him close and leading him up the ramp of the ship. “Spill.”
Myles rolls his eyes, leaning into his friend a bit. May as well tell him, it’s going to be hard enough finding Antilles.
Especially considering it’s the most common kriffing last name in the entire galaxy.
Remember that time? (5069 words) by KnightImperfect
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Darth Maul & Hondo Ohnaka
Characters: Hondo Ohnaka, Darth Maul, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Original Pirate Character(s)
Additional Tags: Amnesia, Humor, Crack Treated Seriously, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Bleeding Kyber Crystals (Star Wars), Accidental Redemption, hondo trying to train a force user, Alcohol, unlikely friendship, Little bit ooc Maul, for obvious reasons
....
Sometimes there’s just deals you don’t take. Whether because the stakes are far too high or because your own sanity is at risk, at some point there’s just not enough credits in the galaxy to make that kind of deal worth it.
And this? This should be one of those kinds of deals. The kind you space before you can really think twice about it. Hondo, however, above all else is one who can see an opportunity here despite all of those other factors. It’s certainly one that far outweighs any kind of con. Except for death, but if it starts heading that way... well, it’s a simple fix.
A familiar horned man sits on the floor of his ship’s cargo hold, hand tight around some mystical crystal or some such thing. It’s the same one that Hondo and his crew had so helpfully liberated from some rather unsavory fellows who could not appreciate the gift he had given them. Namely their lives, but sometimes people just don’t appreciate that kind of kindness.
This man had boarded his ship, stormed through it like he had the right to walk it’s halls! Even killed some of Hondo’s men! Truly it was quite rude, if Hondo does say so himself, especially when he had been so willing to negotiate a fair price! Really he should space the whole cargo hold, kill the crazed bastard outright. Except… except that the man has stopped. Now sitting on the ground as if his strings have been cut.
Darth Maul (because it’s always good to know the name of business rivals) blinks slowly, clearly dazed in some sort of fashion. Hondo studies him for a moment, before he squats down in front of the man. Sharp yellow eyes snap to him, a wary look on Maul’s face as he seems to realize he’s not alone. His fist still so tight on the crystal that Hondo fears it might shatter under the Zabrak’s strength.
“Well my friend, it seems we’ve come to an impasse.”
Maul eyes him warily. “Who are you?” he asks, eyes darting to the side to take in Hondo’s crew and the blasters they hold before those sharp eyes land straight back on Hondo. “Where am I?”
Well, that is something unexpected. Hondo tilts his head in confusion, hand placed over his chest, “You don’t remember your good friend Hondo! Tsk tsk tsk. Come now, that’s not nice at all considering you did board my ship under false pretenses!” Then as a joke he adds, “Did you forget your own name too, my friend?”
Maul is silent for a moment. He swallows once, shifting back away from Hondo before he answers with a hiss of unrestrained frustration, “What’s the use of a name? It’s less important than the fact that you have blaster’s pointed at me.”
Ah. Well. Definitely doesn’t remember his own name. Hondo is not sure what to do with that. Maul still clearly knows the situation he’s in but Hondo suspects not much else. That’s quite strange. He frowns as he looks Maul over. The Zabrak holds himself differently then he did when he’d been running around cutting down Hondo’s crew. More tense, more fear. None of the savage confidence from just moments before.
“Maul, my friend, you seem to have gotten yourself into quite the situation haven’t you?” He eyes Maul’s hand that holds the crystal, a suspicion in the back of his mind. Memories of warnings that Hondo might have ignored when he took the thing. “You did touch something you weren’t supposed to.” He motions to the hand and Maul immediately opens it like he’d been burned.
The crystal drops to the ground, gray and dull, not the bright rainbow of colors that it had been when Hondo had first stolen it. He studies it for a moment, thinks to himself that perhaps it’s lucky that he had, had no temptation to take the thing out of it’s box. Especially if it is the culprit for what his new guest is suffering.
He hums to himself, thinking for just a moment, before an even larger smile comes to his face. “I think my friend, that this is a good opportunity that neither of us should pass up.” He holds out his hand, and Maul glares at it like it might bite him. Hondo shakes it at him encouragingly and finally, hesitantly, Maul grabs it. Allowing Hondo to help him to his feet.
Very trusting this version of Maul is. That will come in handy later, Hondo thinks to himself with a pleased hum.
“An opportunity?” Maul asks but Hondo immediately waves off the question.
Wrapping an arm around the other man’s shoulders, he stiffens under Hondo’s grasp but Hondo’s not a man who’d let something like that bother him. “Something we’ll discuss later. I’m sure right now you’re wondering who you are and why you’re here and a whole slew of other questions! None of them are important! The important part is that you are here among friends!”
His crew throws him looks of disbelief but really it’s their own fault if they can’t see what Hondo is trying to do here. He starts to guide the other man out of the cargo hold, past his crew and their guns. There’s so many things he needs to set into motion now, but it’s important to take his time with this part. He wouldn’t want to spook his new guest, not when they can do such beautiful work together!
After all, it’s not everyday a force user just falls into his lap! No, no, no! This kind of event usually only happens once a month for him! And usually it’s Kenobi but that man is always so against using those special powers of his for a little pirating and murdering. Maul will be much more helpful.
“I believe several of those questions are far more important than that,” Maul says dryly, maneuvering himself out of Hondo’s grasp. He lets the man go, watching carefully as his special guest eyes each of Hondo’s men they pass as they walk down the halls of his ship. “Why am I here?”
“You’re a guest of course! Why before all this happened we were in the middle of negotiations. You promised us quite a bit.” Hondo lies with a smile, tapping his knuckles on Maul’s chest.
Maul swats his hand away and in turn, eyes him critically. He seems to do that a lot. Perhaps Hondo should take him straight to the refreshments, a little liquor to help settle the nerves. Or enough to help forget his problems. Either will help, he’s sure.
“For some reason I doubt that.”
Oh, he doubts but he doesn’t know for certain. Hondo will take that!
“Ah, no need for that! Come, come. Let me get you to your room. It’s already nice and furnished! You’ll enjoy your stay here my dear friend.” He quickly decides to give his, now dead, second’s room to the man. Not like anyone is using it right now, truly what a golden opportunity that the space had been vacated just in time!
“You said I boarded your ship under false pretenses,” Maul’s words bite out through clenched teeth. “This… trust is… I know it’s not natural.” He gives a frustrated sound, like he can almost see the shape of Hondo’s plans but doesn’t have the context to understand.
“Ah, what’s a little betrayal now and again! I’m sure we’ve all done it at least once or twice in our lives. As my dear mother would say, a betrayal today means none tomorrow!”
“That… makes no sense. At all.”
“Well, the second part is that it’s because you shoot them but I figure that we can come to a much better agreement than that.” Hondo chuckles. Yes, this is just the start to a beautiful friendship. One that will hopefully line Hondo’s pockets very well.
…
Maul is… confused to say the least.
He’d woken up in a place he did not recognize, with a man who knew his name even when Maul did not yet recognize it as his own. He does now. It settles into his head like a sinking stone. Unchangeable, undeniable. His name is Maul.
But that’s the only thing he knows with certainty. The rest of his mind feels like hot glass, melting and melding but never giving a clear picture of what he knows he should know. There’s a part of him that’s screaming danger, run, attack whenever he’s near any of the other’s on the ship. The only one who doesn’t set that off is Hondo.
For some reason that’s somehow worse. If only because Maul’s dignity feels like it’s in shreds because of it.
The man is loud, boisterous in a way that’s both obnoxious and… well not much else. He gets up close and personal but backs off just enough when Maul brushes him off. He’s clearly a liar, most likely a thief, and probably a murderer too. Yet he’s the safest person Maul has ever been around. Which doesn’t say much considering he can’t remember much of anything since before three days ago.
A situation that has somehow led him to this moment. Further questioning the other man’s sanity and why the hells he is currently trying to poison Maul.
“That is not...” Maul scrunches his nose in distaste unable to find the right word to describe the drink in front of him. “I am not drinking that,” he settles on.
The purple liquid in front of him bubbles, there is smoke wafting off of it. That is not a drink, that is a hazard made to look pretty while it melts your insides. Hondo laughs, clapping Maul on the back. Maul does not flinch, if only because he’s already grown accustomed to Hondo’s presence within his personal space.
“Come now, it tastes better than it looks. It’s perfect for relaxing!” The man says with a wide grin before he downs his own drink. All in one shot. The whole cup.
