Star Wars: Vode An (closed for Apollo Wilde and BewareTheDream)

[BewareTheDream]

Gently pressing his cheek against her palm, and then his forehead against hers, Raeth grinned at Saudaji’s comment about falling in love at first sight. More than that, he grinned at the memory of their meeting. “You and I both know it wasn’t love at first sight. You were completely covered in armor the first time I saw you, and you were posing as a man while I was pretending to be somebody who couldn’t handle his booze. We were both wearing masks.”

Holding her hand, he walked beside her at an unhurried pace. For that moment, they were two lovers strolling through the wilderness, reminiscing, instead of two interplanetary killers discussing what their next move would be.

“I was, however, obsessed with you the moment I saw you without your armor. At the time, I thought that was love. I know differently, now. Love came later.”

There were a lot of things that Saudaji taught or inspired Raeth to do—things that he had never done before. Like now, Raeth was thinkingly fondly of the past while also considering their future. Before her, his mind had been firmly planted in the present, but now, thanks to her, his consideration of time was more all-encompassing.

She stopped right after they stepped over a root big enough for a child to hide behind, and so Raeth, his fingers still interwoven with hers, stopped too. It sounded as though Saudaji was also thinking of the past and the future, simultaneously, and Raeth was there to listen—another thing he didn’t really do before falling for her.

He listened to what she had to say, but he didn’t admit that he didn’t understand what she was going through. Not truly, not deeply. He wished he knew what to say to make her see things his way—that as long as they were together, he was golden. But the gifted engineer and tinkerer knew he couldn’t fix Saudaji’s past like he could fix a warp drive or a scanner.

When she said they’ve got work to do, he understood that to mean they’ve got to move forward. So, they resumed their trek back to the village, where they would tell their family they would leave the island and the planet for an undefined amount of time. They also had to tell them they were married.

Raeth snapped back into his instinct to focus on the here and now. “Is the family going to want to throw a combination marriage and going away party? A feast before we take off sounds nice.”

 

[Apollo Wilde]

“A party? I didn’t think you’d be up for that sort of thing.” A nasal laugh, the first sign of her slipping back into her natural homeworld accent. “But considering that I’ll be leaving with some prior notice this time, I’m sure a party’s going to happen.” A sigh as she shook her head, mockingly contrite. “Hope you’re ready to go off world with the mother of hangovers.”








If Raeth had been expecting a gathering of the villagers for a mere farewell party and then a prompt departure, he’d be disappointed. Saudaji was, frankly, overwhelmed.

Not that either one had to do anything other than just be present. And be willing to travel, because there was no way that the organization of people from Yukaku would be caught dead in the village. Not for longer than they had to be – but they wouldn’t suffer to be outdone by the village. In respect for her ties to her son, Anohi had sent a pleasure craft to pick the two of them up, mere hours after Saudaji had let her home know that she was not leaving, but was married – little time to do little more than let herself and Raeth be swept up in one of Te Kohe’s crushing embraces. Then, they were whisked off into a fantasy land, half remembered from dreams, both childish and erotic, swathed in long fragrant curls of multi-colored smoke. In snippets of memories that were tangible as water drops, Saudaji knew that Anohi had spoken to her and Raeth both, had reassured them that it was merely a temporary farewell. That they would be watched over.

And like in a fairy tale, when they were returned back to the village, it was as if years had passed, when in reality, it was merely a week that they’d been gone. Somehow, both Saudaji and Raeth would, upon their return, seem younger both in movement and in dress; something about the excesses of the flesh in Yukaku seemed to be restorative for the pair. Not that they had much time to luxuriate in that particular afterglow. For as soft as their farewell had been on Yukaku, the farewell in the village was equally rough. Training sessions broken up by being stuffed full of the rough fare of her people, with the crowning jewel of it all being the uj’ cake that Moeranji made. One of those simplistic childhood pleasures, the sweet taste of the cake was the antidote to wake Saudaji up to what lay in front of her – her, leaving her adopted family again, but under such different circumstances – and with someone, something, that she felt was strong as durasteel – stronger.

While the week prior had passed in a haze, caught between the waking world and dreaming, this farewell feast, celebration, whatever it could be called, felt like a month of festivities crammed into two nights, and, true to what she’d suspected, when they boarded Raeth’s ship, she could barely put one foot in front of the other. Both of her eyes were black (games of get’shuk growing more boisterous than usual), and her body was covered in a plethora of bruises. Being stubborn, she’d refused bacta treatments, holding her head up high and refusing to show weakness in public, but now, in the safety of the ship, hung over to high hell and feeling every inch, she limped slowly, painfully, to the co-pilot’s seat, before finally lowering herself into it with a long sigh that wouldn’t have sounded out of place coming from a human well into their 90s.

But deep down, past the patina of ache that came from leaving home, she was excited. She was going somewhere new, going to find answers for Raeth…and best of all, she was with him. Still unable to voice her emotions all that well, she fairly burned with embarrassment as she thought about how…content she was at this moment. Part of the wound from the past had healed; she’d made amends where she could, left in better spirits than arrived, and knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that her and her beloved would always have a place in the boundless stretch of the universe. Though the thought of settling there (or anywhere, really) made her itch in an unpleasant way, she had to admit that having a for sure safe house that was sufficient on its own was a benefit that was rare in this line of work.

With much theatrical wincing, shifting, and dramatic whines, she stretched out her legs to prop them on the dashboard, gingerly crossing them at the ankles. When she tilted her head to grin at Raeth, she did it with all of the gap-toothed charm of a little girl that’d just won her first fight. Even though the expression re-split her lower lip causing it to bleed and tugged at the swollen skin around her eyes.

“Please tell me that you got your tackle of Sheena on vid somewhere.” While Raeth had (wisely) opted out of get’shuk, he’d been on the sidelines as a spectator, cheering with the loudest voice. At one very deliberate foul against Saudaji (the one that’d gotten her right eye blacked and knocked her flat), he hadn’t been content to simply spectate, and chose, at that point, to tackle the referee.


She was fairly certain that the ensuing fight (not to mention the game) would go down in the village’s oral history for generations to come.

 

[BewareTheDream]

“I found a hangover cure online that I haven’t yet had a chance to whip up and test out,” Raeth said in response to Saudaji’s warning that they wouldn’t leave Mandalore without one hell of a celebration. “This sounds like it’ll be the perfect opportunity to do so.”

A couple weeks later, the newlyweds were in the cockpit of the Patient Pylat, preparing for takeoff. The warm, fuzzy memories from their unplanned honeymoon were fresh in his mind, except for certain parts of their Yukaku experience—Raeth wasn’t certain if those were real or hallucinatory.

Raeth was hungover because the supposed cure he found wasn’t as good as advertised. The concoction helped, but there was no way it could have eliminated the aftereffects of many consecutive days of joyous excess. He shared the remedy with Saudaji, but it didn’t help her that much, either.

The hangover was only a minor nuisance compared to the injuries he sustained from the post-game brawl. It felt like his body was a giant bruise. He had only a single head wound—a gash on his forehead that was covered by a square, white, bacta-soaked bandage, the kind one would get from a medical frigate. (Unlike Saudaji, Raeth didn’t hesitate to rely on bacta to hasten his healing.) During the fight, he was careful to defend his head, but he didn’t do such a good job covering up the rest of his body, which is why he now suffered from a cracked rib, and why he was covered in bruises and cuts from his collarbone down. Much of his torso and his legs were wrapped in more bacta-soaked bandages that were concealed by his clothes, but the collection of smaller bandages on his bare arms were visible and looking particularly white against his sun-tanned skin.

Despite the pain, when Saudaji mentioned his tackle, the memory of the fight made him chuckle. The entire honeymoon—from the delirious, sweat-soaked nights he and Saudaji shared in Yukaku to the village brawl—was a collection of happy memories he now stored in his mind vault. His chuckle smoothly transitioned into a groan, for even a little laugh was enough to make him hurt all over again.

“Of course I’ve got it on vid, Daji’ka.” Raeth almost sounded insulted that she had to ask. Pausing the pre-flight procedure, he took out his data pad and emailed Saudaji the video. Then, so she could watch it right away, he loaded the video and handed her the pad. “That’s the whole game, as well as the fight. My tackle is 23 minutes, 11 seconds in.” When Saudaji played the video, she would see that it was recorded from multiple, airborne vantage points, and the points of view periodically switched. Clearly, it was recorded using Raeth’s “spy flies”, and he had already spent some time editing it.

“I also sent you the recordings of what we did in Yukaku. We can watch that together in bed.” Raeth loved watching videos of their lovemaking, but they hadn’t watched them together in weeks, and Saudaji hadn’t yet seen their honeymoon footage.

Raeth watched Saudaji watch the brawl video for a bit, paying close attention to her facial expressions. He loved seeing her pleased, and despite her black eyes and cut lip, she was still the most beautiful lifeform he had ever seen.

As he turned away from her, his attention was caught by a lone, broken switch high up on the console. “Hey, do you remember this?” he asked, pointing at it. It was supposed to be capped by a piece of black plastic, but the cap had snapped off. It was only a cosmetic flaw; the switch could still be flipped just fine. But because of how meticulous Raeth was with the maintenance of his tech—especially the Pylat—it stood out on the otherwise flawless console like a red dress at a funeral.

“It snapped underneath you when we first made love. I haven’t had the heart to repair it.

“Come to think of it, it’s been a while since I fucked you on the console.” He directed a sidelong glance and a new, playful grin her way.

“It’s also been a while since you wore your Lula-Lee outfit for me,” he added as he pressed buttons and flipped switches that still had their plastic caps. Raeth always went crazy for Saudaji, but there was something about her country sexpot persona and outfit that made him go especially nuts. The last time he asked her to do Lula-Lee was during the Yukaku portion of their honeymoon, but she didn’t pack the outfit. Raeth’s disappointment didn’t last long, however, because Saudaji had other wonderful ideas for what they could do in their luxury hotel room.

“I was going to ask if you’d do Lula-Lee for me once we got into hyperspace, but I think we should both be fully healed, first.”

Raeth completed his pre-flight routine and got the Patient Pylat’s engine humming. He turned to Saudaji, beaming like a proud father. “Do you hear that? I finished tuning her up a couple weeks ago, and now she’s purring like a tooka.”

The vessel lifted off the jungle floor and rose into the sky as members of their tribe watched from the village. Mandalorians weren’t wont to shed tears, but Te Kohe openly wept as Raeth and Saudaji disappeared in the clouds, just like he openly wept when they said their farewells to him and the others before boarding.

The Patient Pylat exited Mandalore’s atmosphere and then entered hyperspace several minutes later. This was the first time the ship had been thrust into the glowing, blue-white dimension in over a month. Raeth remembered the date and time of that last trip; he had traveled off-planet for only a few hours to test upgrades he had performed to the hyperdrive. This present voyage to the planet Tanaab was the first long-range test of the upgraded system.

Raeth and Saudaji settled into comfortable silence. The jump to hyperspace made his full-body aches flare up anew, but that only briefly stopped him from feeling glad to be soaring through space again. He didn’t realize he had a tiny smile on his face as he watched the swirling lights through the main viewport and listened to the ethereal hum that now surrounded them.

“To’a tried to teach me how to meditate again right before we left,” Raeth said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I continue to struggle with it. I can’t get my thoughts to slow down.

“Ironically, I think I might have an easier time making my thoughts slow down here, as we’re speeding through space at a ludicrous speed.” Another comfortable silence settled between them. Sitting up with his back straight in the pilot’s chair, Raeth closed his eyes and remembered To’a’s instructions. He focused on his breathing; he tried to anchor his thoughts to the sensation of breathing in and out, in and out. At the same time, he let the continual hum of hyperspace wash over him. Already, he was starting to discover that the hum helped suppress distractions.

“This is actually helping,” he said, interrupting his meditation after only a couple minutes. He kept his eyes closed, and his face was hyperspace blue. “I’ll have to play ambient hyperspace sounds whenever I meditate from now on.” Clearly, it would take a lot of work for Raeth to learn how to calm his mind, but at least he was beginning to learn.

 

[Apollo Wilde]

“I’m actually surprised you dove in the way that you did,” it was a laugh that quickly turned into a groan. She wasn’t sure what body part she needed to tend to first: her head, her eyes, her lip, her sides: all were causalities from her laughter. “Still,” she groaned, setting down the pad on a nearby console, “worth it.” Had to do something to work off all of the excesses from Yukaku.


Though the fight had started with a bad call, it’d gone from pure aggression to something of a rumble between siblings: somewhere along the lines, foul moods had dispersed and the whole thing ended with a strange bout of laughter - slapped shoulders, looking for missing teeth. It’d surprised her most of all to see Raeth had joined in, though he’d clearly gotten the short end of the stick from some attacks. Still, she mused as she watched him prep, he’d changed, grown, quite a bit in their time on Mandalore. Hell, he’d grown quite a bit since she first met him. Her expression would shift from amused to tender, not changing as he mentioned the broken plastic on the console. If she had it in her to be slightly embarrassed, she possibly would have been, but, instead, she smirked, wincing as the expression tugged at the broken skin of her lower lip. “Rae’ika, you old softie you.”


“Mmm, I suppose I could dig up Lula Lee again, if she want to play,” the last was said in that syrupy sweet trill that had defined the sex-pot character. “Besides,” slipping back into her naturally lower voice, “I owe for you for that one night on Yukaku.” This time, she did actually blush a little, remembering it. Hopefully he’d gotten that on camera as well - though knowing him, he more than likely had. Who knew that he’d look so good in any sort of uniform? And could adapt to a character so well? Something about seeing him all polished and authoritarian had turned her into absolute goo - it’d surprised him as well - not that he’d let it show in a way that broke character.


Now, a bit bashful, she actually resorted to drawing little circles around buttons on the console. “But…you know, if you were…in the mood to play the officer again…I wouldn’t be opposed.” And as quick as that, she cleared her throat, changing the subject. She had a pretty good idea of where the Lula Lee outfit was, but as much as her mind and heart were willing, her flesh certainly wasn’t. The conversation changed, and she could only nod in agreement when he spoke of how the ship was running. Considering how long it had been grounded, she was more than inclined to agree.


Silence slipped between the two of them easily, and her attention turned inwards. Not to anything particularly deep; simply making a mental catalogue of her injuries from head to toe. It felt like this had been the first time since the fight that there had been some degree of quiet. There was some regret there; she knew it - was too prideful for her own good in waving off that bacta. Then again, it wouldn’t have done to show any sort of weakness in front of family, especially when she knew she was going to cry when they were leaving. It was an inevitable thing: there hadn’t been time for tears the first time. Now, it felt all the more poignant, with their acceptance of her and Raeth. Family bonds that had strengthened and tightened more than she thought they ever would.


