summary: your life after order 66 has led you to places and people you'd never thought you'd cross words with instead of blades. unfortunately for you, the one person who you were trained to always kill, keeps you in this pull that you can't control.
content: literally just flirting, they don't kiss (yet) but they definitely want to. no explicit spoilers for maul: shadow lord, implied violence but nothing shown.
author's note: tldr, started maul: shadow lord, now i need him real bad. there's hardly anything written about him, so you already know what had to happen! (dividers by @cursed-carmine)
"again." his voice rings out from the darkness, that barely hidden smugness in his voice you've learned to expect by now. "you are hardly trying, surely, the Jedi knew to train you better than this." he mocked, his eyes boring into your form. you couldn't see him with your eyes, but you never needed to.
ever since you've crossed paths for the first time, crossed blades for the second, his presence always supersedes anything or anyone around him. he didn't need to speak, but you learned that he often did so to get his fill from his opponents. his..fun, if you will. your grip on your sabers loosened, your shoulders slowly falling in line with your occasional breaths. you felt a pull to him, but then again, you always did with anything related to a side you were urged to always be on the other end of. "you refuse to fight." he stated, his voice much louder, much closer than before.
you knelt on one knee, letting your eyes close as you clicked your sabers. the light faded, letting you both sit in darkness for a brief moment. you waited, felt his presence suffocating you before the heat brushed against your face, prompting your eyes to flutter open. he stood inches away from you, the only thing maintaining some separation between you both was his lightsaber, which happened to be centimeters away from your face.
"you amuse me, much more than most." he said, his eyes trailing over you. a chuckle rang out from your lips, your eyes flickering from his lightsaber to him. "i thought we already discussed this, what's the point in fighting you if we're not enemies any longer?" you replied, igniting your lightsaber. he let out a hum, one that should have been barely audible had he not wanted you to hear it. "we may not be enemies.." he spoke, leaning in closer to you. the sabers practically glowed brighter together, waiting for one of you to strike the other. "but we can be more, should you desire it." he finished, tightening his grip on his lightsaber.
you mimicked his movements, eyes narrowing at his own. "funnily enough," you breathed out, a smirk gracing itself over your features. "i don't think you're one to take no for an answer." you paused, watching as his expression contorted into more than a faint amusement. had you not known better, you'd swear by the force that it was amusement laced with desire. he moved impossibly closer, the heat from your lightsabers together rivaling that of which came from your body. he stared at you for a moment, his eyes switching focus from your own and your lips. "you know better than most, that is good." he whispered, taking a step backward. the large gap in distance made your heart race, but not from anticipation, from want. you slowly moved to your feet, taking your stance as he took his.
I decided to stop being lazy, and I actually tried learning how to draw and colour. So, I drew my Star Wars sona with Brander Lawson BECAUSE I LOVE HIM GUYS.
a/n: some Crosshair and Tahlia fluff for you. I was thinking about them, and I got really sad, so I made something cute.
word count: 521
The sun shines through Crosshair’s bedroom windows, early in the morning on Pabu. As he wakes, Crosshair registers the familiar weight of his lover on his chest, her head laying below his chin, and her hand resting over his heart. He buries his nose in her lavender hair, taking in the rare moment of being able to wake up next to his morut. He inhales deeply, enjoying the moment as it passes.
He brings his hand up from her waist in order to twirl strands of her hair around his finger. All the while, he admires her sleeping face, fueled with so much peace. Throughout their lives together, peace was something somewhat foreign to the pair. No matter whether they were battling against Separatists, working with the Empire, taking down Tantiss, or fighting in the Rebellion, peace was a far away idea. A dream. Yet, in this moment– as the two lay tangled together– it seems achievable and real.
His hand moves from twirling her hair in order to brush some of it away from her resting face. As a gesture to see her better. His fingers brush against her skin. The warm tan tone of his fingers contrasts with the cool teal of her skin. He commits the contrast to memory. Just as he does with everything else to do with her. With them.
His eyes are drawn to her pale yellow face tattoos. Ones that symbolized her connection to the batch. To him. Tattoos that he had inked onto her skin. His finger traces gently over the lines. Mapping out where the diamonds and triangles are. As he traces over the diamonds on her forehead, Tahlia stirs awake.
