Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/11697018.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Star_Wars:_The_Clone_Wars_(2008)_-_All_Media_Types
  Relationship:
      CT-7567_|_Rex/Ahsoka_Tano
  Character:
      Ahsoka_Tano, CT-7567_|_Rex, Anakin_Skywalker_|_Darth_Vader, Nuvo_Vindi
  Additional Tags:
      Sex_Pollen, Fuck_Or_Die, Dubious_Consent, Military_Fraternization,
      Unethical_medical_experimentation_and_the_fallout_therewith, What_happens
      on_Geonosis_stays_on_Geonosis, Dead_Dove:_Do_Not_Eat, In_which_kaa
      continues_to_name_Star_Wars_fics_after_Star_Trek_episodes_because_why_the
      eff_not, (Bee_tee_dubs:_there_is_a_happy_ending)
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-08-03 Words: 19127
****** Amok Time ******
by kaasknot
Summary
     "Dr. Nuvo Vindi escaped Republic custody almost two years ago,
     following the Blue Shadow Virus incident. Recent intelligence has
     indicated that he is hiding on Geonosis. It is the duty of the 501st,
     being the nearest unit at hand, to recover Dr. Vindi before he can
     resume his work."
     It's a good plan. But no plan survives contact with the enemy.
Notes
     Lol this is unbetaed, y'all get to read it in all its unwashed glory
See the end of the work for more notes
The mission was straightforward.
Dr. Nuvo Vindi had escaped Republic custody almost two years ago, following the
Blue Shadow Virus incident; recent intelligence had indicated that he was
hiding on Geonosis. It was the duty of the 501st, being the nearest unit at
hand, to recover Dr. Vindi before he could resume his work. A commando squad
had located the hive in which the good doctor had taken refuge, but had gone
MIA before they could be extracted.
“I won’t lie,” General Skywalker said to his amassed ground troops, Ahsoka and
Rex flanking him as he stood in the shadow of a LAAT/i. “This will be an ugly
fight.”
“Pretty sure ‘Geonosis’ is another word for ‘ugly,’ sir,” a voice called out,
to general laughter.
Anakin gave a small smile. “Pretty sure you’re right, Rook. This mission’s
gonna be uglier than most.” He touched Artoo’s dome, and the R2 unit projected
a schematic of the hive for all 200 soldiers to see. “It’s going to be a two
part assault. I will lead two platoons along this aqueduct to capture Vindi;
Commander Tano and Captain Rex will lead the other two platoons through these
exhaust vents to locate the missing commando team. Extraction is here, below
this ridge, at no later than 1300 hours.”
“We’ll have to assume the hive is boobytrapped,” Ahsoka said. She stood serene
at her master’s shoulder, her hands clasped behind her back. “Vindi is a
brilliant biochemist, and he has no compunction using his concoctions against
living targets. That means a high potential for chemical and biological agents.
All of you have independent air supplies in your helmets; use them. I don’t
want to have to visit any of you in the medbay for catching a faceful of kachin
gas. That would make me sad, and that makes General Skywalker grumpy.”
More laughter.
Rex stepped forward. “You heard the Commander,” he ordered. “Buckets on! We
ship out in five minutes. Company: dismissed!”
The chaos of muster filled the cargo bay. Anakin, Rex, and Ahsoka directed
where they were needed and steered clear where they weren’t. “Look out for her,
Rex,” Anakin said. Ahsoka rolled her eyes, but Rex nodded in absolute
seriousness, his face hidden behind his helmet.
“Yes, sir.”
They parted ways and went to their respective gunships. Engines whined, cycling
up; ground crew pulled away as the pilots finished their final checks. The last
straggling troopers boarded. Cargo doors slid shut.
Anakin’s LAAT/i led the way, Oddball at the helm. Ahsoka held tight to the
handhold as hers rose a heartbeat later. Comms chatter crescendoed as flight
control directed their egress into the vacuum of space.
It was uncharacteristically silent as they left the safety of the Resolute.
Most ops, the clones would crack jokes to diffuse the tension; none spoke, now.
Geonosis was becoming something of a bad luck charm. Every campaign took its
toll in sweat, blood, and tears. Ahsoka tasted the emotions spilling through
the Force and did her best to soothe the anger and fear that spoiled her
troops’ calm. All soldiers were afraid before a battle. It was a natural threat
response. Ahsoka had learned that the Jedi were more than a little myopic about
a person’s ability to deny fear; the war had taught her, her soldiers had
taught her, that fear could not--and often should not--be ignored. It was the
emotional equivalent of a full bladder: ignoring it wouldn’t solve the problem.