At his mention of T’oa, she felt her brows raise despite the pain. He’d always been the most…distant one. If ‘distant’ was the right word for it. Far-sighted and calm, like he’d lived several lifetimes and inartistically knew the way of least resistance. For whatever time he’d spent with Raeth, she’d notably not asked about it. That was their time, a time she considered sacred. Meditation sounded about right from T’oa. Now that she was older, had seen more of the galaxy, her fears about him were all but confirmed. With training, if he had gone off-world…


“Let me know when you need the time to do it,” uncustomary softness from her, an unspoken understanding of the trauma he’d gone through; what they were on their way to solve. “And I’ll stay out of the way.” Not in a sense of her abandoning him, but simply allowing himself the space to breathe and to figure things out in his own head.

 

[BewareTheDream]

Recognizing his thoughts were getting too negative, Raeth sought to brighten his mood by conversing with Saudaji. Nothing could brighten his mood like her. "Have you ever been to Tanaab, or any other agriworld?"

Raeth had sent Saudaji a brief on their current destination. Like other agriworlds, all the land surface of Tanaab was dedicated to the production of crops or the raising of cattle. Much of the work was done by droids and other machines, including tractors, harvesters, and balers with electronic brains that were basically massive droids on wheels. There were no cities on the surface of the planet. Due to government regulations, humanoid settlements were kept small and spread out. And because of automation, the humanoid population didn't need to explode on the planet's surface.

The situation in space was different, however. The crops, meat, milk, and other goods produced on-planet were continually shuttled to the multiple space stations in orbit. Thousands upon thousands of sentient beings worked on each of these bustling stations, ensuring the foodstuffs were transported to countless other worlds. So technically, Tanaab did have cities, but none of them touched the ground.

All of this information and more were in the briefing Raeth sent Saudaji, but in all likelihood, she was already well aware of what to expect.

"I don't like worlds like this," Raeth said. "They remind me of where I grew up. Or I should say, where I thought I grew up. It wasn't an agriworld, but it was a rural community. I hated every second i was there."

His eyes met hers, and he chuckled, but Saudaji could hear no mirth in it. "Is it weird that I still think about my childhood even though I now know none of it was real? It was all programmed into my mind."

Raeth looked back toward hyperspace. "It's still real to me," he mused.

 

[Apollo Wilde]

“Mmm…” She rubbed at her chin, her gaze drifting up towards the ceiling. She rubbed at her chin, closed her eyes. “Maybe at some point? Some places are more memorable than others.” It was always about the mission: who she was after, where was the best place to find them. Learn enough for her to blend in, get in, get out. She wasn’t as naturally curious as Raeth was; preferring to save learning more about the places that appealed to her, or save her “enthusiasm,” if it could be called that, to the simple pleasure of being out in space, away from the pull of any particular planet, people, or thing. Still, it felt supremely…rude, not to go through the files that Raeth put together. She knew they covered everything - not just a minor thought of ‘everything’, but literally anything that she could think of.

Continuing to listen to him speak, she reached out to lace her fingers through his, meant to be reassuring without saying a word. “…I’m surprised you took to life on Mandalore, even with that in mind,” said meant to be comforting. “Of course it’s real to you. It just happened.” A smaller smile then, in obvious reference to his ‘roughing it’ on Mandalore. “It was nice having a simpler life…though I’m honestly not sure if it was something that I could do for the rest of my life. But you know, as always, things are always better with you, you know?”

 

[BewareTheDream]

The warmth of Saudaji’s hand caused Raeth’s face to light up. He took her hand in both of his, unfurled her fingers, and ran the pad of his thumb across them. Her fingertips were calloused from a lifetime of training and fighting. The callouses on his hands were much newer. When they first met, his fingertips were as smooth as a child’s, but that changed after months of living with her on Mandalore.

“I thought I would hate it there,” Raeth said when Saudaji spoke of her surprise. “I did at first. It’s so hot, and I always felt so itchy outside. I got used to the heat and the bugs and the rest of it, though.” He pressed a loving kiss to a couple of her fingers before their fingers entwined and their eyes met. “I’ll live anywhere as long as you’re there.”

Saudaji then confirmed that if his childhood was real to him, then that’s all that mattered. He smiled, for that’s what he wanted to hear.

His sad thoughts banished for now, Raeth tugged Saudaji out of her seat and onto his lap, where a warm embrace awaited her. For a long while, the two of them talked about nothing in particular while the Patient Pylat soared through a tunnel of pulsating blue. When they weren’t talking, they were making out. And when they weren’t focused solely on making out, they did other things that lovers do.

*****

As always, Raeth planned ahead. Long before they reached Taanab — long before they had even reached the Outer Rim Territories — Raeth had researched the Taanabi bureaucracy to find someone willing to look the other way for the right price. Ten thousand credits were wired to one Chief Administrator K’min, who then sent Raeth electronic credentials that ensured the Patient Pylat would not need to land in a space station for inspection before continuing to the planet.

Raeth was on comms with flight control for less than a minute, long enough to give a fake name, broadcast the fake credentials, and then get the green light to land.

“Have a pleasant stay on Taanab, Mr. Cassidy,” a pleasant-sounding female voice said.

“Thank you kindly, Miss,” Raeth replied with an agriworld drawl. “Although I’m here on business, I always have a pleasant time on Taanab. Over and out.”

The Pylat flew past the space station and toward the deep green planet. The ship banked to the left, maneuvering around one of Taanab’s many weather control satellites before heading toward a collection of dark clouds large enough to be seen from orbit. Burst of electricity periodically lit the clouds from within.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen a storm from this side,” Raeth said to Saudaji, still maintaining his drawl. He knew exactly how many days it had been since he’d seen a storm from space, but he chose not to mention it.

“Have you ever sat inside a hovercar while it went through a car wash? This is going to be like that, except better.” There was a child-like glee in Raeth’s voice as he steered the ship directly into the thunderstorm.

The instant they entered the storm, the Pylat shuddered, and heavy rain began to pound on her hull like so many hands drumming to a primal beat. Raeth flipped a switch to adjust the ship’s stabilizers, and although their flight smoothed out noticeably, Raeth and Saudaji still got jostled in their seats now and then.

There was nothing to see through the viewport except dark clouds and rain. Raeth flew using the instruments on the console, because the viewport was useless at the moment, even with the wipers on. Streaks of lightning flashed in front of them, sometimes at a distance, and sometimes right in front of the ship. More than one bolt of lightning struck the Patient Pylat, but the hull was designed to dissipate the electrical charge. Even so, Raeth kept the ship’s status readout in the corner of his eye to make sure everything remained in the green.

“What do you think?” He asked his love, his eyes and smile both bright. “Exhilarating, isn’t it?”

As exhilarating as it was, it did not last, for it only took a few seconds longer for the Pylat to break free from the clouds. Finally, they could see the land below. Rows upon rows of vegetables, fruits, and grains stretched out before them, creating a patchwork quilt of rain-soaked green and gold. To their right were vast grasslands, left alone by droid tractors so that the cattle had plenty to graze.

Raeth eased the ship into cruising speed while simultaneously descending. The shuddering stopped, and although the rain continued to patter on the hull, the sound only came from above instead of all around.

They zoomed past a field filled with dark, round shapes lying on the grass. Raeth pointed at them before they were gone from sight. “Those are staga. They’re not native to Taanab; they were brought here from another planet.” He was back to using his usual accent. “Have you ever eaten a staga steak? The last time I ate one was before you and I met. I didn’t like it, but I don’t think it was cooked properly. I’ll give it another try, especially since we’ll likely be eating a lot of it while we’re here.”

Tapping some buttons on the console, Raeth brought up a map of the area, along with coordinates he had programmed into the computer earlier. “We’ll be landing in Frimkin’s farm in about ten minutes. If there are any last-minute preparations you need to do, now’s the time to do it.

“We should not be visibly armed, by the way. There could be trouble, of course, so let’s prep accordingly. But at the same time, I don’t want to scare this Frimkin fellow. Let’s start with a light touch.”

With the Pylat in autopilot, Raeth stood up and put on a vest loaded with hidden tech. He also had two hold-out blasters, one hidden under each sleeve of his long-sleeved t-shirt. Over his rustic attire, he slipped on a dark green poncho, because he was sure the rain would continue to fall heavily at Frimkin’s farm.

 

[Apollo Wilde]

“I don’t remember too much before Mandalore,” she said, uncharacteristically soft for her. It was the tone that felt the most ‘natural’ when it came to discussing her life before the most obvious. It’d come out, of course, in the time that they’d been together: post-coital cuddling, extra information about her during a stake out that he hadn’t asked for - and, knowing him, probably already knew. In her own way, it had been her fumbling attempt to move closer to him, to wrap him into a life that felt increasingly lonely for reasons that she couldn’t quite define. “I know that there was a life before it, of course, but…it doesn’t really seem to matter that much.” Whoever she could’ve been, should’ve been - all of it was nothing more than shadows of a dream. What was real was what was in front of her - and it was all that mattered.

_____

Once, when she’d been too deeply in her cups and in a deceptively playful mood, she’d had Raeth go through all of the accents that he knew. And for well over an hour, was completely entranced by the one man show that followed. It wasn’t just that he did accents; he did people. He’d be a crusty old seafarer from Ahch-To in one moment, then respond as a tired old barmaid from Tatoonie. She’d foolishly thought that he’d take requests - and he had, at first, and then everything just became this - a milieu of people she’d never heard of, would never see, and somehow felt as real to her as her own family. At some point, surely to humor her, he’d thrown in a few Mandalorians, probably just to hear her giggle. It was with the same, child-like glee and wide-eyed wonder that she watched him now as “Mr. Cassidy,” knowing, without him saying so, that Mr. Cassidy was a whole person himself, with likes, dislikes, and probably a little lady waiting for him with a purring vro-cat nearby.

Her amused revelry was somewhat shaken up as he approached the storm - and with his words on top of his actions, it was clear that he wasn’t going to make an attempt to dodge it. It was truly humorous how much of a set of opposites that they could be; for all of her rough edges and crude manner, she was deceptively cautious. One used to fighting with their hands alone often had to be; she could make no assumptions for anything outside of herself, and there were calculated risks and then just being a dang-blasted idiot, and most of the time, the latter didn’t survive long on Mandalore. So, as she typically did with Raeth when she wanted to humor him even if it was something she’d never do herself and would traditionally shake her head in mock disappointment (maybe even click her tongue if she was feeling particularly cheeky - a habit that he would’ve by now was a Moerangi special) - which was sit back, tense up appropriately, and let him do it. At least this time she didn’t have to be on the ready with medical supplies (though she’d learned quickly that Raeth didn’t take risks that resulted in injury, but he was still tickled by her thoughtfulness and it became a habit for her to always have medical supplies on the ready just to see the soft light in his eyes). But she gave a long, pained sigh for his own edification, though the severity of it was lost by the way she smiled down at the dark clouds.

Perhaps it was additionally undercut by the way she jumped every time lightning struck the ship. There was always inherent humor in seeing a hardened assassin and bounty hunter nearly leap out of her skin every time a bolt struck too close for her own comfort, and even more humor in how she glowered at the offending weather and grumbled under her breath in Mando’a.

Grumbles would eventually give way to a small, so small, so tiny, as to almost to be imagined, sound of amazement at the green fields below them. Green things, she’d always loved: the endlessness of the ocean, and the unspoken health of green fields. Coming from Mandalore, it would seem that she’d be tired of it, or perhaps take it for granted, but when one was raised on learning very quickly the difference between feast or famine when it came to crops, there was something about endless fields of green that amazed her. Without fully realizing it she’d lifted a bit out of her seat, leaning forward to cram as much of the scenery into her eyes as she could. When he mentioned what the furry beasts were, her brows rose just a bit. The name sounded familiar - but like so many things that weren’t of utmost importance in her mission, it was quickly discarded to blow around idly in her mind. “I don’t think that I have?” The question was intentional; she’d only really started to develop a more sophisticated palate since they’d started living together in earnest (despite having ample opportunity to do more) - but still preferred the most basic and rough of fare when given the opportunity. ‘Scavenger food,’ she’d once called it, with a small amount of pride: things that could be made simply, quickly, and last for a long time. And, to her credit, there were a few things that she was able to cook that weren’t instantaneously horrific or an ‘acquired taste.’ Things that were considered a treat - but if looked into too closely, would cause most gourmands to excuse themselves to hide their revulsion.


Then, she seemed to brighten a bit. Crops meant that they had staples. And staples meant learning. Raeth was rubbing off on her; when she had the opportunity to, she’d look into what the lower-class people of the planet typically ate, and would go out of her way to re-create it. Coming from not that much to begin with gave her a natural knack for blending into the roughest neighborhoods, and, in turn, creating an information network that some crime syndicates would be envious of. “I wonder what their take on porridge is,” and she said it with no small amount of curiosity. She’d grown up eating a mash of old grain that’d been slow-cooked in water until it resembled more of a slurry; generally flavorless and given to younglings and the sick. Sure, there were ways of spicing it up - which most did - but it had become a sort of quest for her to figure out if there was an equivalent on any planet that they spent significant amount of time on. It seemed silly, and perhaps it truly was, but it was a sort of stress relief, something to take with her, to distract herself from greater issues. The mystery of who Raeth was still concerned her, clearly, but ultimately, everything had been overshadowed by her intrinsic urge to protect him. Simplistic, but the good thing about simplicity was that it made the complicated less so. “I liked the porridge from Scarif - remember, that one-eyed old Nagai in Yukaku made it?” It was, in theory, meant to be a hangover cure -unsuccessful at that-, but had turned out to be the only thing she was able to keep down after a particularly indulgent night in the Pleasure District. “She was so sweet. Still don’t know how she lost her eye, though.” She’d been a housekeeper -or was it cook?- or at least posing as one, though it was easy for one assassin to tell that someone else was in the same line of work. Realistically, though, the old Nagai woman had treated them both like they were her long lost children and often fed them until Saudaji thought food was going to be coming out of her ears. “I’m going to have to get her something here.”


A glance over at the map, and a soft sound of confirmation from her. There wasn’t a need for disguise here, and wearing beskar would send a message that was a bit too…threatening, if the information that Raeth was acting on was correct. ‘Less threatening’ didn’t mean ‘not threatening,’ however, so by the time she was finished getting ready, he could be reassured that in this dressed down state, she had no fewer than seven ways to kill an average sized humanoid without using a blaster. Maybe eight ways, if he wanted to include poison. That was a new thing with her, and something, ironically, that she’d taken a great liking to. If it was because she generally liked it or because tinkering with creating various strains meant several hours working together with him in close proximity was anyone’s guess.