Maul can only give him an unimpressed look at that.
Hondo slams the cup back down, with an air of satisfaction, “See? Still alive!”
Maul, heaving a sigh, reluctantly picks up his own glass and takes a sip.
It’s as terrible as it looks.
“Now that we’ve gotten pleasantries put aside. Tell me, do you remember how to move things with your mind?” Hondo leans against the counter while facing Maul, a look of clear interest on his face.
“What.” Maul says flatly. That’s a new one. ‘Moving things with his mind’ really Hondo? “Are you already drunk?” He wouldn’t put it past the man, Maul doesn’t think he’s seen the man drink anything but alcohol.
Hondo gives a sigh, shaking his head in disappointment. “Ah, that’s not quite what I was hoping you would say. Well no matter! When we land planet side I’ll take you out on a tour of the base and you can figure it out there! Without knocking the whole ship out of the sky, yes?” Hondo cackles, acts like he’s wiping away a tear. For some reason, this man thinks what he’s said is the funniest thing in the galaxy.
Truly Hondo Ohnaka grows more and more strange the longer Maul is exposed to him. “I think you should get your head checked first. It appears that drink has melted something important.”
Hondo laughs even harder, slapping Maul on the back again. Maul let’s it shake him enough that he drops and spills the drink so he doesn’t have to drink any more of it then he already has.
“Ah, too bad,” Hondo says mournfully towards the drink, “But no need to worry! There’s plenty more where that came from!”
Maul closes his eyes, breathes in through his nose and out through his mouth. It’s going to be a longer night than he hopped.
...
“And everything is so fucking loud!” Maul complains as Hondo nods his head, not understanding a single bit of this tirade. “You’re the worst one!” Maul’s drink sloshes towards him. “Yes, exactly like that! You just,” he motions to all of Hondo with a grimace of disgust, “are so much! It’s disgusting.”
Hondo chuckles in amusement. “What can I say, my friend, I have a loud kind of personality! Most people appreciate it you know.”
The zabrack makes a face of disgust. “That’s a lie, even if you fully believe it to be true.”
“So cruel! Here I am sharing my drinks-” “Terrible drinks.” “-And you sit here and call me a liar?”
“You are absolutely a liar, almost all the time.”
“Now see here-”
“One of the only times you’re not is when you call me friend.” Maul’s voice breaks on the word.
Hondo blinks at the man, who is clearly falling past pleasantly sloshed to ‘about to pass out’ sloshed. He stares intensely at Hondo like he can’t figure out where Hondo should fit into the memories he doesn’t have any longer. “Hmmm, perhaps it’s time for you to lie down.”
“You didn’t even realize that did you?”
“Sleep! It is time for sleep, my fr- Maul. We have so much to do tomorrow, no use waking up hungover!” He gives a weak laugh. Maul is going to be hungover no matter what. He helps the man up, slings one of his arms over Hondo’s shoulder. Maul leans heavily into him.
The man goes quiet, in a drunken daze kind of way. Not another word spoken, so the silence between them is left heavy enough that even Hondo can feel it.
It gives him such an uneasy feeling but he valiantly ignores it.
…
So, Hondo has realized that there is, perhaps, one problem he did not account for. After all, what use is a man who can use Jedi tricks if he cannot remember how to use those tricks? No use at all if you ask Hondo.
Luckily he has just the solution!
“Now. Move it with your mind!” Hondo claps his hands together, Maul stares at him like he’s the insane one of the two of them. Which maybe he is considering he didn’t just kill Maul when he had the chance.
He urges Maul forward with a nod, an encouraging smile plastered on.
No stress here! Nope none at all. This will work perfectly! And if it doesn’t? Well... Fuck.
“Hondo-”
“Use your hands!” That’s what all the other force users he’s encountered seem to do. He thinks. It’s kind of a fuzzy memory right now considering how hungover he is be, eh, he’s sure he’s remembering right.
“This is pointless-” Maul snarls as he shoves his hand forward and the rock in front of him moves an inch. Maul stares for a moment, then slowly looks back at Hondo as he gives Maul a thumbs up in encouragement.
See! He knows what he’s doing!
He should probably still contact someone more familiar with this stuff though. Both Dooku and Obi-wan owe him one. They’ll have to do.
…
“Turn the lightsaber on!” Hondo says far too cheerfully to Maul’s currently pounding headache.
He stares down at the weapon in his hand. He knows it’s weight, knows the grip. Even if his memory doesn’t, his body does. But there’s something else beneath it all. A feeling that makes bile rise in his throat. Maybe it’s his over exposure to Hondo but the sound the weapon makes feels so much darker than that man.
It’s like it’s weeping.
He doesn’t want to find out what it’ll sound like if he turns it on.
Maul looks up at Hondo who’s giving him that same thumbs up from when he’d first moved the rock. A feat he hasn’t been able to repeat. Maul sighs, flips the switch on, immediately drops the saber which goes back out before it even hits the ground.
His heart is in his throat, his ears ringing with the sounds of screams. He thinks to himself in a moment of complete clarity that he did this to the crystal that sits within. A hand comes up to his mouth and he shakes with memories that don’t fully take hold but are there like nightmares underneath the surface.
Someone is hurting him. Someone is training him. Someone is fighting him.
Someone is-
The sound of a singular loud clap halts all of Maul’s thoughts.
“Break time!” Hondo says with all the force of his false cheer he can muster. “Perhaps it’s too soon for something like that. No shame in that! Everyone’s got their strengths and weak-”
“It was screaming,” Maul whispers. Stares at the hilt that lies in the dust and dirt. Afraid to touch it again.
“...Screaming?” Hondo asks confused as he steps closer, bending down to pick up the hilt not bothering to hand it back to Maul.
“I…” He remembers bleeding it. He inhales, closes his eyes. It shouldn’t matter. He knows it shouldn’t matter. But without the cushion of memories it feels far more like he’s done something terrible than something necessary. “That awful drink from before sounds delectable right now.”
“It certainly does.” Hondo agrees solemnly, the hilt slipped into the pocket of his jacket. For some reason that alone makes Maul relax.
…
Count Dooku surprisingly answers more quickly than Hondo expects. The older man pauses, eyes narrowed.
“So Count-” Hondo starts to say before the call is almost immediately ended. Well, he can’t say he didn’t try, right? He can’t exactly be blamed he wasn’t able to find out how the Sith do things if they hang up on him. Which, truly, so very rude.
No matter! He’s still got one more person he knows he can count on! On to the next!
...
Kenobi stares at Hondo for a moment over the holo before the man pinches the bridge of his nose. “How did you even get this comn code?”
“Unimportant!” It was absolutely not given to him by the Jedi Padawan. Not at all!
“Why are you calling me Hondo?”
“Am I not allowed to catch up with an old friend?”
“I’m hanging up.”
“Wait wait wait wait. Maybe there is one thing, I need a little tiny bit of help with.”
Kenobi raises an eyebrow, waits patiently for Hondo to continue.
“So, hypothetically, how do you train a Jedi? To, you know, move things with their mind and other such things?”
“Hondo, I swear if you have a child there-”
“No! No, child! Just a… very confused adult. He says everything’s too loud, and his lightsaber screams a lot and I’m not sure how to… uh help?” Hondo finishes off weakly. Finds that he does in fact want to help Maul, well it’s either that or he has indigestion. Those things always feel the same.
Kenobi just sighs, long and loud. A muttering of, why is it always me? Then he straightens. “I’d say maybe to try having him meditate. He might not have any natural shielding around his mind or it might be broken. The best way to fix that is centering himself and building the shields back up piece by piece. As for the lightsaber, please tell me you did not give some poor force sensitive man a Sith’s lightsaber that you stole.”
“I did not do that.” Because the lightsaber already belonged to Maul in the first place! Not his fault!
Kenobi just gives him a pained look. “If he meditates with the lightsaber he might be able to cleanse it, but I suggest getting rid of it altogether. An untrained mind can not handle the darkness of a bled kyber crystal.”
Hondo nods his head appropriately. There is absolutely no way Maul would ever let that lightsaber go, so meditating with the thing will have to do! He’s sure it’ll be fine. Really, what’s the worst that can happen? “Perfect! We will try all that and report back.”
“I’d really rather you didn-” Hondo shuts the comn off. He’s got work to do! Actually wait... He calls Kenobi back, who answers with an irritated look.