Her nose scrunches at the ticklish feeling of his precise fingers on her forehead. “Cross?” She groggles in her tired morning voice.
“Go back to bed, mesh’la,” Crosshair encourages, his fingers now tracing the triangles under her eyes.
“What time is it?” Tahlia asks, removing her head from his chest. Crosshair hands fall. She props herself up with her arm and leans over him. Her hair follows her movements, and it ends up tickling the side of Crosshair’s face.
“It doesn’t matter,” he dismisses, moving her hair away from him by tucking it behind her ear. She places her hand– that was formally overtop of his heart– on his cheek. She leans down and gently kisses him on the forehead.
“I have to leave,” she whispers, solemnly. Crosshair frowns before reaching for her waist. He flips her over to lay on her back, and he rests on top of her, restraining her from leaving.
“I don’t think so,” he mumbles into her neck.
Tahlia lets out a laugh, “Crosshair, get off of me!”
“Make me,” he curtly challenges. She sighs.
“Fine, five more minutes, and I mean that. A moment later and I will have to forcibly remove you from me,” Tahlia threatens with a smile on her face, also enjoying the moment between them.
“Deal,” Crosshair grunts. He closes his eyes, set on laying comfortably with her. Anything to keep her in bed and safe for a few more moments.
(a/n: I have no idea if this lore is canon accurate I just remember reading it on wookiepedia I think)
- Pantoran tattoos often symbolize familial relations
- Pantoran get their tattoos as children, their tattoos being a mix of their parents’ tattoos
- Tahlia was taken by the Jedi before she was able to get her family’s tattoos
- Just before O66 Tahlia decides to get tattoos to represent The Bad Batch and others close to her (her new family)
- Each diamond represents each member of the batch
- Each triangle represents an important figure from her childhood (Ka’ra and Vix being the ones below her eyes and Plo Koon being the one on her chin)
- The lines on her forehead are the same formation as the ones on her helmet (which she modelled after Wolffe’s design, so in a way they represent Wolffe)
- Crosshair was most likely the one to actually tattoo her because I LOVE the hc that he did Hunter’s tattoo :P
The Bad Batch completed their latest mission. They have not been requested anywhere else, so it is safe to claim that they can go back to Kamino, where they are stationed. They all enter the ship. “It’s pretty late, but if we are wanting to fly to Kamino tonight, I can get us there,” Tahlia announces to the squad of clones as they, exhaustedly, pile into the ship.
“Yeah, that sounds good. That means we can do some drills tomorrow,” Hunter’s last statement is met by a chorus of groans. “Yeah, yeah, I know. You should all get some sleep during light speed in order to prepare for tomorrow,”
“I’ll keep watch,” the pilot claims, as she takes her seat in the pilot’s seat. She begins hitting controls and punching in the, well familiar, coordinates to Kamino. The sergeant nods in approval at her claim. The other squad members bid her goodnight before they begin to migrate towards the bunk room in a tired struggle to get their well deserved rest.
The pantoran connects her datapad to the speakers inside the cockpit in order to shuffle some music to keep her entertained for the long trip home. To her surprise, footprints sound beside her and Crosshair sits to her right, in the co-pilot seat. “Not tired?” she questions, not looking at him as she is preoccupied by getting the ship ready for take off.
The sniper shakes his head in confirmation of her statement, to which she sees out of the corner of her eyes. “Thanks for the save today, by the way. I guess you really are my knight in… not so shiny.. plastoid armour,” Tahlia’s joke is met with silence, and she slumps back in her seat. “Yeah, that sounded better in my head,” she cringes and is met by a grunt from Crosshair. The ship takes off and, soon, it enters hyperspace. Tahlia picks up her datapad in order to figure out what music to play. “Any music suggestions?” She inquires.
“We need to talk,” the sniper speaks up. Tahlia suppresses a groan, knowing full well where this conversation was going.
“That’s not a very good suggestion,” she huffs.
“I need you to listen.”
“Look I’m all for you opening up to me or what not, but this isn’t a good idea,” she insists.
“What? Scared of the truth?” He lightly teases but masks it with frustration.