And she still would deny, deny, deny that one of the concoctions she made was knowingly a sex pollen.


Her attire was as rustic as his; beat up coveralls that perhaps had once been a shade of blue, but had faded into the muted color of well-use. Spattered creatively with mud, oil, and maybe darker rust red spots that could’ve been animal blood, she additionally wore heavy gloves that had shiny fingertips from being worn and used for years. With her lekku lashed back loosely from her face with stripes of once white gauze, she looked all the world for a rough neck used to hard labor, something that her musculature lent additional believability to. All that was missing was a hat - which was deftly placed on her head as she prepared to leave the cockpit. Twi’leks did tend to fare better under harsh desert climates similar to their native Ryloth, but it didn’t mean that she couldn’t burn, and she wasn’t a fan of something that could be easily preventable - especially having learned the hard way more than once that the more sun protection she could use, the better. But in this case, the wide-brimmed, oil treated leather hat was to keep the rain from dripping directly into her face, as well as the clear plasticine poncho she wore.



“Ready when you are,” she grinned at him, trying on her own Agri-world drawl. Convincing, but not as convincing as his.

 

[BewareTheDream]

Raeth enjoyed putting on a show, yet he almost never performed on stage. The few times he did were for undercover assignments, like when Saudaji assumed the role of Dian’La Roslison during their first assassination mission. Perhaps in another life, he could have been an actor or a comedian, but in this life that kind of exposure could get him killed.

But Raeth didn’t need a stage to perform in front of an audience. Every time he put on a disguise and adopted a fake persona was a performance for an unwitting audience. And on the ship, he performed a one-man show for Saudaji that was like a trip around the galaxy through dialects, accents, and characters.

Strangely enough, although Raeth could nail the Mandalorian-speaking-common accent and could imitate certain members of their tribe with uncanny accuracy, for some reason he couldn’t get Mando’a 100% right. There were some words that even his talented tongue tripped over. Saudaji mocked him for this deficiency on more than one occasion; he found her gentle mockery to be both endearing and frustrating.

Another thing that Raeth found endearing was how Saudaji could be startled by a storm. He noticed her react to each bolt of lightning that struck the Pylat, and he couldn’t help but comment. “You’re as cool as a kebroot when we’re in battle, but a little storm makes you jumpy?” He shook his head and chuckled.

“You’re a collection of curious contrasts, Daji’ka. I love you more because of them.” Smiling, he could have stared at her forever, but he had a ship to land.

Moments later, Saudaji asked him about the old, one-eyed Nagai woman they met on Yukaku. “Yeah, I remember. She was sweet. If I could have a different grandma programmed into my memories, I’d like her to be like her.” He didn’t really enjoy the porridge she made, but he could tell Saudaji liked it, so he kept that opinion to himself.

“I bet she lost her eye from something that doesn’t make a great story, like it was scratched out by a cat, or she ran with scissors as a youngling, or something.”

Raeth could have let the Patient Pylat land itself, but he regained control in the final stage of descent to choose the landing spot himself. He chose a patch of land that was a good distance away from the fenced-in staga so as not to spook them any more than they already were from the thunder. Months of caring for animals with Saudaji in their village home taught him a lot of things about cattle that he previously had no interest in learning, including how cattle are usually agitated by starships.

Before disembarking from the Pylat, Raeth called Sebastian-v2 to the cockpit.

“Yes, Master?” Sebastian asked.

“Keep the engine running in low power mode. Be ready to take off if either Saudaji or I say so. One of us will give you word if it’s safe to shut her down.”

“Of course, Master.” The droid was too bulky to sit in the pilot’s chair, so instead he stood beside the chair and inserted a cable from his forearm into a slot on the console. Now ready to take control of the ship, Sebastian stood statue-still, where he would remain for however long he was required.

“No snide remarks, Sebastian?” Raeth asked while standing in the cockpit’s doorway.

“I wasn’t in the mood to make one,” Sebastian replied. “But I can insult you now, if you wish.”

Raeth guffawed. “Naw, that’s okay, buddy. Save it for when I get back.”

“Understood. And you, Mistress Saudaji? Would you like me to insult you now or later?”

Shaking his head, Raeth left the cockpit. “I think he’s fucking with us,” he told Saudaji after the door hissed shut behind them.

Later, in the cargo hold, Raeth used a wall-mounted monitor to check the ship’s scanners and exterior camera feeds. Once he was confident there was nobody lurking out there in the mud around the ship, he flipped the switch to lower the ramp.

“Nothing out there but them staga,” he told Saudaji, using the agri-world accent he had showed off to her earlier.

Within seconds of the ramp opening, the scent of the storm wafted into the cargo hold. The sound of rain pelting the ship and splattering into mud puddles grew much louder, too. Raeth took one step onto the ramp, but then stopped abruptly. He would be lost in thought until Saudaji said something to him.

“You know as well as I do that we’re probably not walking into a trap, but instead we’re about to meet another…well, another me. An ‘Other Raeth.’” He couldn’t bring himself to say the word ‘clone’ at that moment. “Maybe Prime is organizing a reunion of sorts.

“I’d actually prefer to walk into a trap.” Chuckling ruefully, he slipped a pair of hi-tech goggles over his face, then raised the hood of his poncho. Finally, he walked down the ramp and onto Frimkin’s farm.

Mud squelched beneath their boots as they walked beside a long, metal and mesh fence that kept the staga penned in. They passed a group of the bovines huddled together against the storm, looking like a pile of hairy boulders. They mooed constantly, bleakly, and Raeth imagined they were cursing the sky for soaking them and scaring them with its loud, celestial light show.

Although it was middle of the day, it was as dark as night, so Raeth activated the night vision of his goggles to clearly see the path he and Saudaji followed to the farmhouse. He also scanned the area for anything out of the ordinary. He knew that Saudaji was doing the same, for in their line of work, being hyper-aware of your surroundings was a necessity.

They reached the farmhouse without incident. It looked like an old but well-maintained building. The weathered, wooden walls were painted cerulean, while other parts of the two-story house—like the trims and the railing of the wrap-around porch—were painted white. Raeth assumed the house was painted this way to remind onlookers of the sky on a clear, summer day.

“Cute,” he said under his breath as he and Saudaji stepped underneath the porch’s roof and out of the rain. Out of habit, he looked for signs of traps on the porch, its steps, and on the front door, but saw nothing alarming. He did, however, notice that the doorbell had a tiny camera above it and a tiny speaker below it. Right away, Raeth could tell that those devices weren’t bought from a store, but instead were custom built, probably by the homeowner. He took a moment to inspect the craftsmanship—he thought it was pretty good but unsophisticated, and he identified some things he would have done better.

Before either of them could ring the doorbell, a male voice from the tiny speaker greeted them.

“Good afternoon, strangers. How can I help y’all?” The words were spoken slowly, like molasses dripping from a spoon.

“Good afternoon!” Raeth replied, slipping back into his agri-world drawl. “Do I have the pleasure of speaking to Tonnover Frimkin?”

“Why yes, I am Tonnover Frimkin.” Although Raeth slowed his speech down whenever he used an agri-world accent, the man on the other side of the wall spoke even slower.

“Hello, Mr. Frimkin. This may sound strange, but my partner and I were sent here by someone we refer to as ‘Prime.’ He’s a little weird, and he only communicates through holograms or cryptic, written messages, never in person. Do you happen to know anyone like that?”

There was a lengthy pause before Frimkin responded. “Yes, I know him. Please give me a moment.”

Raeth and Saudaji heard a couple heavy locks being opened before the door swung inward. Standing on the other side of the screen door was a stranger with a familiar look. Tonnover Frimkin had the same green eyes as Raeth. He had the same dark brown hair, although his was shaved on the back and sides, whereas Raeth’s hair had grown out during his time on Mandalore. Frimkin had long stubble, but beneath it were the same boyish good looks that Raeth saw whenever he looked in a mirror.

“Why don’t you come inside out of the rain,” Frimkin suggested.

Raeth thought he was ready to meet another Other Raeth, but at that moment he was proven wrong. He just froze, unable to do anything but stare at the other clone through the goggles that obscured half his face.

“Uhh, are you alright, stranger?” Frimkin asked as he pushed open the screen door just enough to lean outside. When he didn’t get a response from Raeth, he turned to Saudaji. “Is something wrong with your friend?”

Raeth felt light-headed all of a sudden. He turned to the side, doubled over, and braced his hands on the front of his thighs. On the verge of passing out, he struggled to remember the breathing exercises To’a taught him.

“Your friend looks like he’s about to be sick,” Frimkin told Saudaji before holding the screen door open and stepping aside. “Please help him inside, and I’ll fix him something to settle his stomach.”

 

[Apollo Wilde]

The air was heavy with the scent of wet dirt, broken grass, damp fur. An inelegant stink that could only belong to farmlands. Weeding through that, she thought she could detect hints of machinery; the always out of place sharpness of chemicals. Nothing that felt too untoward. Nothing that tripped the hairs on the back of her neck or stirred the air around her lekku; the only thing that she could say were “superhuman” about her senses. And even that was a stretch, if she were going to be honest. She was a ‘normal’ humanoid - just a very well trained one.


Fat drops from overhead drummed against her poncho; occasionally dripped down to splash on the tip of her nose. Chill, but fresh. “…I don’t know what Prime’s end game is.” Softly, almost lost among the sounds of their footsteps plodding through the mud and puddles. She’d been running circles round that same thought for ages now, it felt, and still had come no closer to an answer. It was maddening. And as much as it was for her, it had to have been worse for him. In deference to his mood, she’d not brought it up as much as she could have - partially out of consideration for his feelings; the strangeness of the situation itself, and partially because this wasn’t something she could solve by slamming a fist into it. Protector: that had been her role since she was old enough to decide what she truly wanted. And now, she’d failed in that - several times over when it came to Raeth. How she was supposed to mop up the remains, prove to him that she was a safe place, she was still struggling with. And more than she felt sorrow and dismay for him, she grew all the more enraged at herself. How could she have not seen any of this? Had sensed something?


She was quiet - not abnormal during a ‘mission - as she walked beside him, carefully scanning the otherwise innocuous farmland. Occasionally, a flare of lighting would zig-zag slash across the sky above them, painting everything in a brilliant blue-white light before vanishing with a teeth rattling rumble that seemed to shake the ground beneath them. On the ship, it would’ve been enough to make her jump, but on the ground, she seemed as unbothered as if they were walking through the same field on a mild sunny day. Something about being closer to the earth, as it were - reassuring to know what was beneath her feet, around her. And as the farmhouse grew closer, she felt her heart thrum up, hard - catch in her throat. A hard swallow from her, and then…the preternatural calm. That inhale that drew in all of the fear and terror and nerves from approaching death and exhaled it out into warm nothingness. A breathing technique that served as the backbone of her martial art skill; calmed the heart, heightened focus. There would be no other ‘tell’ to any observer that she had switched ‘on’; Raeth would possibly know, simply by having spent so much time around her and watching her work. If anything, she’d only gotten better at it, having time to re-train herself on Mandalore with T’oa, as well as some of the other exotic hothouse flowers of beings in Yukaku; dangerous assassins of their own design.


“I think it’s quaint,” she responded, her dark eyes taking in the farm house. “Ours was better, though,” a little one-up slipped between them, an effort to bolster his spirits, see a shadow of his smile. “I bet keeping up the paint is a full time job.” Even through the weather, she could see that the place was well-kept; a far cry from some of the other places she’d observed while they were descending. Either this place was new, or this person had a lot of time on his hands. The latter seemed not so much of a stretch, what, with farming being handed off to droids and the like, but something about it felt…unnatural. Not in a way that made her feel in danger, but an observation nonetheless.


The voice didn’t surprise her, even as she grabbed the edges of her poncho’s hood, shaking loose water from it to spatter onto the wood beneath their booted feet. A brief glance down showed well worn material, as close to spotless as could be expected. The only real mud and dirt coming from their shoes directly. Clean. Entirely too clean for an aged farmer.


Then it hit her.


The voice.


She went shock-still beside Raeth, taking in another deep breath to still her heart again. She’d been surprised once in the bowels of that horrid place, and she wasn’t up to taking another chance like that. Subtly and swiftly, she placed herself in front of Raeth. Not enough to be considering her shoving him aside, but to put herself between whatever was going to come out of that door and him. Raeth’s voice became a pleasant background hum as her pulse thrummed in her ears.


Breath in.


Breath out.


Breath in. Hold -


When the door opened and she was met with a scruffier Raeth, she exhaled, her teeth coming together in a soft click. There was no immediate threat; he hadn’t come to the door, blaster in hand. In fact, he spoke so softly and with no small amount of innocence that had the situation been different, she would’ve been touched by his blasé hospitality. Whatever she had been expecting - this wasn’t quite it. Yes, there had been…tanks of her lover, that she’d seen. But she had no indication save for the man beside her that there were…more. Besides the ‘original.’


Exhale through closed teeth. Inhale through flared nostrils.


She dropped beside Raeth, her hand rubbing his back soothingly with her dominant hand, her left held up to warn off the other man. “Taylir,” (hold) the switch to Mando’a soft and natural, washing away all make-believe accents, returning the world to the two of them. “Haalur…haalur,” (breathe, breathe) the second repetition of the word falling into To’a’s gentle cadence. For the giant man’s aloof manner, once time was spent around him, perhaps considered cracking the facade that he had, he was an unshakeable beacon of calm. It was that sense of calm, that understated kindness and understanding that she tried to will into Raeth now by the touch of her hand, the gentle press of her nose, chill to the touch, against the warmth of his cheek. “I’m here with you. Always.” The latter firmly reasserted with her lips against his cheek; the steady pass of her hand back and forth over his back.


“…I appreciate your kindness,” when she spoke again, it was in her ‘working’ voice - a flat affect that pressed unaccented and unemotional words hard into the air. The voice of someone that could not be surprised or intimidated, but perhaps reasoned with. She made no move to usher Raeth inside - instead, she kept her focus on him, her ears registering the receding footsteps of the other, this ‘Tonnover Frimkin.’ He plainly could tell they were coming; he could’ve set a million traps between their landing and here. She had to go with her gut; he meant them no harm.


For now.


“Rae’ika, what do you hear? What do you see, here with me?” Softly to him again, trying to coax him out of the labyrinth of his mind, the spiral of confusion, back to the present. Not to rush, but to remind him that the ground was truly solid beneath his feet and that she was real, real and beside him.