Her troops were very full of fear. The mission may have been straightforward,
but Geonosis had a way of making things go pear-shaped.
“Hey, Rex,” she said, pitching her voice to carry. “Bet you we can find the
commandos before Anakin finds Vindi.”
Beside her, Kix snorted. “Good thing you’re not on helmet comms, Commander,” he
said.
“It’ll do Fives good to get taken down a peg,” Rex said, a seeming picture of
calm. Inside, he was spiky with impatience and pre-battle jitters.
Ahsoka tripped her comms. “Hey Fives! Bet we can find the commandos first!”
“In your dreams, Ahsoka!” came Anakin’s tinny reply.
“What are the stakes?” Fives said.
“KP for a week,” Rex answered.
“You’re on!”
A flurry of bets scattered through the comms. The tension dissipated,
distracted for a moment by friendly rivalry. Ahsoka subsided.
“Nicely done, Commander,” Rex said quietly. His admiration was faint, almost
hidden beneath the static of apprehension and artificially stoked morale.
She gave a small smile. “I try.”
Then they were breaking atmo. Turbulence rocked the gunboat. Ahsoka tightened
her grip and settled, spreading her stance and bending her knees to absorb the
jostling. A shiny, caught unprepared, staggered into her. She steadied him.
“Watch your footing,” she said.
“Sorry, Commander.”
“Is this your first action?”
“Yes, sir,” he said, his voice strained but steady. Kamino did their training
well.
“You’ll do fine, Trooper…?”
“Hatch,” he replied.
“Trooper Hatch,” Ahsoka repeated. “Welcome to the 501st.”
“Thank you, sir. It’s an honor.”
“The honor is mine.”
Behind her, she felt Rex’s admiration peak, sharp and poignant, before it
settled. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, distinct from pre-battle
jitters. She let out a slow breath. There were times to reflect on her long-
standing crush, but this was not one of them.
“Opening doors,” the pilot called over comms, and Ahsoka’s turmoil was lost
beneath the exhilaration of the LAAT/i doors opening over an alien planet. It
didn’t even matter that it was this planet; the rush of wind and light, the
adrenaline surging through her and the men around her, all conspired to drive
the breath from her lungs, every time. The ring of the asteroid belt was a
ghostly shadow across the sky, and below, rust-red earth, silver in the light
of the moons, spread before them. Wadis cut into deep canyons before washing
into broad flood valleys; mountains rose against the sky, jagged and sharp,
harsh in their beauty. Ahsoka had seen a hundred planets over the course of
this war, and all of them had their share of beauty. Geonosis was a beautiful
planet, the same as Felucia, the same as Mygeeto and Saleucami, the same as
Coruscant and every other planet she held dear. She told herself to remember
that, if she found herself trapped beneath a thousand tons of collapsed hive.
Geonosis was beautiful, even if the battles were ugly.
“We’re making the approach, Commander,” the pilot announced.
“Take us in, Jab,” she said. “The sooner we land the sooner we can make Master
Skywalker eat our dust.”
“Yes, sir,” Jab said. He landed them light as featherdown beside the shafts of
mineral deposits that marked the hive’s exhaust vents. Ahsoka and her team
scrambled, clearing the landing field for their pilot to take off and the next
to land. She led the line up to the saddle between the nearest two vents.
“Appo,” she said when the troops had gathered. “Take your platoon down the
right vent. Rex and I’ll take the left vent. We’ll RV inside the generator
room.”
“Let’s hope the intel is good,” Appo said.
“Oh, come on,” Jesse replied. “When has intel ever led us wrong?”
“Do you want an itemized list?”
“Gentlemen,” Ahsoka interrupted gently. “Any questions?”
“No, sir.”
“Then move out. We’ve got men to rescue and a bet to win.”
“Yes, sir!”
They climbed the vents as the sun rose. Ahsoka paused when they had made it
about three quarters of the way up, when light crested the horizon and flushed
the landscape pink and gold. Beside her, Rex stopped as well.
“They told us we’d see the galaxy,” he said softly, his voice modulated through
his helmet. “Never once thought the galaxy could look like this.”
Ahsoka nodded, fixing the dawn rainbow of Geonosis’s planetary rings in her
mind. She resumed climbing. They tucked into the lee of the vent before the sun
crested the horizon. Before, the air had been cool against Ahsoka’s skin; now,
it grew moist and warm. She smelled sulfur and a metallic undertone to the
steam, cast-off from the interior of the generators. “Blue group, this is Green
group, what is your status,” she said into the comms.