“A bit, yeah,” she admits.
“Kriffin’ coward,” he grumbles. Tahlia, unsure how to answer, proceeds to roll her eyes and decides on a playlist to shuffle to fill the silence. “In addition to the other day, Tech told me you liked me,” he spits out.
“He’s misheard,” she denies.
“So, you just like to toy with me? Is that it?” Crosshair grits his teeth. Tahlia sighs.
“Maker, no! I just… I don’t intend to. I’m sorry if I was expressing the wrong idea, and the other day… we were drunk, shit happens,” she continues her pursuit of denial.
“Then what’s with you? It’s clear we both like each other, no matter how much you deny it. Everyone here can kriffing see it,”
“We can’t have feelings for each other. That’s not how this works,” she gestures between the two of them with her finger. “That’s not how our lives work!” she crosses her arms, beginning to fidget with the material of her shirt in the crease of her arm. Crosshair scoffs at her reply.
“I think you’re scared of the idea of being with somebody. Having to be vulnerable,”
“I have a lot of issues! I know that! But putting them aside we can never be together. You could get decommissioned! I could get put into a different squadron! We don’t get the luxury of feelings! Wake up! That’s war,” the pantoran exclaims, throwing her hands in the air. Crosshair scoffs, his eyes narrow as he glares at the mechanic.
"This is banthashit. I don't care if I get decommissioned or you get reassigned. Because, to me, you're worth the risk."
Tahlia’s jaw drops momentarily, struggling to come up with a reply. She’s never heard the sniper admit something containing so much vulnerability. His last few words replay in her mind ‘you’re worth the risk’.
Silence fills the room before the mechanic mutters, “you’re right.”
The sniper looks at her, and the mechanics eyes fall to the controls that litter the panel in front of her. “I am scared. My entire life I’ve been told that attachments are something that I’m not allowed to have. Especially romantic ones. It doesn’t matter whether I’m with the Jedi or not. All of their teachings stick in my head. It’s not a switch that I can just.. turn off,” Tahlia matches his vulnerability, admitting to her fears.
“The attachment is already there. No label is going to change that,” the pantoran opens her mouth to speak but quickly closes it, realizing he’s right. Her eyes remain trained on the control panel. “If we weren’t in a war right now, what would you want?”
Tahlia sighs, exasperated. “I’d want to be with you…” she mumbles, barely audible, yet Crosshair picks up on it. “But, that’s different. There is so much less at risk. I… just… I don’t know. I’m sorry. I wish I had my shit all figured out, I do. I just need time.” Crosshair nods and then stands up, abruptly, from the co-pilots chair.
“Good night, Tahl,” he mumbles before retreating back to the bunks, leaving Tahlia alone to her thoughts. She huffs, regret fuelling her. She runs a hand through her hair before rubbing her eyes with her hands.
a/n: the poll was tied, so I decided to release the ones I had completed while we wait for the Jedi order fic. It will come out soon guys I swear.. I SWEAR.
word count: 959 approx.
tw: drinking
(art done by my beloved @sam-ika or techsdatapadd on instagram)
Drunken Shenanigans + Confessions
Part 1: Drunken Shenanigans
The batch are all cooped up in a corner of a bar in a booth as Tahlia dances with a stranger who had approached the group a little while ago and bought the pantoran a few drinks- to which she agreed to out of boredom- before engaging in a lengthy conversation and then inviting her to dance.
The rest of the squad nurse their drinks while talking amongst each other, yet Crosshair isolates himself from the conversation, not partaking. His eyes remain stiffly concentrated on Tahlia.
The man touches Tahlia’s arm as they dance, and the sniper has to physically restrain himself from rolling his eyes, while he watches the exertion before him. It wasn’t until the man began pulling Tahlia a little closer to him that Crosshair finally allows his annoyance to boil over.
He stands up and begins making his way to the dance floor. As he approaches the two he clears his throat.“Excuse me,” he doesn’t bother to disguise his annoyance, allowing it to be fully on display.
“Are you kidding?” The pantoran asks in a state of disbelief and slight anger.
“Not at all,” the sniper’s hand grips her arm and begins pulling her away, back to the booth the rest of the squad is seated at.