 

[BewareTheDream]

To’a may have been a beacon of calm to the people of their village, but Saudaji was Raeth’s beacon. She was the pillar he could lean on. She was his everything.

There were times—like when the two of them cuddled in the stillness of a Te Ika night or aboard the Pylat while it was enfolded by the hum of hyperspace—when Raeth considered how funny it was that Saudaji had become his source of calm. It felt like yesterday when the two of them nearly killed each other. But now that they’ve accepted and loved each other, she had become the only person in the galaxy who could reliably get his usually racing thoughts to slow.

And at that moment, Saudaji was the only person in the galaxy who could convince him to control himself.

Raeth had nearly passed out. Eyes shut tight, struggling against a sudden rush of wooziness, he heard her speaking to him in Mando’a and used her words and her voice like a rope with which he could drag himself out of the encroaching blackness.

She asked him what he heard. “I hear your voice. I hear rain on a wooden roof. Floorboards creaking.” Slowly but surely, his breathing began to slow. He was able to stand a little straighter and walk slowly, so Tonnover Frimkin again insisted that they step inside. There were no traps or weapons to be seen, at least not yet, so Raeth and Saudaji stepped inside. He had lean on her as they moved.

Their host led them to his kitchen, where Saudaji asked Raeth what he saw. He had to pry his eyes open and tear the goggles off his face before answering her. “I see you.” His gaze darted around the room. “I see an unfamiliar kitchen. Mint-colored cabinets, brown counters, white plates, silver appliances. The cabinets are new, but the kitchen table is old. The kitchen is spotless; I don’t even see any cobwebs in the corners of the ceiling, which I would expect in a house like this.”

The one thing that Raeth saw but did not list was the Other Raeth standing a few feet away, staring at him patiently.

“Thank you for noticing how clean I keep my home,” Frimkin drawled without a hint of sarcasm. Not only was there no sarcasm in his tone, there was no surprise either, even though Raeth now had his goggles off and it was obvious the two men shared the same face. The two regarded each other in silence for several seconds. They were each analyzing each other. Raeth was still struggling to breath normally, whereas the Other Raeth looked as cool as a cucumber.

“Let me fix you that tea,” Frimkin said before grabbing the kettle off the stove and then filling it with water from the metal sink.

With help from Saudaji, Raeth was able to take a seat at the kitchen table. It really did look old. Heavily scuffed by what must have been decades or maybe even centuries of family meals, it looked like it was carved out of walnut, or something similar, by hand. There were several other seats for Saudaji if she chose to sit.

Raeth tried to relax, but his anxiety had other ideas. He was ready to whip out his hold-out blaster and shoot the other clone if he tried anything suspicious. Frimkin didn’t do anything suspicious, though. He merely boiled some water and then prepared three cups of tea, serving Raeth and Saudaji before taking a seat across from them.

Raeth didn’t touch the cup. Instead, he held his gaze to Frimkin’s face. “You don’t look surprised.”

Frimkin took a sip of tea. Lowering his cup, he nodded and smiled. His smile looked so much like’s Reath’s, except that was no edge to it. No arrogance. No playfulness. It looked kind. “I’m sorry to contradict you, friend, but I really am surprised. I may not look it, but right now my heart is thumpin’ so hard I can almost feel it bruisin’ my ribs.”

Frimkin glanced at Raeth’s untouched cup. “Don’t you like tea? I can fix you somethin’ else, if you like.” He looked at Saudaji, and his smile broadened. There was hint of something in his eyes that was so similar to what she saw whenever Raeth gazed at her. Then again, maybe it was just that their eyes were identical.

“How about you, friend?” Frimkin asked her. “Is there somethin’ I can fix you? It’s not too late for a snack, and I have some Jun-lime pie in the fridge that I can heat up. Although I have to admit, Jun-lime pie makes me happy whether it’s warm or cold.”

There was something about Frimkin’s attitude that agitated Raeth. “Forget the pie, Frimkin. You’re face to face with your doppelganger and you’re offering him a piece of fragging pie? What’s up with you?” He was scowling and trembling with a combination of budding rage and the lingering effects of his panic attack.

Their host’s expression didn’t change. “Please call me Tonny. Everybody does. And I’m sorry if I offended you.” He set his cup down on the ancient table. “Maybe I’m actin’ like this because I was told about your arrival in advance. The older version of us—Father—first contacted me a couple months ago. He told me a little about you and said you’d visit me soon. And now, here you are.”

“Pfft. ‘Father.’ What a crock of scrag.”

“Well, what would you prefer I call him?”

“He calls himself ‘Prime,’ which is also a crock of scrag. But I find it less offensive than ‘Father.’”

“Okay then, Prime it is.” Tonny resumed sipping his tea while Raeth’s and possibly Saudaji’s cup sat there ignored.

“What did Prime tell you about me and my visit?”

“He said you and your partner here are both dangerous and capable. And he told me to be prepared to travel with you, because there’s someone who means me harm, and the two of you can protect me.”

Although Prime’s warning was a serious matter, Tonny turned to Saudaji and changed the subject as though it were no big deal. “I hope I’m not mistaken in guessin’ you’re Saudaji. Prime said Raeth’s partner is a Twi’lek. And I must say, although I’ve read about Twi’lek and have seen your people in holo-movies and whatnot, I’ve never met one in person until now.

“Your people’s reputation for great beauty is well-earned.”

Raeth couldn’t help but feel more agitated the more he listened to Frimkin.

 

[Apollo Wilde]

“Jate….jate…(good)..” She tried to channel as much of Anohi’s impossibly dulcet tone into her own voice. Her right hand drifted down to lace his fingers in hers, further reminding him that she was there. That she wasn’t going anywhere. “What else…?”


She hummed softly in approval at each observation from him, allowing her eyes to follow the trail that he described. The cabinets (odd shade of green), the table. Though outwardly she seemed solely focused on Raeth, it would be a fool to think that she wasn’t keeping tabs on Tonnover. He moved with an ease that suggested that this was indeed his home; familiarity with the place. Though, if she wanted to overthink it, if he was anything like Raeth (an assumption she didn’t want to make; she couldn’t allow herself to make. Raeth was Raeth; he was an individual. His mind was his, his experiences were his) - he could’ve only been in this home for hours before having it memorized. She wanted to go with the tugging in her gut - that yes, he may be…genetically identical to Raeth, he wasn’t the same person. There was no way he could be.


When Tonnover spoke, she shot him a glare that was so swift, so cutting, that had it been a weapon, the man would’ve been dead five times over before hitting the ground. Though she’d also sensed that he meant nothing smart by it, she was tempted to snap at him - tell him to better understand what was currently happening in front of him. Instead, she forced her features back into a neutral expression, the tightening of her lips causing her scar to pucker, a deep line drawn into the smoothness of her face. An exhale, and her attention back to Raeth. The other…this Tonnover, had a stillness that she couldn’t read. She cursed herself internally for her inability to pick him apart; she was being overly cautious. She knew it - it was making her too hesitant. Afraid to act on sheer instinct, to trust the skills that had kept her alive this long.


Still, all the same, her hands were gentle on Raeth as she helped him to his chair, her mind calculating what she could do, where she could move, should things get hostile. Once he was seated, there was a moment of hesitation from her: should she sit, or should she remain standing? How would this man act? Raeth sat, stiffly. Tonnover served them, seeming to ignore her outside of setting the tea down, and took his seat. Fair. She slowly took her seat next to Raeth, her gaze settled squarely on the man in front of them.


His hands are the same.


Why had she been so taken with this man’s hands, long fingers folded around his cup? Those hands, with blunted nails, pinked knuckles, evidence of someone who worked with his hands, but was fastidious about keeping them clean. A rough farmer’s soap, she figured, that felt more grit that fat and lye. He’d taken his time washing his hands while he was prepping the kettle; she could tell by the difference in the sounds of running water. The tea was basic, that much her nose could tell her. A blend that Saboten would’ve turned her nose up at - too basic, provincial, for her Yukaku developed senses.


Saudaji wasn’t much for tea.


Still, she cradled the cup between her hands, luxuriating in the heat easing from the ceramic. Grounding herself, she caught a glance of her distorted reflection in the cup, shimmering and breaking with the moment of her hands. Though her hands were no longer in contact with Raeth’s, she had positioned herself to close to him in her chair that their shoulders were in contact. Beneath the table, the firm line of her thigh was pressed against his, constant contact without being directly noticeable.


As heightened as her senses were, she hadn’t gotten to the point of being able to actually hear someone else’s heartbeat, so Tonnover’s words were greeted with a deadpan look from her - nothing that would imply that she didn’t believe him (she didn’t), but nothing that directly implied that she did believe.


His voice is the same.


Differences in cadences, and accents, yes, but the voice…that was still the same. The hands, the voice, the face. Only minor differences, minor surface differences, but…She had to be strong. Had to keep herself focused, not just for herself, but for Raeth as well.


She…just hadn’t expected for her heart to lurch the same way it did when Raeth smiled at her when Tonnover did.


Osik.


Not that she had too much time to dwell on it; Raeth was speaking now, and she reached between them to firmly grasp his knee. It was meant to be calming and steadying. She didn’t like the situation any more than he did - hated how much it threw her off-center. It’d been one thing to see the older Raeth, ‘Prime’, there had been similarities, but enough to trick anyone into thinking that they were looking at a father.


‘Father.’ The thought made her grimace. Apparently Tonnover had a more positive interaction, with the way he spoke the word so easily. Easily enough that she couldn’t stop her eyes from narrowing.


So they’d been in contact. For how long? What is their relationship? Why is he so..easy with all of this?


“Why would you believe anything that that man had said?” The words flowed from her before she could stop them, and it was only through her years of working with bounties that she was able to keep her voice in a flat affect, even without the modulators of her helmet. “How long have you been in contact with him? And what purpose would he have to save you?”


Before she could finish her last statement, Tonnover had turned his attention to her, was looking at her like he was finally seeing her for the first time, or, more than likely, allowing himself to take a long look at her. It set her nerves on edge at the same time that it sparked the warmth in her stomach that she’d only experienced with Raeth. Recognizing it for what it was made her angrier. Her anger seemed to radiate off of her, a vibrating of the air around her body though she kept carefully still, carefully cool. She opted not to acknowledge the compliment, but to soldier on.


“Answer me.” Her voice settled hard into the syllables, skirting on the edge of emotion. There was only a small shift in her shoulders, the movement of a vrocat squaring up, figuring out the best method to attack.

 

[BewareTheDream]

The killer glare that Saudaji had shot at Frimkin had gone unnoticed, because at that same moment he turned away to start making them some tea. The next time he looked at her, she was wearing her work face once again.

There was a time not long ago when Raeth’s hands did not look quite so similar to Tonny’s. When he and Saudaji first met, his hands were pale and barely calloused, for he tended to avoid real sunlight like a vampire, and although he used his hands to build and tinker with machinery, he relied on his droids to do the hardest of manual labor.

The months of living on Mandalore changed him and his hands. His vampiric ways had ended, and for the first time in his life he had a tan. And between the work it took to build and maintain his and Saudaji’s humble ranch and the various construction projects the villagers tackled as a community, Raeth ended up working with his hands more than ever before. So now his hands truly were identical to Tonny’s.

It appeared as though the two were built similarly, too. Raeth imagined himself wearing the flannel shirt and jeans that Tonny now wore (although Raeth would never wear flannel unless he was disguised as someone like Bawb Awsheen), and by his estimation he would have filled the outfit the same.

Raeth hoped they were only physically identical. Dealing with Prime had made Raeth realize how maddening it was to deal with an adversary who thought like he did. The last thing he wanted was to make enemies with another Other Raeth.

Saudaji sat so close beside him that their shoulders and their thighs touched. Glancing at her, he smiled in silent thanks; he would smile at her again when she touched his thigh under the table. He knew she was touching him to remind him that she was there for him. If not for her, he would still be having a panic attack on a stranger’s porch.

Tonny was smiling at the two of them. Saudaji was being hit by that familiar smile from two different angles at once.

“I’m guessin’ the two of you are more than work partners?” Tonny asked. “I hope you don’t mind me sayin’ so, but it’s pretty clear you two are close. You make a cute couple.”

Just hearing Frimkin’s voice made Raeth’s smile disappear. He did not detect any condescension or double meaning in what the Other said, but it annoyed him, nonetheless. His first instinct was to proudly proclaim that, yes, not only were he and Saudaji close, but they were also married. He wanted to tell the whole galaxy that she was the only one who made him happy. Instead, he suppressed that instinct and left the question unanswered.

Saudaji asked Tonny why he would believe anything ‘Father’ said. He looked at his cup in silence for a few seconds before responding, as though the answer was hidden in his tea. “It really is an unbelievable situation, isn’t it? Here I was, mindin’ my business in my tiny, little corner of the galaxy, when all of a sudden I get a holo-call from a man who looks just like me, claimin’ I’m a clone and that he’s the original.”

His eyes met hers again, and he chuckled. Out of everything, it was Tonny’s eyes and smile that looked the most like Raeth’s. “I have to admit, I was an absolute wreck for that first week after Father first called me…excuse me, after Prime first called me. But I meditated on it. I searched inward, and what I found was that was Prime said felt right. It felt true. I had to learn how to accept it.

“Acceptance is gonna be a long, hard path, and I’m walking on it, now.”

Raeth guffawed. Frimkin sounded like a self-help guru, and it was pissing him off. He wanted to say ‘You meditated on it, and that’s why you’re so farking calm about this?!’, but his agitation left him momentarily mute.

Saudaji asked Frimkin another question, but instead of answering, he changed the subject and paid her a compliment. She then said “Answer me,” and the way she demanded it visibly startled the Other.

Tonny blinked in confusion for a second or two. “I’m sorry that I offended you, Saudaji.” He pronounced her name ‘Saw-dah-ji,’ and he took his time saying the word, just like he took his time saying every word. For Raeth, Frimkin’s drawl evoked images of sap creeping down the bark of a tree.

“I’ll keep my comments to myself from now on.” Tonny sat up straighter, indicating he was taking the interrogation more seriously. “Prime first contacted me two months ago. He had a holoprojector delivered here, and that’s how we speak. As for why he wants to save me: I can only guess. I was the one who proposed calling him ‘Father,’ and he didn’t seem to mind it at all. I reckon he actually does see himself as our father, and like any father, he wants to take care of his children.”

Tonny turned from Saudaji to Raeth, who was practically scowling. In contrast, Tonny was grinning. “If Prime’s our father, then you and I must be brothers, right?”