“What is meditating and how do you do it?”
...
Maul kneels. Mechanical knees digging into the hard dusty ground beneath him as he tries to clear his mind in the way Hondo said to do so. It feels wrong, like he’s reaching for an unfamiliar set of tools but considering he doesn’t have much else to go on he’s got no choice but to try this.
Perhaps, it would feel less impossible to do successfully if said man were not here. Sunbathing on a rock as he waits for Maul to finish. His presence, in what Maul now recognizes as the Force, isn’t blaring. In fact it could be considered something completely ignorable. Except for the fact that it is so recognizable to Maul now that he can’t ignore it.
There’s a part of Maul that hates that. Is irritated enough by it that anger crawls up his spine and settles in the back of his throat like bile. Disgust and the urge to snap everything around him to pieces. This anger, though…. it is, somehow, so much quieter than the complete and utter relief that has embedded itself into him. Like Hondo’s presence is a boon rather than the hazard it should be. It replaces the harsh edges of another blurry memory.
One ff feeling smaller, more scared. Of a man who towered over him promising him power and bringing only pain and later only madness.
Hondo is a liar. There’s no getting around that. He’s greedy and selfish and would kill someone without barely a second thought. But he’s also just Hondo. The man who keeps encouraging him to reach for this part of himself. Who gives him terrible drinks and doesn’t hesitate to throw an arm around his shoulders.
Who could have just killed Maul. Who could have abandoned him when he discovered that Maul was useless to whatever scheme he’s planning. Who went looking for help and information for Maul’s sake, even if there were threads of greed attached. It’s more than he should have done for Maul.
It’s more than his Master ever did for him.
Hondo is a liar. A thief. A murderer.
Maul is too. He knows that with absolute certainty but here and now he doesn’t need to be wholly that. Not when he has the space to separate himself from the memories that defined who he became. To pick apart each and every moment that he remembers. To take and leave behind the things he no longer requires to thrive.
He has the safety to do so. Because Hondo is the first person in a very long time that he’s felt safe enough to just exist around.
…
The memories come back slowly and each time one does he spends time in meditation analyzing them like he’s looking in from an outsider’s perspective. All the pain, all the fear, all the anger. It’s dulled like this. In a way where he can recognize what was done to him, accept that it happened, and let go of the teachings that once drove him to that aching endless madness and rage.
It’s harder to do than he expects. A part of him wants to cling to the teachings, to the old habits, to the anger that kept him going forward. To fall back into that darkness and let it drown him.
He tells no one, not even Hondo, that the memories are returning. That he knows what he once was, and what his path was supposed to lead him towards next.
Maul is tired. Uncertainty always at the forefront of his mind as he wonders if that’s still the path he should follow. It grows daily with each moment that he feels more and more settled in a way he never has before. Like the darkness has been leeched from him and every attempt to grab it back makes it slip through his fingers faster.
There’s light at the end of a dark tunnel he didn’t even know he was in.
He’s not sure whether to turn back around or rush towards it.
...
Maul watches with amusement as Hondo lies to the captain of a ship they’d ‘saved’. An accident, truly, when they’d fired upon the other pirate ship that had tried to steal their own target. Said target who is currently eating up the story Hondo spins with a smile and lies so well spun they may as well be gold. The captain practically can’t give them the extra goods fast enough, with heartfelt thank yous for saving his and his crews lives.
Even the captain’s young child gives Hondo a gift. A hand drawn picture on a piece of flimsi. They look up at him with bright wide eyes, looking at Hondo with awe. Hondo who shifts uncomfortably under the attention of the small child.
No one from the captain’s crew dies through the whole ordeal, Hondo doesn’t even order anyone to steal the rest of the goods. Just leaves the ship with a heavy uncertain feeling that clearly leaves the man unsteady about what happened.
Maul corners him later, gets him drunk enough that he starts waxing poetic before he falls straight into ‘just drunk enough’ which is the only point Maul has currently found that will get him any kind of truth out of the man.
“You know, I blame all of you Jedi types,” Hondo says with a finger wag, “Always, always with the emotions and the puppy dog eyes. Ugh.”
“Not a Jedi,” Maul rolls his eyes. He may no longer be Sith but he sure as kriff is not a Jedi. “I’m also certain Jedi aren’t supposed to act on emotions, so I’m not sure what you’re complaining about.”
“See!” Hondo’s drink sloshes across the table. “You all think you’re so wise and nice. There’s no profit in it! Why do something if it doesn’t get you anything? Truly, terrible.”
Maul snorts, takes a sip of his drink. “Maybe they do it because it makes them feel better about the fact that the Galaxy is utter shit?”
Hondo pauses, drunken mind slowly thinking it over, before he nods his head once, “Fair. But-” he leans on the table, “-still not really worth it.”
“True,” Maul agrees with a shrug. Then without mercy adds, “Though it did make you feel good for a little though, didn’t it?”
Hondo gasps. Hand going to his chest in utter disbelief. “You are a terrible, terrible man, I should have you thrown off the ship!” The mans drink gets waved at Maul who catches the liquid that almost hits him with a simple appliance of the force.
“Then who would you get to move things with their mind? For free I might add.” He directs the liquid back in to the cup.
“Ah, yes. Never mind! You may stay on board.” Hondo nods his head, drink now set aside, “And I may now pass out.” His head thunks onto the table loud enough for Maul to know that it had to hurt.
He almost wants to feel sympathy for the man but truly Hondo doesn’t deserve a single bit of it considering it’s his own hubris that’s gotten him to this point.
...
Maul stares out across the vast land that has been his ‘training’ ground for the last month. The night sky above bright with the twin moons that linger in the sky. The lightsaber in his hand hums softly. No weeping, no screaming. The crystal he bled is in his breast pocket of the jacket he’d stolen off of one of the other members of Hondo’s crew. The crystal in his saber is the one he had attempted to steal. The one that started this whole mess.
It fits with him now. Sings in tune to whatever he’s becoming.
He doesn’t know what he is. Where there should be anger is calm. The need for revenge is just drained away, just the thought of it makes him tired. It just seems so very, very pointless now. Not worth the effort.
At least not when it’s aimed at Kenobi. His old Master on the other hand, well he’s got plans for the man that Maul is sure he won’t see coming.
“I have a feeling, I will not be getting my force user any longer,” Hondo walks up from behind him with a disappointed sigh. “Truly a tragedy. We could have done so much together!”
Maul snorts, turning to face the man who is causally staring him down. There’s an edge of uneasiness to his force signature. “I’m sure you’ll make do,” he says dryly.
Hondo gives him a genuine smile. “I always do.” He tilts his head, “I’m assuming that business partners isn’t on the table?”
Of course that’s his first though. Maul huffs a soft annoyed laugh, “I’ll tell Savage that we’ll be opening negotiations.” He glares Hondo down. “For now.” Because he knows better then to trust Hondo fully.
“Ah, see! I knew we could make a good deal!”
“No, you didn’t.”
“No, I didn’t.” Hondo agrees. “But sometimes the risk is worth the reward. I’ll have to kidnap you again. Take you out to the best places. There’s this drink called flamethrower that will burn you all the way down to your-”
“Thank you, Hondo.” It’s the only time those words are ever going to leave his mouth. They are blessedly enough to shut Hondo up for a good few moments.
“Ah, well… There’s no need-”
“There is.” Maul says with no room for any argument. “I know what you could have done to me and I will not let a debt be open between us. If you have need of me, you can contact me. I’ll help if I can, and this deal is only temporary.”
“So... what you’re saying is I do get a force user out of this.” Hondo slowly begins to grin.
“Temporarily.”
Hondo puts a hand to his chest, wipes a fake tear from his eye. “I am so happy.” Then after a second of thought adds, “Also, you’re paying for that crystal.”
A grin slips across his face, an innocent tilt to his head. “What crystal?”
“Ah, I’m so proud.” Hondo laughs, then more seriously adds, “You’re still paying for it.”
Hostage Situationship (2380 words) by depressed-sock
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: CC-1010 | Fox/Sheev Palpatine | Darth Sidious, CC-1010 | Fox/Walon Vau, (mentioned) Sheev Palpatine/CC-4477 | Thire
Characters: CC-1010 | Fox, Sheev Palpatine | Darth Sidious, Mace Windu, CC-4477 | Thire, Various Character(s), Lord Mirdalan (Star Wars)
Additional Tags: Crack, Humor, Tired CC-1010 | Fox, Hostage Situations, Dubious Consent, Suicidal Thoughts, Fox would rather not be here, Sheev Palpatine Dies, Sheev Palpatine Being An Asshole, Fox is really into older men in this, Clone Trooper Inhibitor Chips (Star Wars), Clone Trooper Reconditioning (Star Wars), Fox gets to stab Palpatine, Age Difference
...