Tahlia shoots the guy she was previously dancing with an apologetic look before following Crosshair back to the booth.
Once they finally arrive at the booth, Tahlia snaps, “What the actual kriff is your problem?”
“My problem? I was saving you from making a mistake,”
“A mistake,” Tahlia repeats, scoffing. “We are at a bar. The entire point of being here is to get drunk and make mistakes.”
“Hence you dancing with any sleemo that comes your way?”
“I was having fun! You don’t see me interjecting anytime somebody hits on you”
“That’s different. I’m not letting them touch me.”
“That’s because you always have a stick up your ass!” Tahlia then turns to the rest of the group. “Is he not being unreasonable?”
Hunter, Tech, and Wrecker exchange looks among themselves, clearly uncomfortable. They all know that this argument is escalating quickly. Hunter speaks up first, trying to diffuse the situation, "maybe let's all just calm down...-" Crosshair cuts Hunter off with a sharp glare.
“Whatever, I’m going back to the ship,” Tahlia says before downing the rest of her drink, and slamming the glass down on the table before turning away. She stomps off in the direction of the bar’s exit. As she leaves, hurried footsteps drum behind her. She sighs quickening her pace, but the footsteps behind her quicken too. Suddenly, once they reach outside, her arm is grabbed, again, and she is tugged towards the man behind her. She tries to shake him off, but it’s no use.
“Where do you think you’re going?” The sniper drawls.
“To the ship. I’ve had enough of you tonight.”
Crosshair’s grip on her arm tightens, and his eyes narrow. “You’re not leaving. We need to talk.”
“About how much of a dick you are?” Tahlia bites back.
“Sure, let’s start with that,” the sniper sarcastically retorts, as he drags the mechanic to a tiny alleyway at the side of the bar. “You want to talk about me being a dick? How about we talk about you making poor choices and letting some random guy touch you? I mean seriously, Tahlia, you just met him,”
The pantoran is silenced the sniper’s insistence on the fact that she was the one who was acting awry. She attempts to read into the situation and her eyes widen. Tahlia breaks the silence with a question. “…Are you jealous?”
“Take a guess,” Crosshair returns to his usual drawl. The exchange between the two no longer occurs verbally, and instead they both search each other’s eyes attempting to get a better read into the situation. It’s unclear who moves first but within a second their lips suddenly meet as Tahlia’s arms wrap around his neck.
Crosshair brings a hand up to cup the back of her head and the other hand lands on her waist. The taste of alcohol mingles between the both of them, but neither care.
The kiss drags on before Crosshair breaks it, regaining his senses. “Kriff” he breathes as their noses bump into each other, both of them feeling the racing of the other’s heart. “What are we doing?”
“I don’t know. Probably something we shouldn’t.” Tahlia moves her hand to lay against the back of his neck as she guides his lips to hers again, and he complies.
“Crosshair! Tahlia!” Hunter’s voice sounds as the squad rounds the corner of the bar, heading into the alley. Tahlia and Crosshair quickly seperate from each other as the sound of the sergeant’s voice sounds in their ears.
“Oh we are so kriffed,” Tahlia runs a hand through her hair in a panicked gesture.
“You think?” The sniper grumbles, sarcastically. Trying to compose himself as the batch approaches.
“Looks like we are interrupting something,” Wrecker observes, laughing.
“Shut up,” Crosshair cuts.
“I believe your intoxication has severely impaired your cognitive abilities,” Tech acknowledges.
“What does it look like we were doing?” Crosshair sarcastically questions.
“The probability of regret in the morning is substantial,” Tech states as he passes an amused look at them both.
“Thank you, Tech,” Tahlia dryly speaks.
“Just.. let’s get back to the ship before you two stupidly do anything else,” the sergeant orders.
Crosshair and Tahlia both nod reluctantly, though Crosshair's expression was one of annoyance. They follow the batch out of the alleyway and back towards the ship, an awkward silence hanging over the group like a thick fog.
a/n: Some good ol’ Tech x my friend’s oc, Zyras. I’m literally obsessed with her and this pairing. This is also featuring Tahlia because I’m also obsessed with her. Enjoy ! 😋
Word count: 735
Crushing on the Shop Clerk
It’s been 15 incredibly long rotations since the Bad Batch has been stationed anywhere. Mission after mission… it’s been continuous. On the most recent mission, the Marauder sustained an overbearing amount of damage. Most of which Tahlia did not have the supplies to fix. The group decided it best to make a quick pit stop on Coruscant so that Tahlia could get some supplies in order to make the repairs.