Raeth had an insult primed and ready, but before he could let it fly, a rush of wooziness overcame him. “Ohhhh…” Doubling over, his face nearly touched the corner of the table.

Tonny watched with what appeared to be genuine concern. “You really should drink the tea, brother. It’ll help.”

Raeth groaned miserably. He desperately needed Saudaji to comfort him again.

 

[Apollo Wilde]

He cannot be for real.


For a moment, Saudi’s work face dropped, and she literally gaped at the calm nature of the man in front of them. As quickly as she’d dropped it, she steeled her expression again, with a hint of annoyance furrowing her forehead. The crease in her forehead vanished as she leaned back, heavier than she needed to, to bump up against Raeth in a move that appeared accidental. It was a grounding thing for both herself and for him: a reminder for him to keep calm, and for her to keep her head firmly tethered on her shoulders.


She took in a deep breathe - though it wasn’t visible, Raeth could feel her chest rising, expanding. Hold in that odd stillness she had recently honed since her time on Mandalore. In that holding, it felt that a world of possibility was open to her: she could stand, she could strike, she could have the “Other” on the floor, perhaps in his last throes of death. It was a deadly stillness - one that made it to her eyes, flattened the deep brown into almost black.

Not like I can trust them to be real. I hate floundering in the darkness. Everything I ask leads to 15, 20, a hundred more questions. Not like getting answers out of him is difficult, but he seems to be slow on realizing that there’s a lot more that he needs to volunteer. He’s answering questions, yes, but little more than that.


His apology would go ignored; she didn’t have the additional brain space to literally process any sort of deviation from what she wanted. Nor did she want to give any sort of credence to the idea that this man could see her in the same way Raeth had seen her, all that time ago. The way he still looked at her. The idea was enough to make her stomach cold; tug at the string that she thought she’d long buried.


But can I truly rule out that this all hasn’t been manufactured…


Sucking the inside of her cheek, she closed her teeth over it, hard enough to almost draw blood. A creasing of her left brow was the only indication that she’d done anything to herself.


Speak. Tonnover had said “speak.” Implying to her that it was an ongoing thing. It would also seem that Prime considered this…offshoot as less than a threat. Someone that didn’t warrant the same sort of obfuscation that Raeth had. That…was a good sign. If Prime went through all of that trouble, even if it could be considered a “test,” that meant that clearly he saw Raeth as a threat - and this man before them as…almost like a child. No, nothing that fond. A pet, perhaps. An idle curiosity of a time past.


The ‘brothers’ comment was enough to return that deep glare to her face. The word wasn’t taken easily with her - nor was the concept of “family,” even as cobbled together as hers was.


“What are your memories-” It would be short and snappish - cut off by Raeth’s groan as he tilted forward. In an instant, her ire was forgotten, and she turned in her chair, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him close to her. So close that he could feel the warmth of her body beneath her baggy farm clothing. There would be no sweet perfume or oils on her this time - it would go against the character she was playing - but her warmth would always be the same. As so the strength in her grasp as she held him tightly.


“I’ve got you,” she murmured, only for his ears. “I’m not going anywhere.” A beat; then, “Want me to stab him?” It was meant to make him laugh, her feeble attempt to slip in a wisecrack when it was typically him that was the smart mouth.

 

[BewareTheDream]

All Raeth needed to feel better was Saudaji’s warmth. He could feel it radiate through her baggy clothes and through his rain-slicked poncho. Basking in it, he could feel the wooziness already begin to slip away. By listening to his wife’s reassuring words and going through the breathing exercises he had recently learned, he hastened his recovery. Once he felt more like himself, he wrapped his arms around her powerful body and thanked her with a hug.

Raeth knew that Frimkin was watching and witnessing his vulnerability. It was a dangerous thing to expose one’s vulnerability like that, but at that moment he didn’t care. When Saudaji offered to stab the Other, he laughed. “No, don’t…Not yet, anyway.”

If Saudaji glanced at Frimkin, she would see him looking uncomfortable. It was hard to say whether he was uncomfortable because she joked about stabbing him or because he felt like a third wheel.

“I’ll, uh, give you two some time alone,” Tonny said before picking up his cup of tea and exiting the kitchen. Judging by the sound of his footsteps, he went to whatever room was across the hall.

Thankful for the alone time, Raeth clung to Saudaji more desperately. His eyes were closed, his head still hung close to the table, and he continued his breathing exercise. This lasted for several more seconds before he straightened up, opened his eyes, and grinned at his wife. “Thank you, Cyare. I’m done having those spells. Let’s finish the interrogation.”

The two shared a kiss that was brief but said so much. Then they left the kitchen to join their host in the other room. Raeth’s tea was left on the kitchen table because he didn’t trust the Other not to poison them.

The room across the hall was a spacious living room that a normal guest would have enjoyed and probably complimented by saying something like “This place oozes with country charm!” Raeth was far from a normal guest however, so the living room set him on edge.

Like the kitchen and the hall, the living room’s walls were alabaster. Brown beams, placed at even intervals, braced the ceiling. There was a fireplace with a fire glowing within it. On the mantle above, there was a green, wood carving of a galloping staga, which Raeth found funny because whenever he had seen staga in person or on the holonet, they barely moved, let alone galloped.

Before the hearth were two fat-cushioned couches that faced each other from 5-6 feet apart. They were the same shade of green as the staga carving. As a matter of fact, the green of the couches and the carving were close to the color of Saudaji’s skin.

Between the couches was a low table with a flower vase—also green, but a different, lighter shade. An array of long-stemmed, purple-petaled flowers sprouted from the vase. There was also a small stack of books on the table. It was rare to find books nowadays, since information was usually shared via datapads and the holonet. But Raeth felt no sense of novelty from seeing actual books, for To’a, Moerangi, and others in their village kept books in their home, and Raeth got a chance to read some of them as recently as a few weeks ago.

I bet Country Raeth loves reading books. He probably sits there in front of the fire all night just reading. In Raeth’s mind, this sounded like an insult, which he realized was hypocritical because he, too, loved to read.

Frimkin happened to be sitting in front of the fire with a book in his lap when Raeth and Saudaji entered. The book was titled Fields of Abundance: A Practical Guide to Sustainable Farming. As they approached, he set the book down and then gestured at the empty couch across from him. “Please make yourselves comfortable.”

“Thanks,” Raeth replied, flatly. He did not hesitate to take a seat, but as he did, he glanced at the tall, green cabinet against the wall behind Frimkin. Hanging above the cabinet was a hunting blaster, the only obvious weapon that he had spotted so far. (Although Raeth knew that with imagination and practice, anything could become a weapon.) The rifle looked old but well-maintained, just like the farmhouse. But unlike the farm house, it also looked like it was barely used.

Raeth sank deep into the couch cushions. It was comfortable, but at the same time it felt like getting back up would be difficult. Maybe this is the first of his traps: he gets us stuck on his couch, and then he’ll strike.

“You’re looking much better already,” Tonny observed. “Was it the tea?”

“No, it wasn’t your damn tea,” Raeth snapped. Immediately realizing that was harsh for no good reason, he softened his tone for his next comment. “You have a lovely home.”

Tonny’s smile indicated he appreciated the compliment and did not take offense to the remark about his tea.

For a few beats, an awkward near-silence settled between them. The only sounds were the crackling of the fire, the rain drumming on the roof, and the distant bleating of a staga from outside. Perhaps it was complaining about the rain.

Never a fan of silence, Raeth broke it before it dragged on for long. “Do you have any idea what Prime meant when he warned you of someone meaning you harm? Who are we supposed to protect you from?”

“I’m sorry, brother, I have no clue.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Tonny raised his hands in an apologetic gesture.

Raeth sighed. “Do you have any enemies?”

Tonny shook his head. “None that I’m aware of. This may sound like I’m tooin’ my own horn, but I get along with everybody. I barely remember the last time anyone called me a bad name, and nobody’s ever threatened me.”

“Have you ever had any dealings with the Sith.”

Tonny stared at Raeth blankly. “I don’t know who that is.”

Listening to Raeth and Tonny go back and forth was like listening to an upbeat march and a slow, country ballad being played at the same time.

Exasperated, Raeth looked at Saudaji, wordlessly asking her to take over the interrogation. Meanwhile, Tonny continued to wear an innocent smile on his face while waiting for more questions.

 

[Apollo Wilde]

His arms encircling her were enough to bring her fully back to the present, to allow herself to be comforted as well as the one comforting. Like her gut instinct that managed to preserve her life, his embrace sparked a feeling of calmness, a reassurance that everything would be okay. She grasped the sides of his face, almost painfully, pressing her forehead and nose to his. She said nothing, just allowed her breath to flow over his face, feeling his breath do the same. Exhale through open lips, close enough so that their bottom lips grazed each other. Holding it, letting it out slowly, her breathing mimicking his.


She was aware of Tonnover speaking, of the sound of his footsteps growing more distant - only half mindful, but enough to keep her alert. Once she was certain he was out of earshot, she used her grasp on Raeth’s face to pull him into hers, their lips finally meeting. She kept the kiss chaste - no frenzied battle of tongues here - but deep, as if pouring her calm, the steady pulse of her heart into him, funneling it through his body. She wasn’t sure when the kiss was broken - the world came back to her in pieces, starting with the solid connection between their foreheads, the flesh pressed so thin there that it was bone connecting them, solid.


“I’m here,” whispered against his mouth, sealed there with another kiss. A rough clasp of her hand to the nape of his neck, taking the moment from intimate lovers to comrades in arms. From anyone else, it would be a step down, a distancing. From her, it was reinforcing their bond - together as husband and wife, as lovers, as friends, and as comrades in arms. “Oya, then,” a bit louder, then, reassuring to the last. She stood first, offering him her hand.









This place is too clean.


It was enough to make her internally scowl. There wasn’t even so much as a hint of dust anywhere - not even in those hard to clean nooks and crannies. It reminded her of Raeth - yet another thing to set her on edge. It would’ve been so much easier if there weren’t so many reminders, so many devils lurking in the details that further entangled her. The cleanliness of the home wasn’t offset by anything that she felt was particularly “personal” - there was no overhanging smell of home cooked meals, the stuffiness of a home well-lived in. This was as sterile as a med-bay to her, even with the odd knick knacks and flowers -


Fresh flowers, at that.


The floor didn’t groan in protest as they moved - even though Saudaji was trying to make noise. Counterintuitive, normally, but a reinforcement of the fact that, for the time being, they meant this Tonnover no harm. Still, she stepped cautiously, consciously putting herself before Raeth as they moved into the living room. Then, she subtly stepped aside, allowing for him to sit and get comfortable. She would take her time, pacing idly around the room as Raeth had, taking in small details, little things here and there to keep her mind busy as she waited for Raeth to be comfortable.


Exit’s this way. Couch can be cleared in a leap. Tools for fireplace nearby. Little things, things filtered through, pausing long enough to process new information before letting it flow through again.


Collectively, she had to admit - she hated this house. Hated the alabaster walls. The green couch (which, why this shade of green? Her hand on the couch nearly blended in), the pale green highlights that on her were lively and fresh, but mimicked here, washed out and sickly. It was a house, but not a home - no holo photos, no reminders, no indication that anyone ever came by.


So he doesn’t have enemies, but it doesn’t look like he has friends, either.


No one would miss him.

She opted to stand for a moment - not quite hovering, not quite threatening, behind Raeth, taking in the rest of the room. To Tonnover, she would appear distracted, half-interested in the conversation. Of course, that was the point - and when Raeth looked to her for help, she paced, that slow, misleading dancer’s amble, to the front of the couch. Sat directly between the two of them, facing Tonnover. The firelight reflected in her eyes, giving them a faint amber cast, warming their depths.


“You’re quick to answer questions,” same flat affect, even if her posture suggested that she was at ease, “But not to supply more information than what was asked. Humor me.” She stretched out her legs, soles of her booted feet towards the fire.


Boots are tough. Could flip flaming log towards him as distraction without risk of burning.


Tapped her toes together, the sound a dull thunk thunk as she allowed herself to be lost in the dancing flames. “Tell us about yourself, Tonnover. What are your memories? How long have you been here? What do you do?”


Since he seemed to be hellbent on only answering what she asked, she’d have to broaden her questions; see if she could get him on some hook. To further emphasize her point, she would crane her head slightly to look at him, her eyes holding his. The only light in them that of the flames - the lines of her face settled into perfect neutrality.

 

[BewareTheDream]

It was true that there were no photos in the downstairs area. However, that did not mean Tonny Frimkin was not loved.

Raeth and Saudaji passed by the stairs when they first entered the house. Raeth was in the middle of a panic attack, so he did not notice them. Perhaps Saudaji caught a glimpse of them as she helped her husband reach the kitchen. If she did, then she would have noticed that the wall beside the stairs was bare.

There was no way for anyone else to know this, but Tonny had repainted the stairs’ wall two days prior. In preparation for the paint job, he had to remove a couple dozen old-fashioned photos from the wall. Each picture he took down was treated with such reverence and care, as though their frames were made of fragile crystal and not wood, plastic, and glass.

Many of the pictures were of Tonny with his family, which was large. He had a mother, father, and five siblings, all of whom were also Human but looked nothing like him. Tonny was naturally pale, green-eyed, and brown-haired, whereas his family were all deeply tanned, brown-eyed, and black-haired. Despite the physical differences, the happiness that radiated from their smiling faces made it clear they were close.

Some photos featured Tonny alone or with people outside his family. There was a photo of him as a teen holding a trophy for growing the biggest sunmelon in a state fair; the gigantic sunmelon he grew took up much of the background. Another photo was of him as an older teen in an ill-fitting suit attending a barn dance with a pretty, young Togruta female with a bow on one of her headtails. Another showed Tonny as part of a baseball team called “the Verde Vale Vanquishers.”

None of those photos were on display now. They were neatly stacked inside a box in Tonny’s bedroom. Although presently unseen, they were a record of a life filled with joy and love.

*****

“Like I said before, miss, please call me Tonny. Everybody does.” He grinned. Tonny appeared to be older than Raeth by about ten years, but when he grinned, several years were shaved off his face.

Saudaji had just asked Tonny about his memories. “I hope this doesn’t sound rude, but that’s a strange way to phrase a question. I have so many memories, so where should I begin?” His tone made it clear it was a rhetorical question.

Pausing to think, he ran his fingers over the stubble on his face. Raeth resisted a sudden urge to mimic the motion and touch his own, clean-shaved face. I’m feeling itchy just looking at him.