Force but Fox was tired. He barely even remembers the last time he got more than an hour of sleep before having to go on a 42 hour shift. Which is just sad considering he’s pretty sure he’s on hour 50 of this current shift. He’s honestly just ready for everything to end already.
The only real problem here, is that none of these fuckers have the balls to finish him off.
It was supposed to be a calm shift. A short one even.
Then a bomb threat got called in. He dealt with it. (It was a prank call because of fucking course it was.) Then those stupid fucking commando’s showed up. Throwing their weight around like Fox didn’t have anything better to do than to help them with their stupid fucking problems. (The only good thing that came out of that was that Walon was there and Fox was able to get a quickie in before any of the commando’s could catch on. But not before he got called up to the Chancellor’s office. Which, he’s pretty sure, Walon was pissed about.) Then the Jedi and their commanders decided to commit treason.
Which leads to Fox’s current situation.
A red lightsaber shoved in front of his face, buzzing so loud that it’s giving Fox a minor migraine. Because apparently Sheev thinks a ‘mindless and controlled’ soldier makes a good hostage. (Sheev because Fox isn’t going to use any other name for the asshole. He’s been in the fuckers bed for krifs sake, he’s allowed to call the man by his first name.) And like, Fox is tired but even his tired mind doesn’t really see the benefit of this plan at all. Except that Sheev is standing close enough that he could cup a feel before either of their deaths.
Which makes much more sense then thinking anyone else in this room is going to give a shit about whether Fox lives or dies.
Sheev forces them both back a step, towards the secret escape passage in the wall that’s being guarded by Thire, Stone, and Thorn. Their blasters up and pointed at the small army of Jedi and clone commanders. To everyone in the room it probably looks like they’re actively following the orders Sheev gave them. Like the good little soldiers they’re supposed to be.
But Fox knows those assholes are playing that stupid hud-game Thorn had downloaded in all their helmets. Bastards are probably trying to beat Fox’s high score. Which isn’t fair at all because Sheev made him take off his fucking helmet. It’s honestly a miracle he’s been able to keep his face blank when all he really want’s to do is face plant into that stupid kriffing lightsaber.
“You’re not going to escape this Chancellor.” General Windu says, voice flat and purple lightsaber outstretched like he’s expecting a duel. Looking incredibly valiant like a knight in shining armor from those stupid stories Stone keeps trying to get Fox to read.
Maybe he might after this, because damn does General Windu look incredibly hot right now. Actually you know what skip the stories, he’ll just seduce the Jedi. Much better plan. Good work team now let’s not sway dangerously towards that lightsaber in our face.
“Oh, I think I’ll get away just fine.” Sheev chuckles, voice still that grandfatherly tone he uses when he thinks people are stupid and also when Fox asks him to in bed. “Tell me Master Windu, how many are you willing to sacrifice? I can so easily make the Guard raze your temple to the ground. Innocent men made to kill everyone in their way. Or perhaps you’d rather they just end their own lives? Will you sacrifice thousands of men just to stop little old me?”
(Fox does not rolls his eyes despite the urge to do so. His men won’t follow either of those orders. They’ll go into lock-down until a commander can give them the all clear. Sheev probably expects them to follow the order like the ones he used to give during the first few months of this posting. Blackout missions.
He doesn’t know how the man did it but no one ever remembers what happened during those missions. Then, he guesses, Sheev just stopped caring about whether they remembered it or not. Because he’d give an order, tell them what to do and in most cases who to kill, then just never followed up on it.
Fox has committed a lot of treason. So much treason. Yet none of that is as bad as the fact that he willing has sex with Sheev. Mostly in this very office. God he wishes he could talk just so he can see Skywalker’s face if he told him that. It would be so fucking funny.)
General Windu gives Sheev a long dark look, which just up’s him higher on Fox’s to do list. The other Jedi give that same look but it’s just not the same. The clone commander’s with them, shift uneasily like they’re not comfortable with the idea of Fox’s men dying. Which is hilarious really. Last Fox checked no one gave a shit when a Corrie died.
Then again his memory is kind of fucked, so he really has no fucking clue what the GAR thinks of him and his Corries.
Force this is taking forever.
Can someone just kill someone else already? He either wants to be dead by the time this is over or fucking his way through his to do list. Which currently only has two people on it but whatever. He’ll think of more if he has to. There’s also the massive amount of datawork he keeps putting off but the Republic is already crumbling so does it really need to get done? Fox doesn’t think so.
Sheev’s fingers dig into Fox’s unprotected neck, the frustration clear in a way Fox is very familiar with. They’re all still speaking, going back and forth with biting comments and self righteousness. He should be paying attention but he can’t bring himself to care. He just stands here wishing he could be playing that stupid hud-game because that would at least not be as boring as this hostage situation is.
Maybe he should try falling asleep. He thinks he could somehow figure out a way to stay standing up with his eyes open.
“Fox, we’ll get you out of this.” One of his brother’s say. He doesn’t know which one, mostly because everyone is kind of blurring together into a singular blob but also because his memory is shot to hell and back from all the recons.
“You hear that Commander,” Sheev purrs into his ear, “they think they can save you. What do you have to say about that?”
Fox... has no fucking clue what Sheev wants him to say and quite honestly he is way too tired to play mind games to figure it out. Which leaves him with two options. Keep himself as blank as possible and say nothing or say something stupid in hopes that he dies faster.
His mouth decides for him. “Will one of you fuckers please just put a kriffing bolt through my head so I can fucking sleep.” Sleep forever, dead and gone and never having to deal with another senator. Truly what bliss that would be.
Everyone in the room freezes. Staring at him in what he thinks is shock. Did... did they actually think he couldn’t say whatever he wanted??? What the fuck is wrong with these people, he’s not a fucking droid.
“What?” Sheev hisses, fingers now digging painfully in to his neck.
Fox winces. Then carefully turns his head to look Sheev directly in the eyes. “Listen Sheev-”
“Don’t you dare call me that clone! I Am Your Master!”
Fox raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “I have sucked your dick from under that fucking desk.” He points to the big stupid desk that Skywalker’s standing by. “I can call you Daddy if I fucking want to, you absolute dickhead.”
He hears a choked sound from multiple brother’s and Jedi. Which is incredibly funny, but not as funny as the sound of utter disgust Skywalker makes and the rushing clatter of sound as he moves away from said desk. Truly this day just gets better and better.
It would be even better if Walon is still on Coruscant. Maybe he can convince the man to have a threesome with Fox and General Windu. He’d have to make sure they did it somewhere any of the commando’s could walk in at just the right moment to find out Walon’s got a praise kink a mile wide and that Fox knows just the right way to-
“Fox what the fuck!”
Oh right. This is still happening.
“What?” He asks with an irritated huff, glaring in the direction of blobs the voice had come from.
“You’re chip didn’t activate,” Mace comments with an air of ‘what the fuck’. Fox is also having a what the fuck moment.
“When did you discover your chip?” Sheev hisses. “You shouldn’t have even had the time to remove it!”
“What the fuck are all of you talking about?! What chip?!” Fox asks with absoulte fucking confusion. Chip like the food? Chip like a computer thing? Chip like, who the fuck knows, he certainly doesn’t.
They all stare at him again. At this rate he really is just going to go for it and headbutt the lightsaber so he at the very least doesn’t have to deal with this banthashit.
Though, apparently one of his brother’s doesn’t think that particular issue is more important than the other issue. “Why are you fucking a Sith Fox?!”
He rolls his eyes. “If I didn’t do it someone under my command was going to have to. At least I get something out of it! Though, I was hoping he had a praise kink, turns out he’s just really into bondage.” Which isn’t really Fox’s thing but beggars can’t be choosers and neither can clones who aren’t legally sentient.
Another brother groans, “This is the Walon Vau thing all over again.”
“Excuse you! I put effort into seducing that man! Don’t you dare take that away from me!” Fox hisses, pointing towards the yellow blob that’s maybe Cody. Or Bly...Eh whatever he doesn’t care enough to figure out who it is.