“Hey, Zee!” Tahlia greets as she walks into the long familiar mechanical shop belonging to her best friend.
“Oh! Tahlia!” Zyras perks up from her work bench, acknowledging the pantoran. She smiles. “You brought company,” she comments as she peers over at the group of clones following behind Tahlia.
“So I did. I hope you don’t mind. It’s been slow?” The pilot looks around the shop, observing the lack of people.
“You know how it is,” Zyras shrugs, unaffected by her lack of business as it gives her time to work on some unfinished projects. “Any reason for the visit?”
“You mean I can’t just come check in on my dear friend?” Tahlia inquires as she picks up a scrap piece of metal, investigating it. A teasing smile crossing her lips. The other squad members find themselves looking around the shop, except for Tech. His eyes being trained on the blacksmith and her interaction with his mechanic. Zyras shoots Tahlia a pointed look. “Okay fine.. we may have run into a little bit of trouble”
“A little bit would be understating it. We could barely leave the ground,” Tech interjects, correcting Tahlia’s statement.
“It wasn’t that bad!” The pilot defends, placing down the scrap piece of metal back to where it was found. The clones surrounding her shoot her questioning looks. Tahlia sighs before explaining to Zyras what has happened. Throughout the pantoran’s dreadfully long story full of twisted truths and excuses to make herself seem less at fault, Zyras finds her attention to be drifting to the Bad Batch’s technological specialist; whom has found himself glancing at the unfinished projects that litter the store clerk’s work station. “Hello? I’m not trying to entertain myself here,” Tahlia interrupts Zyras’ thoughts. The mechanic’s eyes search for wherever Zyras’ attention disappeared to. Her eyes widen. Zyras turns her head back towards Tahlia.
“Hm? Sorry,” she apologizes, almost bashfully.
“It’s fine… do you.. have something you want to tell me?” Tahlia narrows her eyes as she inquires as to why Zyras’ attention was suddenly now on Tech instead of her. Tahlia traces the stone detailing of the counter as she questions her friend.
“I… I don’t know what you mean,” Zyras insists as she brings a hand up to rub the back of her neck.
“Right…” a seemingly long, empty silence follows. Suddenly Tahlia drums her fingers on the counter, summoning Zyras’ attention once again before it drifts too far. “Well I should only need a few supplies. Then I’ll get out of your hair,” the mechanic begins to walk around as she peers around at the various tools, supplies, and scraps that litter the shop. As she looks around she notices that Tech and Zyras have engaged in conversation. She grins.
After a bit of browsing and collecting of her needed supplies, she piles them onto the counter. Zyras notices, and walks over towards the counter in order to ring the pilot through. “Oh, hey, these repairs might take a while to complete. We might be on Coruscant for a bit. The boys and I were wondering about going out tonight. We were wondering if you were wanting to join us? When I say we, I mainly mean Tech and I,” Tahlia throws in with a smirk as the accused clone shoots a glare towards her to which she brushes off with a knowing glance as she turns around to face him, her arms crossed.
“Oh.. um yeah sounds fun!” Zyras agrees with a smile. Her thoughts linger on the fact that Tech has been inquiring on her joining the group in their fun.
“Perfect! I’ll comm you the details when we have them figured! You’ve been a doll as always. Thank you!” The pantoran exclaims as she waves at the blacksmith, joining with the other members of her squad at the exit of the shop. As they turn to leave Tahlia nudges Tech with her elbow. “Wipe the drool from your mouth, you’ll give yourself away”
a/n: Hey lovelies! This is my first fic on here I hope you enjoy! I will probably write more with Tahlia in the future. This is featuring my bsf’s oc Zyras as well :P
Return to Pabu
Summary: Tahlia Ordes returns to Pabu after helping out with the Clone Rebellion. She is then forced to face her former lover, and the past mistakes they’ve both made.