Frimkin then began his life story. “I s’pose I can start by sayin’ I don’t remember anythin’ before my teenage years. My very first memory is of being cold and in a field, my face and arms getting’ scratched by grass wet with morning dew. That field was right out there, as a matter of fact.” He waggled a finger at the nearest wall, or, more accurately, at the land beyond.

“Somehow, I had been placed right here on the Frimkin farm. I didn’t have no memories, I didn’t have no name. All I had were the clothes I was wearin’ at the time, which weren’t much more than pajamas.

“The Frimkins—Siti and Barek—found me. They could’ve turned me away. They could’ve handed me off to the regional government and let the system take care of me. But instead, they took me in and made me part of their family. They introduced me to my five siblings and let me grow up in this house, which was always filled with people and warmth. They adopted me as their son for no reason other than they were good people.” For a moment, Tonny looked like he was on the verge of tears, but he sniffed them back.

“They weren’t just good people. They were the best. I am who I am because of my parents.”

“Yeah, all three of them,” Raeth interjected. He was unaffected by the Other Raeth’s emotional story. “And unlike you’re adoptive parents, your biological father isn’t ‘good people.’”

Rather than looking surprised or offended, Tonny chuckled. “Well, I don’t know Father well enough to agree or disagree with your assessment, but I do agree that I am who I am because of him, too.”

Raeth frowned, for he basically reminded himself that he, too, was who he was because of his clone daddy. It was a thought he tried to lock away in the deepest reaches of his mind, yet it always clawed its way back to the surface.

Tonny continued. “After I got over the initial shock of findin’ out I am one of Father’s clones, I became eager to find out more about him. After all, by findin’ out more about him, I should find out more about myself, right? Unfortunately, Father is pretty evasive, as I’m sure you already know. All he told me was that there are bad people huntin’ him, and that he's afraid those bad people may be comin’ after me next.

“Instead of giving me more details about his life, Father asked me about mine. Kinda like what y’all are doin’ now.”

It was Raeth’s turn to chuckle. “Think of Saudaji and me as investigators. We need all the information we can get in order to do our jobs more effectively.” Raeth was sounding more and more like himself. The moment of intimacy that he and Saudaji shared in the kitchen had cleared his head, beautifully. Bolstered by the fresh memory of his wife’s closeness, the warmth of her embrace, and the sweetness of her kiss, he was not likely to suffer from another panic attack anytime soon.

“I’ve never spoken with investigators before,” Tonny replied. “So I’ll have to take your word on that. What else do you need to know from me?”

Raeth shared a glance with Saudaji before turning back to Frimkin. “Answer the rest of Saudaji’s questions.”

“All right. I’ve lived on this farm for over twenty years. I’m a farmer and a rancher. I also do carpentry and I’m handy with my hands, but I figure most farmers need to be. That’s pretty much it.”

Frimkin glanced at a grandfather clock standing in a corner of the living room. “It’s gotten late. Would the two of you like to spend the night here? I have plenty of unused bedrooms. Since y’all are so keen on hearing about my life, and I can show you some pictures.”

Raeth’s instinct was to say ‘No,’ since the Patient Pylat was parked only a few dozen yards away; they could stay there while using the scanners and fly drones to keep an eye on Frimkin and his property. He did not say ‘No,’ though. Instead, he turned to Saudaji, who may have seen a reason to stay in the house, a reason he had missed.

“What do you think?” Raeth asked his wife.

 

[Apollo Wilde]

That damnable smile of his. So much like Raeth’s - that initial feeling that still made her catch her breath. She didn’t allow herself to look at Tonnover for longer than a second, for fear that her unease would be visible. She glanced away, as causal as ever, to return her attention to the fire.


His first few words were nearly lost in an echoing ringing in her head. Wandering through mists, she was able to pull herself back to the present. A foundling. A part of her heart recently unearthed by her time at home, throbbed. He’d been found, taken in.


Dumped is more like it, and her face twisted in the faintest of grimaces as she continued to listen to him. The idea of him turning up randomly, dripping wet, and barely clothed was all too familiar. So he got out. How? Potentially Prime - but I’ve no idea how long Prime’s been keeping tabs on this one. This one speaks of time in years, not months. Assuming that his memory is accurate after being dumped as a teenager, he’s been here for years prior to Prime contacting him. Did it take Prime that long to find him? What could’ve kept him occupied all of that time? Why now, how many more are there? Prime said that Raeth was the only one that really ‘took’ -


Another grimace, deeper now, a line briefly appearing between knit brows before vanishing as she schooled her face back into neutrality; the face of a patient listener. She’d asked, after all. And if that’s the case - assuming, again, that all of this is true - they kept Raeth in their employ. Gave him partners - again, that chill, the feeling that she’d been merely dancing on the palm of someone else all of this time. That every decision that she made hadn’t been her own. Swallowing back the bile, she forced thoughts forward. But it would be sloppy to just…dump the…


Failures. Trash?


The thought rolled her stomach so hard that she thought she’d lose what little she’d eaten. She turned away from Tonnover at that moment, standing to rest her forearm against the mantle of the fireplace. The stone was was faintly warm; bit into her partially uncovered arm with a million invisible mouths, pores in the brick. Resting her forehead against her arm, her lekku unconsciously twitched - a tell that she was having problems regulating her emotions. If Raeth had looked at her, it would’ve been a troubling sign. It would be akin to suddenly dropping a mug.


Keep it together, Saudaji. The internal voice was firm, but not unkind. You can’t afford to fall apart. Not now. You’ve got to guide him through this. A deep breath, sucked in through her flared nostrils. Biting down on her lower lip, she lifted her head. Took less than a moment to school her features, then turned to face Tonnover as he continued to speak.


…Right. It would be sloppy to get rid of the extras. But for now, we have no idea how he got here. And Prime isn’t the one to share additional information.


“…About you being here,” her words calmly slipped in between the exchange of Tonnover and Raeth, smooth as butter, “Prime didn’t happen to tell you anything about how you came about in the middle of that field, did he?” A look shot to Raeth from the corner of her eye. “…You’ve been here, a farmer, for decades, then. No problems whatsoever. Then out of the blue, Prime contacts you, tells you you’re his clone. And here we are,” she held out her hands, as if smoothing out a sheet out to dry on the line. “No more information from where we started.”


Turning to face Tonnovar, she looked as if she was going to say something else, but decided against it, her attention drawn back to Raeth as he spoke.


“I think…that spending the night here might be a good idea.”











“I’m not entirely comfortable with the idea myself,” she later admitted, stepping out of the ‘fresher. Though Tonnovar didn’t seem the type to have guests, the room that he’d loaned the two of them was as neatly made and as “homey” as the rest of the house: completely sterile, caught between wanting to be a quaint bed and breakfast and a memorial for people and times long past. The refresher was dutifully as clean as the rest of the home; the toiletries left out as untouched as the rest of the place.


She’d eye-balled them with a small amount of distaste before resigning herself to using them. Shed been in worse predicaments, but they hadn’t been as unsettling as this. What would she call herself doing, playing house? In some strange limbo between housekeeping and interrogation? In something that could be called ‘hospitality,’ Tonnovar had laid out clean night clothes for the two of them in the refresher. She’d taken one look at the white, somewhat frumpy gown, and wrinkled her nose. Held it out at arms length, watched as it bunched round her arms. Then sighed as she began to pull it on. It would’ve been rude not to.


Running the towel over her lekku, her voice was muffled for a few moments as she drew it over her face. “It seemed the best way to snoop. If I could even call it that. I honestly don’t know, Rae’ika.” No secrets between the two of them, truly, but she couldn’t admit that it was little more than a “gut feeling” that this was what they should do. Yes, putting them up in the ship would be more comfortable, but…obvious?


A heavy sigh that turned into an irritated grumble as she brought the towel down. “Might as well come clean - I’ve no idea. No clue. And that’s what pisses me off,” the last snarled through gritted teeth as she threw the towel to the floor. Now, standing in front of Raeth, seated on one of the twin beds in the room, she crossed her arms, her lekku finally laying flat against her back.


“What I said downstairs - that’s all I know. I think you’re more valuable to Prime as you are-” Again, that overwhelming rise of bile. She grunted, swallowing it back. “I…I don’t know.” She sat down heavily on the bed next to him, the worn mattress whining in protest. “I just want to forget for a little while. Is…that okay with you?” She inched closer, her hand covering his own. Green fingers laced through his.


She wouldn’t wait too much longer. There were too many unknowns; too much that stirred her stomach and kept her from finding her balance. Too much for her to try and overcome on her own, her internal battery near depleted. The well she had within herself was running dry, and she knew she had to have more, had to refill it, in order to be at her best, to help him. Leaning over, her lips touched a tender spot beneath his ear. Her left hand drifted over his chest, light dragging of her fingertips across the bare flesh. Raeth’s night clothing had consisted of little more than a pair of well-worn pajama pants; no small wonder that they fit.


The eyelet lace-trimmed strap of her gown fell from her shoulder. She didn’t try to fix it. Her lips pressed further upwards, heated skin just below his ear, before she closed her teeth against the lobe. Left hand drew wide circles across his chest, caught at his nipple. Gently squeezed. “I know…” quiet and heated, “That this might not be the best time. I do. And I worry about you. Worry about where we are, where we’re going. But…”


The grasp on his hand grew tighter as she traced the line of his ear with her tongue, slow, considerate. “I need to feel like I’m home.”


Shifting of weight on the bed as she moved to straddle his lap, as silent as if he were a target. The left shoulder of her dress joined the right, pooling down her arms, stopping from baring her chest to his gaze entirely. Leaning forward to touch her nose to his, her now free hands pushed the gown further down, letting it settle about her waist in a jumble of ruched white cloth. She smelled of the personality less soap, the old hint of sun-dried fabric that she had borrowed - he smelled much of the same, that clean scent that was strange, only made soothing in that it eased from his skin.


No wait, then: her lips found his, pressing lightly, before firmly, drinking him in deeply. For all of its restrained desperation, it wasn’t hurried, wasn’t frightened or frantic. It was reassuring her as much as it was him, tongues lazily twining round one another. Her familiar moves - the suckle to his lower lip, kiss to the tip of his nose, closed eyes and eyelashes, against the side of his mouth, all without additional sound from her. Her nipples, firm peaks of malachite, rubbed against his chest, and, without asking, she broke their kiss, easing his head lower as she arched her chest, guiding her breasts to his mouth.


Another shift, seamless between the kisses, to straddle his knee. Though the fabric of his pants wasn't the softest against the wet flesh of her cunt, it hardly made a difference. His thigh, solid, was within it, and the slightest brush against it was arousing her further. Every other thought in her head screamed at her - this isn’t the best idea, you’re in enemy territory, Tonnovar could hear -

 

[Apollo Wilde]

The thought caused a deeper flare of heat to her cheeks, between her legs. She couldn’t possibly…no. She wasn’t going to follow that line of thought. Not now. Not when Raeth felt so good and warm and right beneath her, itty bitty bed be damned; they’d make it work. A soft gasp as his blind mouth found her right nipple, a long swipe of his tongue that made her knees weak before the tenderest closing of his lips against the nub. He suckled gently, one hand at the small of her back, holding her closer to her, the other stroking down her lekku, a touch so faint that it could be scarcely imagined. His delicacy, honed by their time together on Mandalore, added such a depth to their love-making that it made her faintly dizzy every time he did it. She couldn’t fully describe it, nothing short of, “it feels good,” but those words were such fluff in comparison to how it actually felt. Like sharing a mental connection, like he was talking to her without words, pouring himself deep into her, winding her about his hands and pulling her in so deeply that there would be no separating them. Surprisingly enough, once he’d learned…he hadn’t instantly wanted to run tests, to ‘experiment’ to see what worked. It seemed to be something born solely out of the intimacy, of the fact that they’d opened their hearts fully to one another.


Once, twice; his hand flowed down her lekku, to the plane of her shoulders, the groove that split her back, his other hand still cradling her close, as if she were porcelain, his mouth moving from the right nipple to the left, unhurried, seeking comfort from her body as much as his hand over her lekku, her hands in his thick hair, running from crown to nape, her nails scraping against the flesh as she cradled him, and let the rest of the world fall away.

 

[BewareTheDream]

Frimkin’s sob story about being abandoned in a field reminded Raeth of his own story. More accurately, it reminded him of the fake childhood memories that had been implanted in his brain.

Like Frimkin, Raeth used to think his unknown parents had left him on a backwoods planet and then fragged off, never to see their son again. Unlike Frimkin, Raeth did not have fond memories of his adoptive family. Instead, he had memories of unimaginative, unambitious peat farmers who expected him to be content with a life of living in a bog.

Not living. More like withering. Withering in a bog like all that peat I had to gather.

In his mind, Raeth laughed. Even though he now knew all his childhood memories were fabrications, the resentment he felt for his fictional parents was real. He laughed at how ridiculous it was, but then his mood soured when he thought about how Frimkin’s memories were of a family that loved him, whereas his own memories were of the stink of peatlands and the ever-present urge to escape it and fly to anywhere else.

At least one of us got to grow up with a family they could stand.

Raeth was seated on an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room in an unfamiliar house. He was naked except for a pair of thin, striped pajama pants whose color had faded from countless washings. He had to admit they were quite comfortable, as though he had worn them for years.

In a way, I have.

The sound of running water attracted Raeth’s attention; his eyes were drawn to the refresher connected to the bedroom. He didn’t have a clear view of her from this angle, but he saw enough to make him smile. There was a glimpse of a green elbow here, a flash of a lekku there. Saudaji was not humming, but Raeth suddenly had a flashback to a scene similar to this: in the home they built for themselves on Te Ika, he once listened to Saudaji humming while she performed her nightly ‘fresher routine. He loved listening to her hum or sing, and tonight he imagined the sound.

“So beautiful…” he whispered too softly for her to hear. At that moment, he realized that although he hadn’t grown up with a loving family, he had found one later in life. The resentment he could feel building like a pressure in his chest was abruptly deflated, and it was replaced by the feeling of a full heart—a sensation he had never known until Saudaji showed him.

From the ‘fresher, Saudaji spoke of snooping. Raeth was about to say, “Yeah, that’s what I’m doing now,” but he held his tongue, for even though the bedroom door was closed, he didn’t know how thick the walls were. Not only that, but if Frimkin thought like he did, then he would have bugged every room in his house.

I eyeballed the room and scanned it, too, but found nothing. But perhaps he’s so damn good his bugs can’t be easily detected.