“You did what to Vau?!”
Oh? There are commando’s here too? Oh, that’s just fantastic. He keeps his cackles internal as much as he can. Though he doesn’t stop the slow spread of his grin. “Well first I called him a good boy then I put my dick in-”
“ENOUGH!” Sheev bellows in his ear, which is incredibly uncalled for. “CC-4477 open the passage. You’re all going to let us leave or the Commander here will Lose. His. Head.”
Thire shifts behind them. “I think I’m more interested in your and Fox’s relationship.” He says in a tone Fox has never heard from Thire before. One that’s all deadly threat and a promise of violence. “I distinctly remember agreeing to fuck you off and on if you left everyone else alone.”
Well… So Fox has to commit murder now. That’s fine. He can live with another little bit of treason. This one will even be a treat.
“What.” Fox grits through his teethe, grabbing Sheev’s arm that’s holding the lightsaber. “The fuck did you do to Thire.” It’s not even a question, he can guess what Sheev did. Played the both of them and used the both of them whenever he felt like it. Oh, he’s going to stab this fucker. He doesn’t care if he’s the Chancellor or a Sith.
His grip tightens as Sheev tries to pull away, the lightsaber dangerously close to both of them as the man steps back right into the blaster Thire has pointed at his spine. “Don’t worry Chancellor, it’ll only hurt for a moment.”
“Yeah Sheev. I’m sure your used to pain anyway.” It’s a mimicry of words, ones Sheev recognizes if the anger that twists his face is anything to go by. Fox knows they’re not going to get time to do much with him being a force user so he doesn’t hesitate to take the knife hidden his vambrace. Shoving it between the man’s ribs just as Thire let’s off a shot.
The bastard jerks just enough that the shot doesn’t hit his spine but Fox is sure that between having a blaster hole in his body and a knife wound, that Sheev isn’t have a good time. Something made obvious by the way he howls in pain. Before an invisible wave of force knocks Fox back, off his feet and into the glass window that cracks dangerously.
“I see,” Sheev hisses, “I’ll just have to kill all of you then.” The secret passage is now open behind him, Fox’s men are picking themselves up from where they all got blasted into walls and furniture. Thorn has Thire which is really all that’s important right now. If it goes to badly they can both easily slip out through the passage, get the Guard rounded up, and go to ground.
Fox stands slowly, spits blood on that stupid carpet because of course he bit his tongue. The others in the room are talking, yelling, Fox doesn’t hear them through the ringing in his head.
Sheev’s gaze turns to him. Hand ready to thrust out, to push fox through the glass to his inevitable death. A hand that immediately gets bitten and torn off by the huge strill that bounds through the open passage. Sheev barely has time to scream before a shot goes through the glass window behind Fox and straight into Sheev’s skull.
Fox blinks.
Lord Mirdalan walks up to him, sitting on it’s haunches and dropping the hand at his feet.
Fox stares. “Good boy?”
Lord Mirdalan’s tongue happily lolls out of it’s mouth.
Fox has no fucking clue what just happened but he’s now pretty sure Walon is still on Coruscant and that he was possibly a lot more pissed than Fox realized about being interrupted by the Chancellor. Also Fox is pretty sure he might not have a job anymore.
In this Tower I stay, In this Dream you Follow (1773 words) by depressed-sock
Gift for: Siderea.
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Relationships: CC-1010 | Fox/Darth Maul
Characters: Darth Maul, CC-1010 | Fox, Clone Commander Thorn (Star Wars), CC-5052 | Bly
Additional Tags: Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Rapunzel Fusion, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Blood, held captive, Rescue, Dreams, mention of other Guards, Mentioned Sheev Palpatine | Darth Sidious, Memory Loss
...
Fox takes the steps two at a time. Only occasionally looking back over his shoulder, the paranoia growing deeper the higher he climbs. He’d followed the Chancellor here only days before. Investigating. Snooping. Doesn’t really matter because it’s led him to this place, deep under Coruscant’s city. Where the ocean water erodes the structures around it.
He’s not sure what he’s hoping to find here. Proof that he’s not insane? That the old man is responsible for some amount of harm caused to him and his men? Or maybe he’s just trying to find a moment to escape the non-stop process that is being a Guard on this shit-hole planet.
He takes the steps two at a time, unsure whether he’s going deeper or higher. All he knows is that at the end of this is something he needs to see.
The stairway is filled with the sounds of something scrapping against stone, of howling pain and anguish. Of a person. Of an animal. Trapped in this place.
The steps he's taken two at a time end, and he finds himself in a hallway. Drawn deeper and deeper, the sounds growing louder and louder. It’s screeching in his ears, beating a rhythm in his head. He is here. He is here.
At the end of the hallway lies a cell. The body in it mangled and distorted. The eye’s red.
A clawed hand reaches forward. Scrapes against the bars.
Grabs his arm, punctures through the armour and the skin and the bone.
The sound of flesh cracking against metal startles Fox enough that he finds himself falling and inevitably sprawled out on the floor, the datapads that were on his desk scattered around him. He groans rubbing his hands into his eyes like that will somehow help keep him awake for the next however long he needs to be.
“Mother fucker,” Thorn hisses from somewhere to his left. He looks up to find his second in command rubbing his forehead.
“Hit the desk didn’t you?” Fox huffs in amusement making no move to stand back up. The dream is still there in the back of his mind. Trying to put itself on repeat over and over again.
“At least I’m not on the floor.”
“You could be if you fell a bit more to the right instead of forward.”
Thorn huffs, glaring down at him. “...Force I wish I was on the floor too.” He groans putting his head into his hands.
“To bad I’ve claimed it then.”
“Until Stone comes in and kicks you at least.”
Fox hums in agreement. He stares a bit longer up at the ceiling of his office. Thinks about stairways and hallways and cells. Then he sighs a deep heavy thing and gets back up to work.
---
It’s when he finally has time to himself to sleep that he first notices it. He strips his armour off, the upper part of his black quickly following. He only stops because of the marks on right arm. Deep almost black bruises, shaped like a hand, wraps around his forearm. Fox stares at it. Touches it and hisses in pain.
It’s the same spot the creature in his dream had grabbed him.
He swallows roughly.
Then he goes through his quick patch up supplies. Puts a bacta patch on and refuses to acknowledge it’s existence.
---
It doesn’t go away. Doesn’t even fade a little bit over the days he keeps checking it. The pain comes and goes. The others don’t ask about it. Just give it long stares when they catch him out of uniform. He can see the questions they want to ask.
He’s got no answers to give them. Not yet at least.
He follows the only lead he’s got. And maybe it’s a bit insane to be taking the word of a dream but considering what’s been left on his arm… Well he figures it’s got to be some kind of force bullshit his batchers always tell him about. So Fox investigates Palpatine.
There’s not much to find.
The man is suspiciously squeaky clean in a way that makes Fox’s spine crawl. No one is this clean. Not even the senator’s who actually give a kriff about the clones are this clean. Which means he’s got to dig further, dig deeper. There’s something the old man is hiding and Fox will find it.
---
Fox takes the steps two at a time. Following a trail of blood. He’s been here before. So many times but he never really remembers. There’s someone here who is calling his name. Begging and mourning and howling.
He reaches the top of the stairs. He walks down the hallway that splits into multiple paths. A maze that would be impossible to navigate.
He follows the trail of blood.
Right to that familiar cell and the body within it. Red eyes watch him.
Fox kneels in front of the bars, hand reaching out. His knuckles scrape against the rusted metal.
“Not yet, my clever Fox.” The creature whispers to him.
Fox presses his forehead against the metal. Does not break his gaze. “I’ll find you even if I have to kill him myself.”
The man laughs, a harsh barking cackle.
Fox wakes up.
---
He pours through every single document he can get his hands on about old Coruscant surface structures. Anything near the water’s below.
It’s not much and unfortunately not enough for him to use to start his search.
There’s a tug in his chest. For the first time in awhile he notices the hollow feeling that’s been there all along in the background of his life. It aches. Like he knows exactly what is missing but he cannot name it.
“You might have better luck in the Jedi Archives,” Bly says like the nosy bastard he is. Fox looks up with a glare only to be meet with a cheerful grin. “You look like shit.”
“Thanks, it’s because I have to deal with you.”
Bly rolls his eyes, leaning over Fox’s shoulder to stare down at the files Fox has pulled up on his pad. “New smuggling ring your trying to root out?”