The ship lands. Tahlia shuts down the ship and exits it with Echo. “Tahlia! Echo!” Omega reaches the two and wraps an arm around each person's waist, bringing them close together. Echo lets out a chuckle as Tahlia greets the girl.
“Hey, Omega!” The pantoran smiles at the younger clone and awkwardly pats her on the head. Hunter, Wrecker, and Crosshair arrive behind Omega. Wrecker throws an arm around Tahlia’s shoulder, throwing her off balance. She braces herself by putting her hand on his chest, and she pushes herself upright. Tahlia casts a glance towards Hunter, and she offers him a smile to which he returns. She then looks at Crosshair. He nods to her. She nods back before returning her focus back onto Omega. “Rex said there was nothing for us to do over a rotation, so we figured we’d come visit. Is that okay?”
“It’s more than okay!” Omega beams.
“Where is Zyras?” Tahlia inquires.
“She’s probably at her house,” Hunter answers.
“She bought a house?”
“Shep gave us all a place to reside. As a thank you for what we bring to the community… I think.”
“Whatever the reason is, I’m not complaining!” Wrecker cuts in.
“This place is really like a home to you guys now, huh?” Tahlia crosses her arms.
“It’s grown on us,” Hunter affirms. “They are throwing a celebration tonight. Everyone will be there. You should come,”
Tahlia snorts, “Not really my scene. I’ll see what Zyras is up to though.” She could see- out of the corner of her eyes- Crosshair studying her. She attempts to focus on not looking at him directly, and instead keeping her eyes on the others. “Where is Zyras’ house?”
“I can take you there!” Wrecker offers. Tahlia smiles and nods in thanks.
“Thank you, Wrecker.”
“Anything for our favourite mechanic.” Wrecker declares as he gestures for Tahlia to follow him.
They journey throughout the island, and finally approach Zyras’ house. “Thank you again for your help Wrecker.” He smiles and pats her on the back before departing.
Tahlia knocks on her best friend’s door.
“Come in!” Zyras shouts as she scurries over to the door. Tahlia uses the force to open the door, and she steps inside. Zyras’ eyes widen as she is met with the pantoran. “Tally! Oh my stars!” She throws her arms around Tahlia, to which Tahlia returns stiffly.
“Hey, Zee. How are things? The boys haven’t been giving you a hard time?” Tahlia inquires.
“Things have been good, actually.”
“You’re holding up okay?”
“I’m holding up better,” Zyras corrects. Tahlia nods. “Why are you here? Don’t you have endless missions… trying to make the galaxy a better place and what not?”
Tahlia snorts, “we were given a break. Rex had nothing for us… so, I heard there was a sort of party tonight. Are you attending?”
“I was thinking about it. I’ve been mainly staying cooped up as of late. Might be nice to get out of the house. You should come and get to know the people here. They are nice. It’s a nice place.”
“Are you going to stay?”
“I was thinking of going back to Coruscant and reopen the shop. There isn’t much for me here anymore…” Zyras trails off. Tahlia frowns, and places a hand on her best friend's bicep. She gives it a gentle squeeze.
“Even though he’s… gone, the batch still enjoys having you around. They see you as family, you know.”
“Yeah, it's just… being here… it’s not the same anymore. It hurts,” Zyras explains.
The pantoran gives her a sympathetic smile, “just… don’t lose touch, okay?”
“I won’t,” The human offers Tahlia a sad smile, but a promise nonetheless.
“Now come on, catch me up on everything. We’ll walk to a vendor to buy some fruit. I’ve been dying for food that’s not rations.”
Zyras laughs, “alright let’s go.”
-
Zyras walks over to a drink booth, Tahlia walking beside her. Zyras orders them both a drink, yet she notices Tahlia’s eyes trail to the former sniper who is standing a few feet away from them– by his lonesome. Their drinks get put onto the counter and Zyras picks them both up and offers one to Tahlia. Tahlia looks at her skeptically, eyes glancing from her to the drink in her hands. “Relax, it’s juice,” Zyras reassures the pantoran. Tahlia nods before grabbing the juice. The two step off to the side. They look around all the while sipping on their drinks. Tahlia’s eyes drift over to Crosshair once more which doesn’t go unnoticed by Zyras. “Go talk to him,” she encourages.