Raeth was doing some snooping of his own. With datapad in hand, he opened the intel he had collected about the Frimkin family before the Patient Pylat had even entered Tanaab’s atmosphere. The farmhouse’s lease history showed that the property was now in Tonnover Frimkin’s name. Shortly before that, it was owned by Dewi Frimkin, who Raeth now knew was Tonny’s eldest sister. And for many years before that the lease had two names on it: Siti and Barek Frimkin, Tonny’s parents. So far, Tonny’s story checked out.

Raeth also scoured the holonet for other information about the Frimkins. Their names popped up in miscellaneous records and the occasional local news article, for the family were a well-known pillar of this community. There were even some holonet videos of the Frimkins at different fairs and other regional events. That, too, checked out.

It was possible that all this data could have been fabricated, but at the moment, Raeth saw no signs that it was. Until he found evidence of the contrary, he believed that Tonnover’s memories were real: he really did grow up surrounded by Frimkins.

Saudaji existed the refresher to stand in front of Raeth. He looked up at her and gasped, for she looked like a fantasy. Her gorgeous green skin was accentuated by the white of the nightgown she wore. A country nightgown.

A thought exploded in his brain: in the past, when Saudaji had roleplayed as the sexy country bumpkin, Lula-Lee, she typically wore a flannel shirt that was tied up to expose her midriff, illicitly short denim shorts, and cowboy boots. But it never occurred to Raeth to ask “Lula-Lee” to wear a country nightgown like the one she now wore. This was an element to his fantasy that he didn’t know he had been missing.

The datapad in his hand was dropped on the nightstand at the same time that the towel in Saudaji’s hand fell to the floor. Raeth watched her pretty lekku sway before they settled. He was feeling flush, and the front of his pajama pants were beginning to rise. Saudaji took a seat beside him, jostling the small mattress. She spoke of forgetting about their investigation for a while, not realizing that it was already the furthest thing from Raeth’s mind.

“Okay,” was all he said before he gulped.

When Saudaji inched closer and took his hand, she could immediately tell that he was shaking. The two of them had made loved so often, they had explored each other’s bodies so thoroughly, and yet he was still affected, profoundly, by her touch and her nearness.

Raising the hand whose fingers were intertwined with his, he kissed her knuckles. Gently, he unfurled a couple of her fingers and kissed their calloused tips. The tip of his tongue touched her fingertips, feather light. His eyes met hers, and in his gaze Saudaji could see he was drowning and he needed her to save him. He needed her, desperately.

Green lips touched a sensitive spot beneath his ear, and in response he shivered more intensely. Shuddering gasps flowed freely from his open mouth while the Twi’lek huntress devastated his senses with her mouth on his ear and her hand on his naked chest.

When Saudaji and Raeth had first become lovers, he had the physique of a classic rockstar: he was lean, wiry, and pale. But after many months of training with his wife and the Mandalorians of their village, his body was now tan and filled out. His pecs now felt like rocks as they flexed in reaction to her caress. He had a hint of abs before, but now they were clearly defined; the grooves between each abdominal muscle deepened as he shuddered. For the first time in his life, he had bulging biceps and sinewy, veiny forearms. He wrapped his powerful arms around Saudaji’s body whenever he could.

Saudaji straddled his lap moving as silently as a jungle cat. Immediately she could feel how rigid his penis was under her, how ready and desperate he was to be inside her. The only sounds he could hear at the moment were his moans and his gasps, as well as the rush of blood in his ears. His heart was thumping so hard he imagined hearing each concussive beat.

The touch of his wife’s nose to his reminded him he needed to control himself. Eyes closed, head bowed, forehead and nose touching hers, he forced himself to calm down. He told himself to go through his breathing exercises. He attempted to will his heart into slowing. But then Saudaji tugged her nightgown down and revealed her breasts to him. His body ignited, his heart went wild, and his breath whooshed from his lungs. She was perfect. Even the starburst scar on her chest did nothing to diminish how perfect she was in his eyes.

He was in awe of her. He always was.

 

[BewareTheDream]

“Oh gods, Cyare. You’re so beautiful, I can’t stand it…” Raeth was about start kissing and sucking her tits, but she stopped him by capturing his mouth with hers. Moaning and shuddering all over again, he got lost in her kiss. Powerful arms surrounded her torso, and he clung to her while they kissed.

Without saying a word, Saudaji told Raeth that she wanted them to love each other gently, and that’s what he did. Although his mind and his heart were racing, he kept his actions soft and slow. Their tongues slow danced rather than wrestled. His lips cherished hers. Pouring moans down her throat, he resisted the urge to grasp her ass. Not now, not yet. Instead, he ran his hands up and down her muscular back. His knuckles and the back of his hands brushed her dangling lekku nice and soft.

She was the one to break the kiss. When she did, Raeth opened his eyes and gave her a dazed, happy smile. The only sentient being to ever see him in this state was her. Before he could lean in for another kiss, his wife once again told him what she wanted with silent guidance. One of her hands was at the back of his neck, easing his head down; at the same time, she arched her back, offering her tits to him. Raeth happily accepted.

Eyes now closed, he did not need to see, for he let touch and instinct lead the way. First, he buried his face in her substantial bosom. She has the most magnificent breasts I have ever laid eyes on, he thought to himself as he nuzzled his face between them. Raising his head just a little, he pressed a reverent kiss to her starburst scar, as though he was trying to wash away the pain of her past with his love.

After that, he started to lick and suck on her breasts. His tongue drew a blazing trail down one of her slopes to her stiff nipple. He kissed the tit before wrapping his lips around it and sucking, oh so gently. Suckling soft but long, he kept it up until he ran out of breath. Gasping for air, he used this opportunity to tickle her tit with his tongue. He flicked it up and down, left and right. Taking his sweet time, he drew glistening circles around her malachite areola, each new circle overlapping the last.

Eventually, blindly, his mouth traveled to her other breast. He covered that one with his kisses, moaning as he did so. Before too long, his lips found her other tit, and he suckled on that, too. His lips tugged on it; they pinched it. When he wasn’t sucking on her nipple, he used his tongue to stimulate it. He kissed it, too.

One of his palms pressed against the small of her back, holding her to him. The other hand cherished her lekku. Figuring out how to properly touch Saudaji’s head-tails was a mystery that Raeth spent much time trying to unravel. Finally, after so much loving, he figured it out, and ever since then it felt so natural that he wondered what took him so damn long.

What he needed to do was let his love for Saudaji guide his touch. He had to listen to his heart, not his brain. His heart reminded him to always be gentle—oh so gentle—with her lekku. His heart also told him that she preferred downward strokes, so he ran his palms, fingertips, or the backs of his fingers down her dangling head-tails repeatedly, carefully. At times, his caress was so soft she could barely feel it. When she did feel it, it felt right. Finally, it felt right.

Saudaji had straddled one of Raeth’s thighs and was starting to rub herself against it. Her honey was seeping through the thin fabric of his pajama pants, reminding him that she had no panties on. Not only was she wet for him, she also felt so hot. Knowing she was hot and wet for him inspired him to continue his delicate oral loving of her tits as well as the delicate caresses to her lekku and back.

Little did Raeth realize that for a moment, Saudaji thought of someone other than him.

The husband worshipped his wife’s body for so long. It got to the point where every inch of her wonderful breasts glistened with his saliva. Eventually, though, his phallus refused to be ignored any longer. It raged against his restraint, it raged against the pajama pants he wore, and it demanded relief.

Throughout their foreplay, Raeth and Saudaji did not say anything to each other. The sounds they exchanged were erotic outcries, not words. Now, though, he had something to say.

“I need to be inside you. Please, Cyare…please!” Shaking, he fumbled with his pants. Saudaji would have to stand for a moment to let him push them off. The moment the waistband withdrew far enough, his dick sprang free, at last. Veiny and pulsating, it looked angry, hungry, and desperate at the same time.

Raeth’s ability to restrain himself was now gone. Flinging his hands to Saudaji’s waist, he guided her back to his lap and pulled her down onto his pole. His whole body spasmed and every muscle visible on his tan torso flexed when her hot cunt kissed his cock’s head.

“Ungh! Oh! I almost came! Hungh…hungh…” The fat head of his phallus had just started to open her labia, and already he was close to cumming.

Whether through teamwork, gravity, or a combination of the two, Saudaji got impaled by Raeth’s cock. Down and down she went until she was seated on his balls. Up and up he went until every single veiny inch spread her lovely, pink pussy wide. He felt as big as he had ever been. He felt as hot as he had ever been. He fit inside her, perfectly.

Raeth hooked his arms underneath Saudaji’s armpits, grasped her shoulders, and yanked her down as though he were trying to get them as physically close, as physically bonded as possible. “Gungh!” He rocked and rolled his pelvis beneath her. She was in the dominant position, and he used his body to beg her to fuck him like only she could.

He would not last long. Saudaji felt too wonderful, and he needed her too badly to hold back. Clinging to her as though his life depended on it, he would soon erupt within and fill her with not only his tumescent flesh, but his seed as well. He began to scream when he came, but the outburst got muffled when he grasped the back of her neck and dragged head down for a kiss. Instead of yowling at the ceiling of someone else’s house, he directed that yowl down her throat.

In the end, after Saudaji had drained his balls completely, Raeth would be transformed into a puddle of sweat and flesh. The concoction of their cum poured all over his ball sack and thighs. Unable to sit up any longer, he collapsed backward on the bed that was barely big enough for the two of them. His pajama pants were bundled around his ankles while Saudaji’s country nightgown was bundled around her midsection. The could cuddle all wet and sticky on someone else’s bed tonight.

Eventually, Raeth started to crack up. Saudaji and her love made him giddy.

*****

Down the hall, Tonny lay in bed wide awake and bothered. The walls of the house were not that thin, but Saudaji and Raeth were quite loud. He didn't hear everything, but he heard plenty.

He was erect. In the darkness of his bedroom, he struggled with the thought of masturbating. It felt wrong for reasons he could not identify.

Soon after Saudaji and Raeth stopped screaming, Tonny gave in to his base urges, pushed down his pajama pants, and started to stroke himself.

 

[Apollo Wilde]

His “okay” had sounded so fragile; so small. Like she could cradle it in the palms of her hand. She felt him tremble against her, and her heart felt it was pulled open by that much more. In these fleeting moments, she could engulf all of him, keep him from being further hurt. Erase the wounds that had been carved into him thus far, and replace them with something positive. Little did she know that by doing this for him, she was doing the same for herself; opening up each time on a level unknown to her, inviting him deeper and deeper in. When her lips weren’t covering his, her fingertips ran across them, tracing them, memorizing them.

In their time together, she knew it’d be an exercise in futility to try and keep him quiet - that just wasn't the way he was. Though a part of her brain nagged at her that she should keep the noise down, the other part of her completely disregarded it. Raeth’s cries were primal; a way of him exorcising whatever demons she couldn’t see. If he needed to howl at the moon to feel better, well, she’d be there right along side him, doing her best.

And she could feel it now, that desperation, the fear, in the clench of his powerful arms. He’d always clung to her - that much wasn’t new - but the strength in which he did so now was. It was enough to drive the breath from her. Not that she minded. She knew she was strong enough to bear this - to find comfort in it. In such a position, it was difficult for her to return in kind, and in the corners of her mind she hoped that he could feel her reaching out for him just as strongly.

“I love you,” whispered against his lips, caught between their bodies. She rarely spoke it in Basic; it felt strange, blowing up a balloon with words only for it to float away. Whatever ghost that slipped within her now eased the words from her mouth, surprising even her. As the words settled between them, she only had a moment to weigh them, to realize that they felt right, even in her second (or was it third?) language.

His tongue was still able to knock conscious thought from her. Now it was her time to tremble as he lavished her breasts with affection, to arch her back further into his mouth when he suckled, to ease on her grinding of his leg as he drew her scar. Though it was long healed, it throbbed beneath the ministrations of his tongue; perhaps a combination of the pulsing of her heart or the heat that rose from her skin.

Inside. He said he wanted to be inside. How to explain to him that he already was? A smart ass comment tucked itself in the corner of her mouth, causing her to smirk ever so slightly. Not out of cruelty, but of amusement: he’d rubbed off on her in more ways than one. Still, as he fumbled between their bodies, and she could feel the stiffness of him, whatever comment she could’ve come up with didn’t seem so important. He was as hot as she was; so smooth and slick. Many times had she been between his legs, dragging her tongue over him, marveling at the contradictions there: how soft the flesh, how firm, the smell, the shape.

Waiting made them both a bit clumsy. Perhaps it would be something that they never grew out of, those moments of frantic energy to remove whatever last barriers were between them. She easily slipped from his leg, leaving behind a noticeable wet spot, before she was surrounded by him, and impaled in one sharp movement. Though she’d done her best to keep some modicum of quiet, it was all lost. A high yelp, her face flushing that strange combination of brick red and green, a Twi’lek’s blush. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she buried her face in the soft spot where shoulder met throat. Her legs were shaking now, barely able to hold her up. Her sex quivered around him, squeezing, releasing further arousal. Though it felt, through the haze, that he’d bottomed out within her, the insistent grinding of his pelvis sent more of him into her, until sparks flashed behind her half-closed lids. He was touching so deep inside of her, it felt that the lines between their bodies were erased. Pain from the depths, pleasure from being joined - all braided together as she shifted. There would be no rising and falling on him, instead, they ground together, her hips rocking back into the the thrusting of his pelvis, a smooth gliding back and forth that didn’t have the same tell-tale slapping of flesh, but was no less pleasurable. In fact, with this grind, she was better able to rub the firm nub of her clit against his hips, each moment back into each other dragging small sighs from her.

Raeth set the pace; she rode him as his body commanded. Her grasp around him was tenuous; her face buried in the crook of his neck, her arms sliding around his neck as she moved. She tried her best to cling to him, to get a leg around him for further purchase. It didn’t work. It wasn’t until she was able to straddle him again, to brace her legs on the outside of his own that she couldn’t help the deep, guttural moan that burst from her. The smallest shift of his hips against her was stroking that spot inside her, the one that made her shake, that made her cunt flow like a river.

Swears, his name, random bits of Mando’a left her as they continued to grind against one another, more frantic, chasing the high of orgasm. As it grew closer, the words from her grew in their filth, a strange counterpoint to the previous sweetness of their coupling. He felt so good, filled her completely, like her cunt was made for him, be loud, let the world hear it, let the world know that he was pleasing her like no other, that she was doing the same for him, that her cunt was made for his cock and his cock was hers, all hers, to fill her until she overflowed -

A duet of howls into the echo chamber of opposite mouths, her body snapping taunt, arching back against him as she came, the force of her orgasm nearly forcing him from her, despite how deeply he was buried, the shriek of joy leaking from the corners of her mouth.