“Something like that,” Fox sighs, shutting off the pad and standing up with just enough force to almost put his shoulder into Bly’s nose. Bastard dodges it with practiced ease.
“If you need any help-”
“If I ever need help, expect the whole Guard to be falling apart.”
Bly chuckles like it’s the reaction he’s supposed to have but he can’t hide the worry that’s etched into the way his eyes crinkle. “Fox, really-”
Fox cuts him off again, “Show me the Jedi archives if you’re going to be so kriffing nosy.” That gets a more genuine reaction. Bly slips his arm over Fox’s shoulder, tugging him close and already leading the way out of Fox’s office.
“Trust me, this place is right up your alley.”
…
Bly is, unfortunately, right. The Jedi Archives are a mass of information that would take Fox years to consume if he had the time. He doesn’t have time though. Neither does the person he’s looking for.
He scours every bit he can find about Coruscant's infrastructure and history. Nothing giving him a fully solid lead but it does give him places to start looking. That’s all he really needs in the end.
Because he knows once he’s found the right spot he can find his way.
…
He stands outside of a building that towers over everything and everyone. The vines that crawl down it, twist together like a braid. Like a ladder. He grabs hold. Pulls himself up.
Reaches and grabs. Grabs and reaches.
At the top he is waiting. At the top is the part that is missing from his very soul.
There is blood running down the vines.
He slips.
He falls.
He wakes.
…
Fox glares at the building he’s found himself at. The smell of the ocean rancid enough to make him wish he’d brought his armour and helmet. It’s enough to almost bring back the memories that have been ripped from his head.
He shakes his head, shoves his hands into his pockets as he quickly approaches. There’s no surveillance, no traps. Palpatine doubted anyone would find this place. Doubted he would ever find this place again. But he has.
And this time he is freeing the man that is the other half of his soul.
It’s not hard to climb over the first wall that surrounds the building. The overgrown vines stretch down like an invitation that he gladly takes, easily scaling them to the top before dropping to the ground with a practiced ease that almost feels like muscle memory. He lets his instincts pull him forward. Straight to a doorway that's been blocked off by rubble. He squeezes through the cracks that had been purposefully left for just such a thing.
The stairs are waiting for him not even a few steps away. The blood that runs down the steps have long since dried. It’s a stain now. Incapable of ever being removed. He follows it as he takes the steps up two at a time.
Fox’s heart is beating in his chest. Pounding out a rhythm of anticipation.
He is here. He has found what he’s been looking for.
The stairway opens up to a single hallway that he follows to the very end. To the cell with the rusted bars and the body that lies still on the floor.
“And here you are.” Maul’s voice is cracked and thin. Weak in an unfamiliar way that makes Fox worry.
“Told you I’d find you again.” He takes his blaster from the holster hidden under his jacket, shots the lock off, and goes immediately to his lovers side. “Come on, I’ve got a ride waiting and a ticket off Coruscant for us.”
Maul gives a rough broken laugh, “He’ll find us.”
“I think he’ll have bit of trouble doing that from beyond the grave.”
Maul’s eyes bore into Fox’s. A sharp grin splitting his face. “Oh, my clever Fox.”
Fox returns the grin, adjusting his grip as he pulls Maul up, getting under the other man’s arm to help him stand. “You say that now. But wait until I make you deal with all of my Guard.”
“I’m certain I’ll make do.” Maul leans heavily on him, one of his mechanical legs twisted and broken enough that no weight can be put on it.
“Keep telling yourself that.” Fox keeps his focus forward. There’s nothing here to stop them anymore as he helps Maul take his first steps of freedom he’s had in almost a decade.
“Thorn,” Fox groans, nose pinched between his fingers. Headache day then. That's alright, Thorn can work with that.
“Listen, we're just doing the Chancellor a favor. You know? Making his day a little more… sparkly.”
Fox sighs. It’s a heavy heave kind of sigh that tells Thorn he's not going to have to fight hard to win this one. It takes effort to hold on to the placid blank look he's perfected.
“Don't get caught.”
“Wouldn't dream of it, Sir!” Thorn grins, motioning forward his accomplices. “I'll take pictures!”
The Fox that Bites the Hand (4422 words) by depressed-sock
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Padmé Amidala/CC-1010 | Fox/Granta Omega
Characters: CC-1010 | Fox, Padmé Amidala, Granta Omega, Jango Fett
Additional Tags: Crack, Time Travel, CC-1010 | Fox Kills Sheev Palpatine | Darth Sidious, Sheev Palpatine | Darth Sidious Dies, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Humor, Hijinks & Shenanigans, stealing an army, BAMF CC-1010 | Fox, little bit Eldritch Padme, Fox died and got better, Oneshot, Clone Trooper Inhibitor Chips (Star Wars), That's Not How The Force Works (Star Wars), Timeline What Timeline, Murder, little bit Eldritch Fox
....
Fox wakes up pissed off.
Which (for a good chunk of his life) has been a normal thing that’s happened often enough it shouldn’t really be note worthy. Honestly, it should be more notable that he’s woken up at all considering he’s certain he just died. But no, it’s the sudden flare of anger and indignation that really catches his attention.
He can’t remember the last time his emotions weren’t just a muted background noise that was smothered by the need to follow and obey orders.
That, well, that just pisses him off more if he’s being honest.
“Still alive, Vod?” Asks a voice he’s heard hundreds of time over his entire life. His mind immediately assesses the situation. He laying down, staring up at a familiar ceiling that can only mean he’s back on Kamino. The presence next to him obviously another clone. Most likely a medic. Shivers?
But that can’t be right because Shivers has been dead for years now. One of the first causalities to Vader’s fucking childish temper tantrums. The cannery in the mine of how much more death was to come.
He turns his head and it’s not Shivers sitting here at his bedside but an unfamiliar clone medic. Giving him an unimpressed eyebrow raise that gives him such a sense of deja-vu he’s worried he might have drunk the bad coffee again. He can’t even blame it on the fact that it’s the same look Shivers used to give him every time he woke up in medical.
Used to. He pretends that thought doesn’t hurt as much as it does. Then immediately remembers that he’s gone years forced not to acknowledge his emotions and, reluctantly, lets himself feel that deep seated grief.
“Hey, whoa. Take it easy.” The clone medic gives him a panicked look, before glancing over their shoulder to see if anyone else is around to see. They move only a bit. Completely blocking Fox’s face from view of any camera’s or other personal. Quietly they say, “Take a breath. You’re ok, Priest is getting his ass kicked by Prime right now.”
He sucks in a sharp breath. Dread Priest. How long has it been since he’s heard that name let alone seen the asshole? Last time had to have been when he pissed Priest off so bad the kriffer had punched him unconscious and…. “Fuck.” He says with possibly far too much feeling. It’s not possible. No way in any Sith hells is this possible.
It sure fucking feels possible. He forgot how sore he felt after almost being beaten to death by a fucking bastard with too much time on his hands.
“That’s certainly one way to put it.” The medic snorts. “You’re healed up enough that I’m supposed to release you back to your squad, but take your time. No one will complain if you take a few extra minutes to get your bearings.”
Fox’s eye twitches. Squad. Yeah, no. Fuck that, he is not going to see his squad. He is not ready for that at all considering most of his batchmates and friends are either dead or suffering the same muted infliction that had plagued him. There’s just something about the thought of seeing ghosts that are still alive and ghosts who should be long dead that makes him want to crawl out of his own skin.
Or beat Palpatine to death.
Maybe he should go with that one. It sounds so much better than living in this nightmare he’s apparently being forced to relive. Probably caused by that crazy old Jedi who’d shoved a weird glowing object into his hands before Vader killed him for not capturing said crazy Jedi. Fox was pretty sure Jedi were against revenge but he guesses he’d also want the people who murdered his brothers to suffer their own worst hell. Not like this is going to last long if this is just a vivid hallucination. Vader snapped his neck. He’s dead no matter what happens next.
Maybe he should shoot Vader too while he’s at it.
Fox sits up, face still a bit swollen in pain but he can ignore it. It’s no where near the worst pain he’s suffered. He flexes his hands, takes a breath, takes stock. It might be a dream but he’d rather make sure he’s got all his parts. Once he’s certain everything is in as working order as it’s going to get he slips off the bed and walks out into the hallways. The medic isn’t paying attention. No one is. So he turns and goes in the wrong direction. Away from where his brothers would be waiting for him.