“I don’t think that’s a great idea,” the pantoran protests, bringing her eyes back to Zyras then down to the ground.
“Come on, Tally. You two haven’t spoken since they got Omega back from Tantiss,”
“Maybe it’s for the best.”
“Tahlia, you never know the next time you’ll see him. How I felt when Tech… I just- I want you to at least talk to him. It’ll bring you both some peace.” Zyras’ eyes fill with deep sorrow and a hint of determination.
“I don’t think he wants to talk to me, Zee,” Tahlia brings her empty hand up to rub over her bicep.
“You don’t know that until you go and talk to him,” Zyras explains. Tahlia sends her a glare of unwillingness. Zyras crosses her arms, squaring up to the pantoran.
“What would I even say?” Tahlia tries to reason, coming up with excuses to further avoid her complicated past with the former sniper.
“You can start with ‘hi, how are you?’” Zyras offers in a slightly sarcastic manner.
Tahlia’s glare returns, “Zyras, I’m serious!”
“It’s just Crosshair. You’re overthinking this.” The former shop clerk puts a hand on Tahlia’s shoulder.
The pantoran groans. Her eyes drift over to Crosshair who is currently standing off to the side, nursing a drink of his own. His eyes are trained to Omega who is currently running around and conversing with Lyana. “Okay… fine, but if it starts looking like it’s going poorly, get me out of there.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Zyras nods, and she takes her hand off of Tahlia’s shoulder.
Tahlia takes a deep breath, attempting to connect with the force in order to have a small ounce of comfort. She begins walking towards the former sniper. As she approaches, Crosshair stiffens and straightens his posture. “Being chipper, aren’t you?” Tahlia stands beside him, leaning on the wall behind them. She takes a sip of her drink. He scoffs in response.
“Did you come over here just to mock me?” Crosshair questions in his usual drawl.
“Pretty much, yeah.” She takes another sip of her drink. Her eyes dart everywhere but at him. Deafening silence falls over the pair. “I didn’t expect you to be at one of these things.”
“I could say the same about you.”
“Zyras wanted me to,” Tahlia gazes towards Zyras who is now engaged in a conversation with Hunter. The pantoran mentally curses out her friend for not keeping an eye on her current conversation.
Crosshair gestures over to Omega as if he is also blaming her for the reason he showed.
“Ah,” Tahlia acknowledges. Her eyes shift towards Crosshair’s right hand. A prosthetic? She elects not to comment on it. Silence takes over again. Tahlia looks at her cup, swirling around the liquid inside. Her fingers drum against the cup. Her eyes follow Crosshair's, which are still trained on Omega and Lyana. “Omega seems to be making herself at home.”
“She enjoys it here,” he points out, humouring her attempt at small talk.
“Do you?” She asks, mainly fueling her own curiosity.
“It’s safe, meets my needs. It’s different.”
“Yeah, I bet. A good different?”
“I’m undecided.” Tahlia hums in acknowledgment. Crosshair begins to tire at the small talk, only really indulging in it because it’s her initiating it. “Why are you really here?“
“To keep you company. We both know how angry you get when you’re bored.” She regrets those words as soon as they come out of her mouth. Crosshair’s slightly widened eyes shoot to her face. Memories of the last time she said that to him floods their minds. The platform on Kamino. The last time she could remember having a figment of happiness. The last time she truly had a bit of her old self within her, and it was – almost regrettably – because of him. “Sorry,” Tahlia apologizes, not knowing what else to say.
“Don’t apologize,” he brushes her comment off, but internally he’s mulling it over.
“I didn’t mean-” Tahlia starts, worried that she has already ruined their interaction.
“I know,” Crosshair interrupts.
“I’m glad you finally get to live this life. Even if you don’t like it… you… deserve it,” Tahlia admits, hoping it eases away from her comment.
“So do you,” he replies — without hesitation.
“You know it’s different for me,” she protests. She feels an obligation to fight the empire. To avenge the fellow force wielders who were downed, and the clones who were taken advantage of. She had to do something.
“It really isn’t,” he insists.
“Cross-“ she starts but is quickly interrupted.