She wasn’t sure when they’d managed to untangle themselves - her on her back, legs splayed wide. She felt his cum lazily oozing from her, the aftershock quivering of her cunt reflexively clenching around nothing, feeling achingly empty. Raeth’s laughter was infectious - and without knowing fully why, she was chuckling alongside him before long.

“….Do you remember,” tongue caressed parched lips, “that one night in Kutsu? We were on Raxus Secundus, out in the Outer Rim. Beautiful place. But you’d just bought that vibrating strap on, and couldn’t wait to use it. Even though I said it was going to be a bad idea.” She mustered the energy to turn on her side to watch him, feeling the remnants of him shift with her before continuing to leak out of her. There certainly would be a mess in the morning. “It was that itty bitty little time share cabin. Out in the middle of nowhere, on that lake. We thought that there wasn’t going to be anyone around.” A bitten off chuckle. Turns out that was far from the case - and due to some administrative fluke (certainly not on Raeth’s part), they had a cabin in the middle of nowhere, all right - but somehow in the midst of a corporate retreat. The promised "solitary splendor!" turned out to be one cabin that was about 20 feet away from a collection of wider, longer cabins: cabins that wouldn't have been out of place in a camping ground.

At the time, she hadn't thought that it was going to be that bad - it was supposed to be a mid-way point between the next mission. Not quite a break, but not quite work. She'd finally gotten to compromise with Raeth about that damn toy, and there was this. Somewhere along the line, she decided to give into those petty feelings and throw caution to the wind. Raeth was more than delighted to join in. Maybe some of that petty aggression had come out during their sex play: Raeth had configured the toy to sit right above his actual cock so double-penetration was possible. That's how she ended up with rug burn on the side of her face and knees; Raeth had taken his time doing his best to almost literally plow her into the floor of the cabin. To his credit, he was very sweet about applying bacta to the worst of the burns on her cheek and picking splinters out of her hands. Not that she'd felt it at the time; she'd been too busy drooling with his, "Take it, you filthy slut," snarled with quiet menace in her ear. "You're going to cum like the whore you are on my cock, and then you're going to suck it clean. Aren't you?"

She hadn't thought he had it in him.

“Half of those beings wanted to strangle us, and I think the other half wanted to join us,” she was chuckling a little louder now, wiping the corners of her eyes. The next morning, the pair had finally decided to face daylight and walked into the middle of a team building exercise that was clearly well underway. They could've heard a pin drop. She certainly caught whispers of, "It's them," "By the Maker," "...Do either one of them have a voice?"

 

[Apollo Wilde]

She didn’t know that Talz could blush until that day.

“You took your time proving to me that the strap on was, yes, a very good idea and worth every credit. Double-sided, mimicked the wearer’s body heat, even had a button for dual ejaculation. Very good toy, that.” She wiggled her toes for no other reason than she could. She'd taken the toy in three holes, in-between lavishing his erection with love via her tongue, hands, and breasts - then, much to her surprise, she got to use it on him. She was too careful to lose herself in dirty talk as he had before, but, even beneath her, he surprised her with the smut that came from his mouth. "You like watching me like this? I know you do. Like watching me beg for it? When you get me off, I'm going to make you scream. Did you know that? I'm sure you do. You know it's just a matter of time before I've got you folded underneath me, pounding that tight cunt wide open. Ah, fuck...Daji, gods, right there..."

Clearing her throat, she stretched her legs out, trying to focus on their current discussion.

“I don’t think we’ve been very good houseguests for Tonnover.” There was a hint of wickedness in her smile as she reached out to draw a long looping heart in the center of his chest, continuing with an invisible flourish near his navel. It was the first time that she’d outwardly admitted to being perhaps just this side of embarrassed. They weren’t quiet people - though she had honestly tried. For a little while, at least. “We come barreling in, two very deadly people, who are otherwise completely silent, but the moment we’re in bed together, we make enough noise to wake the dead 3 parsecs away.” Silly little spirals around his navel now, tiptoeing through the fine trail of hair that started beneath it. Their lovemaking had done well to reassure her, enough to the point where she could somewhat joke. “I think I should be embarrassed,” she looked up at him, the plush lines of her mouth crumbling as she tried to hold back a gleeful expression, “But I’m really sort of not. Does that make me a horrible person?” Tilting her head down, she didn’t wait for an answer before she blew a loud raspberry against his navel.

 

[BewareTheDream]

Of course Raeth knew that Saudaji loved him. There was no other knowledge contained within the storage servers of his mind that made him happy like the certainty of her love for him and his love for her. Yet despite that knowledge, hearing the Twi’lek huntress say the words in Basic was a surprise. Those three words were among the sweetest he had ever heard. A gasp born from a mix of pleasure and shock burst from his lungs, and he pulled back to see her face.

“I love you, too…Oh, my Cyare…Ohh…” Their mouths found each other once more, and they expressed their love through desperate coupling. They were united in more ways than one, and yet he clung to her, ground into her as though he were trying to get closer still. In that precious moment, he forgot all the things that were tormenting him. Wrapped in the heat of Saudaji’s body and love, he forgot everything except how good and how whole she made him feel.

The euphoria must have made him black out at some point. Practically wheezing, he opened his eyes and found himself lying on the mattress, staring at an off-white ceiling that was partially lit by the light of the refresher. A thin layer of sweat covered his toned body, and when he tried to move his legs he discovered the loaned pajama bottoms were still wrapped around his ankles. He felt Saudaji’s cream sticking to his shaft and his ball sack. Residual pleasure hummed through his nerves, which always happened after he and Saudaji made love. The combination of that pleasure and the image of him with his clone brother’s PJ bottoms around his ankles were what made him feel giddy and what caused him to crack up.

The musical sound of Saudaji’s laughter made him turn his head and make eye contact with her. His grin was tired but beaming. He was about to say something, but before he could his Twi’lek love began to reminisce about their time in a tiny cabin. As though he were loading up a video, he replayed those events in his head, and marveled at how responsive Saudaji was to the roughness of the fucking, the double-penetration, and the dirty talk. Because he cherished her, he almost always held back, even when they did things like establish safe words (he had chosen “The Aduba System” for his words) and experiment with BDSM. But that day in the cabin, he had gone all in with her, and she seemed to love it.

Another thing he remembered was how sore his asshole was when that mini-vacation was over. It’s not that Saudaji was excessively rough with him in return; there was no one whose sense of control he trusted more than hers. But it had been a while since he welcomed her in through his back door, and that fancy strap-on was on the larger side. But as sore as he was when they left, the pleasure she gave him on the floor of that cabin made it all worthwhile.

The memory made him shudder, then Saudaji’s retelling of how they interrupted a corporate retreat made him laugh. “You know, I looked that company up after we took off. Blue Sun Services, they’re called. They’re a logistics company that’s been around for over 40 years, but started to blow up only recently. I looked into their financials, was impressed, and even bought some stock in their company.

“It was the least I could do after freaking so many of them out with the noise we made. I couldn’t help but be loud because you were servicing my sun so well.”

It occurred to him, then, that he had made a lot of noise again tonight, in a bedroom that, by the looks of it, used to belong to one of Tonnover Frimkin’s sisters. Whenever he and Saudaji made love, they were usually so loud, and they must have freaked Frimkin out like they had freaked out the Blue Sun Services staff. In his head, Raeth shrugged.

He shuddered once again, this time because his wife caressed his chest. The skin she touched was a little sticky with sweat, and it warmed to her touch right away. Saudaji’s next words confirmed that she was thinking the same thing he was: that they were not good guests. She then asked him if she was a horrible person. Before he could answer, though, she planted her thick lips to his belly button and blew a raspberry, which tore more laughter from him.

“Hah! What the hell are you doing?!” He put his hands on her head, but he made no attempts to push her away. Instead, he curled up and cracked up. His cock, which had been flaccid at the time, twitched not far from Saudaji’s beautiful face.

Before long, the wife and husband took turns tickling each other, laughing the whole while. Raeth used those talented fingers of his to tickle her armpits, her sides, and her tummy. He tried to return the favor by blowing a raspberry on Saudaji’s navel, but she wrestled him away. They then transitioned to wrestling atop a bed that wasn’t theirs. Sheets that they had already stained with the juices of their love were now messed up by their roughhousing.

Raeth ended up on top of Saudaji, straddling her tummy. Their tussling had reawakened his cock, which now prodded the undersides of two magnificent breasts. His laughter died down, but he stilled grinned at her. Eyes on her face, an idea of a different game suddenly entered his mind…

Raeth’s speech was much different than Tonny’s. Their accents, the cadence of their words, and several other patterns were as different as could be. But despite those differences in speech, their underlying voices were the same. Raeth wondered what would happen if he adopted an agriworld accent, slowed his speech down, and tried some phrasing that he imagined Tonny would use. He also wondered how Saudaji would respond if he roleplayed as Tonny.

He was about to find out.

Pinning Saudaji to the bed, his muscular thighs on either side of her, he began to slide his cock between her breasts. His whole shaft was still sticky with the juices of their love, yet it had no problem sliding back and forth between her swells. If there were more light than what was shining through the ‘fresher door, then his cockhead would have glistened as it inched toward Saudaji’s face. He moved it so close that he could feel her breath upon it; the sensation made him shiver.

“It looks like you’ve gotten yourself into quite the predicament, friend.” Raeth spoke like Tonny. It wasn’t exactly right—his drawl wasn’t slow enough. But for a first try, it was really damn good. “Lyin’ here, with another man’s cock between your tits. Do you wanna kiss it? Do you wanna clean it with your tongue? Do you want me to shove it past those luscious lips of yours so you can suck it? Don’t answer that…I already know you do, you shameless slut.

“What would your husband think if he knew what you were doin’ behind his back?”

Raeth continued to rub his cock between her tits. The more he did this, the more swelled. He was already breathing heavily and moaning, but if Saudaji squeezed her tits together, it would feel so much better. His cocktip was so close to her face now. It stroked the front of her throat, and on more than a few occasions it bumped her chin.

His left hand was over Saudaji’s right wrist. As strong as he was, he knew Saudaji could break free if she wanted to. The question was, would she want to?

With his right hand, he reached behind him to grasp his wife’s cunt. He proceeded to massage it, roughly. Eventually, he dipped his middle finger’s tip between her sex lips and then used the moisture he collected to slicken her clit as he flicked it and played with it.

“Oh me oh my! Look at how wet and sticky you are!” Raeth drawled, delightedly. “You filthy, cheatin’ whore. Go ahead and suck my cock, then I’ll promise not to tell your husband.”

*****

Raeth didn’t notice, but the sound of soft music and ambient ocean sounds now played from Tonny’s room. Their host was trying to drown out his guests’ sexual shenanigans with the sort of music and sounds people bought at coffee shops.

 

[Apollo Wilde]

The nightgown was still bunched around her waist; the world’s most awkward and unflattering belt. In their tussling, it worked lower and lower till it hung around an ankle, before being finally kicked off on the floor. Not that she paid that much attention; she was too busy putting up a rapidly failing defense against Raeth’s “attack.” It wasn’t so much that she was ticklish - save for the bottoms of her feet -, but the opportunity to tussle with him was always welcome. Since their time on Mandalore and Raeth’s subsequent exposure to the rougher aspects of her life, he seemed to understand that her rough housing wasn’t unchecked aggression. If anything, it was an outpouring of her affection for him that she would put herself in his ‘clutches’, to show her belly (literally and figuratively), to learn new things about his body.

If she’d worried about the noise they made earlier, she showed no sign of the same concern now, though Tonny would have to have been practically deaf not to hear their screeches of laughter and the rumpling of sheets.

And the occasional, not so light thud of bodies being flipped from top to bottom. It sounded worse than it really was: the mattress groaned more beneath the shift of weight more than it had under their earlier activity, and more than once Saudaji would bring them to a stop with comically wide eyes, waiting perfectly still to see if the bed made any further signs of giving up. Once she was reassured that no, the bed and the old frame were still intact, she’d be on Raeth again.

For a little bit, anyway - for now she was the one unceremoniously flipped onto her back, her breath leaving her in a huffed laugh, and she wriggled with all of the fight of someone who didn’t truly want to win.

“Well, well, well - the strill pup has grown,” she grinned toothily back up at him. There was no question that she could easily break his hold, but from the lowering of those lids and the slight smirk on her full mouth, she was making it quite clear that she wasn’t in a hurry to be anywhere else. Only the faintest flicker of her eyes downwards to the dimly shining head of his cock near her breasts indicated that she was quite interested. Of course, the running of her tongue along her lower lip would give her away.

And he spoke.

He could feel her stiffen - a visceral shock as her expression instantly went from coy to utterly confused. Perhaps a bit fearful - what sort of line was just crossed? Raeth’s erection hadn’t flagged in the slightest, even as he continued speaking. Her mind was a complete blank. How should she react? Was he doing this on purpose? Of course he was doing it on purpose - she’d never known Raeth not to be in precise control. Well, maybe a few other times, but those were completely out of the ordinary and what and why was he doing this and why on this green planet was she finding it arousing?

She knew, somewhere, that she should feel guilty. That she should call all of it off, that they needed to talk about this.

But on the other hand, if this helped him work through trauma, who was she to question it? There’d be plenty of time to talk about it later. He certainly was going all in - maybe she’d do more damage if she did something to break the illusion.

Her free left hand moved up to press against her left breast, sandwiching Raeth’s cock between her breasts. Not as nicely as if she had both hands free, of course, but enough to give him some resistance. As he continued to thrust, she said nothing, other than small sounds of disapproval as no amount of head craning and sticking her tongue out were enough to get his head closer to her mouth.

Should I say anything?

What could I even say?

“Mmm…” and she did something incredibly uncharacteristic.

She pouted.

“…You’re not being fair,” her voice a breathless whine, ending on a tail of a moan as she arched her hips up into his hand. His fingers, slick with her, rubbed just past her clit.

That di’kut. He’s doing it on purpose.

“…Bring it here so I can,” she sighed, the last coming out a bit muffled as she stuck her tongue out. “Not like you don’t like this,” groaned as she arched again, raising her lithe back from the mattress, “Fucking another man’s wife, that is,” and she seemed to control herself enough to smirk up at him, that left hand of hers pressing her breasts tighter around his cock. “I saw the way you looked at me. This ‘friend’ act doesn’t fly with me.” Voice dropped to a low whisper, “I know when a man wants to be balls deep in me. When he wants to make me scream. Did you think I wouldn’t be able to tell? You want it. For all of this farm living, you’ve never had something like this. Have you? Poor little boy Tonny - bring your cock here; I’ll kiss it better.”