If this isn’t real, then does it really matter what he does next?
A feral kind of grin slips onto his face. Might as well take advantage, right? He’s dead anyway, what’s it matter if he gives himself a little bit of peace before it’s all over?
…
He steal’s Prime’s armour because why the fuck not? He’s not going to try and kill Palpatine in plastiod, he’s not that fucking stupid. Besides it’s almost too easy how he slips into Prime’s room, grabbing the armour and slipping it on as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. The brat isn’t even there to stop him.
No one even tries to stop him when he walks the halls as if he’s Prime himself. Brother’s pass him and do their best to not draw his attention. Even the Kaminoan’s don’t give him a second glance.
Then even easier, he slips into the trainers hanger bay. There’s no guards, no security. Nothing to alert anyone to what’s about to happen. He walks up to Dread Priest’s ship. Grin hidden beneath Prime’s helmet.
It’s really too bad that he won’t be able to see the look on either of their faces when they realize a defective clone has stolen their things.
…
Palpatine doesn’t see him coming. Not until it’s too late and even then he probably only has a bare second of realization before he’s dead over his stupid fucking table.
And while Fox had wanted to get his hands on the old bastard, he figured it would be a bad idea to go hand to hand with a Sith Lord that has a history of controlling his mind. So his next best option came in the form of a sniper rifle found on Priest’s (now Fox’s) ship.
There’s at least one benefit to the years he’s given serving the old fucking bastard. It’s that he knows weaknesses that no one else in the Galaxy would ever know. Get far enough away, do it during one of Palpatine’s many meetings where the old bastard can’t afford to let any of his power slip through, and the bastard didn’t even know he’d died until his brains were splattered on his fellow senators.
The best part? He even exploded. Which Fox did not account for but figures that maybe this crazy dying hallucination/dream just really likes him. Wanted to give him an extra little treat before he marches off into the great wherever the fuck he’s supposed to go. Maybe the crazy old Jedi wasn’t after revenge against him.
This is actually the nicest thing anyone has done for him in a very long time.
…
So... Possibly not his best plan. Mostly because he’d thought all of this would be over by now and he wouldn’t have to deal with any Jedi chasing after him. (Along with the Senate Guard and Coruscant security force but they don’t really count as a viable threat.)
He was wrong because of course he was. That’s ok, that’s fine. A small adjustment to his plans. Getting chased through the streets of Coruscant isn’t even much of a hassle. He knows these streets like the back of his hand. Has run them time and time again. Preforming stunts that would make a Medic weep in frustration.
Of course this time around he’s got Fett’s armour and Jetpack. Those help, but not as much as the grapple line he’d snagged when he first got to Coruscant. There’s really only one thing he missed while under that muted haze. It was the chase, the way he’d had to adapt to Coruscant and the way the city, the planet itself, moves. There’s only one way for a Guard to get around here and it’s by being as absolutely insane as their GAR brothers thought they were.
“Stop!”
Fox grins, that same feral grin he’s had since he woke up, unbridled glee and adrenaline pumping through his system. He knows the Jedi must sense it from him, he hasn’t bothered to keep anything locked down since he’d finally been freed from that particular hell. Fox can see the Jedi tense. See them try to react in time to stop him.
He jumps, he falls. No fear as he plummets through Coruscant’s levels and traffic. Hitting the grapple with muscle memory that shouldn’t exist in this version of his body. It’s there though, guides him through the steps as the line goes taught, swinging him towards a street he can land on. Fox cuts the connection, rolling with the momentum as he hits ground, and rises to continue running. Not a second lost in between each action.
Fox’s heart beats wildly in his chest. The adrenaline a rush that has him cackling. He loses them before anyone can even realize he’s gone.
…
There is a senator on his ship.
Well he thinks she’s a senator, she was one during the war before she’d died. Either way he’s certain that she’s not supposed to be here. Both because he was smarter than Priest and had actually locked the ship down and also because she shouldn’t be here. She shouldn’t be getting into trouble with bounty hunters or assassins this early. He thinks.
Actually you know what this shouldn’t surprise him at all considering how often he had to pull her out of trouble during the war.
Padmé Amidala glares at him, arms crossed. Looking about as pissed off as Fox feels at any given moment since he woke up free to be like that.
“I don’t know what changed Fett but I told you I wanted to deal with him.”
Oh. Well... This is also unexpected.
“Should have done it faster then.” He says with a huff of barely contained laughter. Of course his dream would do this to him. One little crush on a Senator, one little thought of wishing she could see what was really happening around her. She couldn’t have saved them, but he knows she would tried. All of that apparently translates into her wanting to deal with Palaptine in this dream. Hallucination. Whatever the fuck this thing is.
Her eyes narrow. “You are not Jango Fett.” She says with a certainty that she should absolutely not have. As far as Fox knows she never met Fett when she was alive, her only passing knowledge of him should be that he tried to kill her.
He takes the helmet off, watches the shock unfold in her for a moment before she lets out a broken sound. “Fox?”
…
Fox paints Fett’s armour in Guard colors but in different patterns to avoid any future complications or confusion. He does this mostly so that it will be harder to link him to Palpatine’s murder but also because he knows it would have pissed Prime off. Will piss Prime off if he ever finds Fox. The thought alone brings another smile to his face.
Padmé sits quietly, curled up on a seat as she watches him work. She hasn’t said much, since they’d realized… well it’s not really important. She just keeps looking at his throat. He knows there’s bruises there. The color melted into his skin refusing to go away. Easily covered by his blacks but he’s tired of only wearing those.
The first chance he got he used whatever credits he could dig up in his new ship and bought himself the comfiest clothes he could find. Currently he’s in a soft pair of sweats and a tank top, something he never got to wear before between the war and ‘eternal’ servitude. He can honestly say he likes it, even if he feels like someone’s going to stab him at any given moment without his armour.
He’s tired. So tired of hiding what’s been done to him.
Padmé’s taken off the scarf that had been wrapped delicately around her throat. His eyes stray up to the bruises that are most likely an exact match to his.
She’s not hiding what’s been done to her either.
Fox isn’t stupid. He knows by now that this dream isn’t a dream. But acknowledging that means acknowledging all of the horrible things that have been done to him. Acknowledging that means that he doesn’t just get to roll over and die and rest.
It also means that he did die. That she did too. That somehow someway they’re back just before the start of the war.
“So… What next?” Padmé asks quietly.
“Next? Next we go get us a force blank.” Fox remembers mentions of him. How his death inevitably fueled Palpatine’s plans to cloud the force. Whatever the fuck that means. It’s not the important part anyway.
The important part is that the force blank is going to help Fox steal an army. Whether he likes it or not.
…
“...Wait, how do you even know Fett? I’m certain that didn’t happen last time.”
“Oh, I woke up, realized what happened after a few uh… let’s say manic days and then I hired him.”
“You hired him.”
“Yeah, he’ll help the clones however he can.”
“You’re joking.”
“No. I made him live through the deaths of all the Jedi and that seemed to sober up any attempts at genocide. I also showed him, himself dying and then all the clones dying and being controlled and how it felt to have your personality completely wiped away. A few other things too but those were on accident.”
“I- How??”
“I thought about it really hard.”
“… I honestly don’t know if you’re fucking with me or not.”
“As much as I would like to say I am, I’m not. I came back kind of weird? Like I’m too big for my own skin. Weird things have been happening around me, mostly when I think about anything too hard.”
“...By any chance did you think really hard about exploding Palpatine with your mind?”
“Maybe a few times... Why?”
…
It was about as hard as he thought it would be finding the slippery bastard but when he does it’s worth the effort. Granta Omega looks like a man desperate enough to do something stupid. A something he would have done within the next few days that would eventually lead him to his death. Fox can’t even fully remember why he knows this. He is certain it was something Palpatine had told him about. To gloat.
Because apparently having a near catatonic commander who could only follow orders was the best person to gloat to. Force he’s glad that bastard’s dead now.
“You want me to steal the Jedi’s army? The one that they apparently have no idea exists?” Omega asks like it’s a joke. A lazy amused smile on his face. It’s almost too hard to remember the details of his face but Fox does through sheer force of will and the power of getting revenge if Granta Omega decides to back-stab him.
“Yes.”
The smile drops. “Do you think I’m stupid?”
Yes, Fox tries very hard not to say. “I think that you want revenge on the Jedi and that you’ve found every single one of your plans have gone up in flames.” He leans forward, “Ever wonder why that was?”