“Stay on Pabu,” Crosshair recommends.
“I can’t,” Tahlia insists, knowing that it just isn’t feasible. “I can’t just drop everything and stay here.”
“You could be happy.”
“You think I could live my life in bliss knowing that I could be out there actually doing something?” Her voice initially spikes, but she quickly fixes her tone.
“I just…” he trails off, hesitant about what to say next. “What if you don’t come back one day?”
“You know me, I’ll always come back,” she offers him a small sympathetic smile. Her heart skips a beat – against her will – as she feels touched by Crosshair’s apparent worry.
“You can’t promise that, Tahlia,” he firmly expresses his apprehensions. She frowns, and he lets her hand brush his for a split second before returning it to her side. He stiffens.
“I’ll be okay,” she affirms. The corner of her mouth twitches up as she notices his eyes drift to his hand, lingering, and then drifting back to her. He begins really looking at her, as if trying to remember something he once nearly forgot.
He missed her. He realizes. His eyes roam over her face, trying to study the emotions that she may be feeling, and the thoughts that she may be thinking. He methodically analyzes his best course of action, as he often does, due to his past job as a sniper.
Crosshair lifts his hand up and, hesitantly, lets it brush against her cheekbone briefly before swiftly removing it. His thumb trails down until it reaches the curve of her jaw. “Mesh’la,” he mumbles before dropping his hand.
Tahlia’s mouth nearly falls open at his sudden boldness. She forces herself to stay composed. “Cross…” she trails off, completely and utterly speechless.
“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum,” he says just loud enough for her to hear. His thumb brushes against her jaw as he utters the words that she only understood due to him saying it to her before, and Tech having to tell her what the phrase meant. I love you.
“You don’t mean that,” she brings her hand up to her jaw, taking ahold of his hand and removing it from her face.
He doesn’t reply immediately. Instead, he simply looks into her bright yellow eyes, attempting to convey his emotions – his truth – to her without having to verbally say anything. His prosthetic hand brushes against her hand in order to affirm his intentions. “I am sorry… for everything. I was so wrapped up in my loyalty to the republic that I disregarded my loyalty to you. I hurt you, and I really am sorry. You didn’t deserve that, especially on top of everything you were already put through. I don’t expect your forgiveness. I just wanted you to know.”
A beat passes and then suddenly Tahlia throws her arms around the clone’s neck and hugs him. She squeezes her eyes shut, attempting to suppress any visible rising emotion. Crosshair tenses before hesitantly wrapping his arms around her and digging his nose into her hair. “That’s all I wanted to hear… I’m sorry too for the record. About not being there for you after you were experimented on, and after you lost your hand,” she admits, words mumbled as she speaks with her head buried in his neck.
“You weren’t in the right headspace,” he dismisses her apology, feeling like he didn’t deserve it.
“That still doesn’t excuse it,” she perseveres, adamant on proving to him that he wasn’t the only one who was in the wrong. She moves her arms from being around his neck to bracing them on his chest, hands on his shoulders. His arms move to her waist. “I don’t want you to constantly have to worry about me whenever I’m gone. You don’t deserve that.”
“What are you saying?” He questions, confused at what’s making her suddenly say this.
“I want you to move on,” she says, curtly.
“What?” He questions, even though he’s not at all shocked by her trying to push him away again.
“There are so many nice people here. I just want you to be open to the possibility that maybe I’m not the one for you. I mean what kind of life would it be if- say we did try again, and I’d be gone all of the time. We’d hardly see each other.”
“I don’t care about any of that. I want you, Tahl. Only you,” he declares.
“But-” she starts.
“You don’t get to decide this for me. I’ve waited too long to be with you again. I’m not going to let you go,” Crosshair adamantly interrupts, determined to get his point across.
Tahlia mulls his words over for a few seconds, scanning his eyes for any bit of hesitation or dishonesty, but she finds none. Instead, she nods. “Okay,” she agrees, and intertwines her fingers with his prosthetic ones.
Zyras’ conversation with Hunter came to an end. She peers at Crosshair and Tahlia, and she finds herself smiling. If her and Tech can’t have their happy ending, she’s glad that at least her friends can.