Omega’s eyes sharpen on him. “You think I was sabotaged.” Oh good, he’s not as stupid as Fox feared.
“I know you were. I can even point you towards whose been doing it.” Well in the only direction that’s left considering the main perpetrator is very dead. “But first I need your help stealing that army.”
“And what plans do you have for an army?” Omega asks, trying so very hard not to seem as baited into Fox’s trap as he is. “Going to take over the Galaxy?” He gives an amused laugh, though there’s something else there. A clear interest in whatever Fox is planning.
Really, it’s too bad Fox isn’t taking over the Galaxy. Might have been fun and he’s sure he could find a use or two for the force blank if he’d had the inclination. But alas, not this time around.
“No, I was thinking of only conquering one planet actually.” One that could support millions of clones. None of them- actually some of them will be happy with him, but the rest won’t. Too bad, so sad. All those bastards get to live to see another day.
“What exactly is it you want me to do?”
Fox grins.
…
“You want me to pretend to be a Jedi?”
“What’s the matter, you don’t think you can do it?”
“I can, but you don’t think anyone will notice?”
“There’s no force sensitives around to notice, and by the time anyone realizes something is wrong no one will even remember your face.”
“You’ve got this all planned out, don’t you. It does make me wonder how long you’ve been thinking about this, and how long you’ve known about me.”
“The easy answer is that since maybe a few weeks ago? The long answer is that I lived through several years before I got murdered and ended up back in time. Between that and the last few weeks I’ve had a long time to think about how I would have stolen this particular army quite a few times.”
“… Oh, so your insane. Good to know.”
“Wait tell you meet Padmé.”
“Someone else who shares your delusions?”
“You’ll see.”
…
Granta Omega looks at Fox like the man is being actively hunted. Paler than he should be, and eyes bloodshot. Apparently a normal side effect to having memories from an alternate reality blasted into your head by a woman who may or may not be human anymore. He’s not really clear on that and neither is she.
Padmé just gives Granta that sweet smile that says she might tear his throat out with her teeth if he doesn’t cooperate.
Granta just stares for a moment before he sighs and says through gritted teeth. “Fine. Who needs revenge anyway?”
“You can still kill Dooku if you want.”
“Oh, I’m going to be stabbing that bastard as soon as I can if it gets me as far away from you two as possible.”
Fox can tell he’s lying. That Granta won’t be going anywhere. Not with the way Fox catches him looking at the both of them later as they move about the ship. Orbiting towards them in a way that’s impossible to pull away from.
…
It’s really not a surprise when later he finds himself with a lap full of Padmé, desperately kissing her while Granta sucks a line of hickey’s down her spine.
...
Granta plays a convincing Jedi, saying all the right things with the practiced ease of a skilled liar. The Kaminoan’s eat it up, especially Nala Se. Even if she’s confused on how and why the Jedi are here so early. He’ll have to watch her and make sure she doesn’t try to contact Dooku earlier than he wants.
Fox walks fully armoured side by side with Omega, with Padmé trailing just behind. Here in these halls he can almost feel what she meant before when she said she felt too big for her own skin. Her presence is all encompassing. Spreading like poison throughout the facilities like she’s searching every corner.
Nala Se stops, and Fox for the first time in so very long comes face to face with Prime. Prime who is glaring him down, because he knows that Fox is wearing his armour even if he doesn’t know whose under it. His gaze snaps to Padmé for a bare second before focusing on Omega.
“I wasn’t aware we were getting guests today,” Prime says through gritted teeth.
“And I wasn’t aware that the Jedi weren’t allowed to see how the product they’ve ordered is progressing,” Omega gives him a sharp smile.
Prime glares, eye twitching. He has to know that Omega isn’t a Jedi just by the fact that Fox and Padmé are here. “I see. Apologies Master Jedi, we would have made sure to have something prepared for your arrival if we’d known you were coming.”
“Surprise inspection, best way to see all those things people think they can keep hidden.” Granta says with a sweetness that tastes like venom.
Fox will have to reward him later for being so good at pissing off Prime. He thinks Granta would enjoy being on his knees begging Fox for it.
…
Omega and Padmé go ahead of him as Prime grips his shoulder, practically tossing him into one of the sound proof training rooms. Fox lets him. Prime wouldn’t have been able to move him otherwise. He’s lucky Fox didn’t immediately kick his unprotected crotch in retaliation.
“Who the hells are you.” Primes hisses, finger on Fox’s chest plate in accusation.
Fox stares him down from behind the safety of his helmet. Thinks for a moment it would be so easy to kill this man. But Padmé would be upset if he did that.
So instead he steps back, slowly he slides off his helmet, giving Prime a look that makes the other man take his own step back. There’s fear in the assholes eyes for just a moment before it gets shunted away. Hidden beneath blankness.
“A clone,” he says, voice flat.
Fox snorts, “Really? I hadn’t noticed. Guess I should have looked in the mirror more often.”
“Fox.” His name of Prime’s lips stops him cold. Prime hums in victory. “Your brothers think you got decommissioned.”
“Good. Keep it that way.” They never have to know. He never has to see them again if they don’t know.
“You woke up like her, didn’t you.” It’s a statement, not a question. He’s not sure if it’s pity or sympathy in the way Prime looks at him but he doesn’t want either. It’s far too late for any of that and Fox has never needed it before. He doesn’t need it now.
The words though, they ring in his head. Fox swallows, looks away.
Everything has been so fucking easy. So much easier than it should be. Maybe because he thought it was a dream, maybe because that mindset altered reality around him. He still has that feeling deep inside him, the one that makes him want to tear apart his skin so he can break free from his body that feels far to small.
Just like her. No matter how hard he tries to ignore it along with everything else he’s ignoring.
Prime lets out a breath, before he turns on his heel, “They’re going to figure it out eventually Fox. You better decide quick if you want them to hear it from you or if you want them finding it out on their own. Don’t make my mistakes.”
“Don’t use my fucking name.” Fox hisses at him. He hasn’t earned it, doesn’t in any way deserve to say Fox’s name.
Prime pauses, gives a look over his shoulder, “1010.” He says with a nod before he slips out the door.
Fox breathes through the anger. Then decides he rather punch something. The wall dents, his hand doesn’t even ache. It doesn’t make him feel any better.
…
Granta’s nose scrunches in disgust as he goes through the documents the Kaminoan’s gave him and the ones he’d stolen when everyone had stopped paying attention to him. “Are you sure you don’t want to just slit all their throats?”
“We’re not committing genocide.” Padmé says with a glare while Fox huffs in an almost laugh.
“Nala Se is free game.” Fox adds, Padmé tilts her head in thought. Like she’s seeing something they aren’t before she nods her head.
“Nala Se definitely needs to die.”
Fox doesn’t bother to hide his grin before he sobers a bit. “We should also get them to stop the accelerated aging.”
Granta hums in thought, “What about these chips?” He taps a finger to the pad he’s using. Fox’s full attention turns to him.
“What chips?”
…
Of course that was the problem. Not some Sith ritual, not something done by an outside force. They put a chip in his and his brother’s heads and with a simple order stripped them of being people. He breaks a training room. Then he breaks another.
He breaths slowly, carefully.
Padmé stares at him from the doorway. Worry etched into her face but she still tries for a weak smile and a joke. “I can think about it really hard.”
He barks out a laugh and finds it hard to stop, even when the tears start.
...
How do you remove millions of cloned men from Kamino?
Very slowly apparently. They don’t have anywhere near enough cruisers, but Granta was able to secure a good handful large enough to hold hundreds of men at a time. They’ll get more eventually to speed up the process. For not though, it’ll take possibly thousands of trips to get them all away from Kamino.
It’ll be worth it. It has to be worth it. No matter how confused all of them will be when they realize that there is no war to fight. No Jedi to serve. No Republic to be loyal too. He’ll have to let them make their own choices. That’s what all of this is about but first he can give them someplace safe to be home.
He watches the first ship leave the atmosphere. Granta on his left and Padmé on his right. There’s blue blood on Granta’s sleeves, though no one but Fox and Padmé have noticed. Nala Se and the team of scientists she worked with personally are nowhere to be found.
Fox sets a hand on the back of Granta’s neck, squeezing it hard enough to make the other man’s eyes flutter shut. A cut of groan of pleasure. Padmé presses closer to Fox her hand wrapping around his free one. Tight, refusing to let go.