“Blue group, here,” Appo replied, his voice hissing through interference. “We
are in position, Commander. Grapples locked and loaded.”
“Go on my mark.” She nodded to Rex, who gestured for grapples. As one the
clones attached the grapple lines to their rifles and embedded them into the
rock of the inner vent. “Go, go, go,” Ahsoka said into comms, and they dropped
as one. The hiss of the grapple lines extending disappeared into the hushing
whisper of the vents. Ahsoka drew the Force into her and bounced down after
them, ricocheting from one side of the vent to the other, controlling her
momentum and vector with preternatural speed. She outpaced her platoon and
landed at the base of the shaft, her lightsabers bared and ready for action.
None was forthcoming. She extinguished her shoto and raised her wrist. “Initial
drop zone clear, Captain.”
“Roger that,” Rex replied. Ahsoka reached through Force to warn her of
approaching drones and looked up the vent shaft. Four dozen figures appeared
through the fog, backlit by the top of the vent, bobbing in long, graceful arcs
as they rappelled down to meet her.
“Detach grapples,” Rex ordered when they reached the bottom. Then, to Ahsoka,
“Hope we won’t have to leave these.”
“That depends entirely on Dr. Vindi,” she replied, determination hardening
through her. She hadn’t forgotten the Blue Shadow Virus. She doubted Rex had,
either. They had plans A through G waiting just in case, including everything
from medevac to scrapping the mission and making a tactical retreat.
She led the way into the tunnel. It was an unfortunate aspect of Geonosian
tunnels that, in addition to being a warren, they blocked comm signals. Short
of slicing into Geonosian comm relays, their own messages were jammed by the
local rock. Short-range was no problem, but any farther than ten meters and
signal quality degraded beyond intelligibility. The only way to manage an
assault on a hive was through superior intel and exhaustive planning. Ahsoka,
Anakin, and Rex had done both. The rest was up to their troops, and they were
the finest the GAR had to offer.
That didn’t make her feel less isolated, despite having fifty highly-trained
soldiers at her back.
She led her platoon down the vent fissure until it widened out into the
generator room. They stood on a ledge overlooking a vast cavern, and before
them, encompassing their peripheral vision, the massive steam-driven turbines
that powered the hive.
“I’ve got eyes on Blue Group,” Rex said, pointing to the cluster of white-
armored figures poking their heads out of a vent about fifty meters away.
Ahsoka marked out a rally point near the generator halfway between them. A
distant shape--Appo--made a broad gesture of acknowledgement. They got moving,
spreading out into the generator room to maximize their target area and
minimize potential casualties.
The rendezvous was short. They all knew their objective, and their tactics.
“Time to fan out,” Ahsoka said simply. “Divide by squads and teams. Clear the
way, boys.”
Her assault and Anakin’s were on opposite approaches to the hive. If everything
went to plan, they would clear the hive and meet in the middle as their own
reinforcements. An uneasy prickle settled in the back of her mind. She couldn’t
tell if it was the Force warning her, or if it was simply nerves. Geonosian
hives were creepy.
She led her little fireteam--her, Rex, a veteran named Gouge and the shiny she
had spoken to on the gunship, Hatch. They made their way down a service
corridor leading from the generator room.
“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Ahsoka said, her skin prickling. Rex,
walking by her side, said nothing. They advanced down the center of the
corridor, two-by-two, a formation they had learned through hard experience was
not optional in a Geonosian hive. But there wasn’t a single hibernating drone
on the walls. Geonosians kept their drones near their assigned duties; these
halls should have been packed with them, awaiting the moment they were needed.
There were depressions along the walls, but no drones filled them.
A faint click was all the warning Ahsoka had. The ground gave way beneath her,
sending her stomach swooping up her throat as she fell. Time seemed to slow. A
trapdoor had opened beneath her and Rex’s feet, and all that waited below was
darkness. She watched, shock making her an observer in her own body, as
together they tumbled down a hidden shaft in the rock, smooth-sided, impossibly
deep. Rex kicked her in the side on the way down; she returned the favor with
an elbow to his helmet. He yanked the vibroblade out of his gauntlet and
slammed it into the wall of the shaft, but the blade bounced off the rock,
flying out of his hand. They landed in a heap, Rex first, then Ahsoka. His
armor wasn’t much better than hard rock. An echoing clang fell down to their
ears, and they were swallowed by darkness.
“You alright, Commander?” Rex asked, his voice overloud in the sudden, aching
silence.
“I think so,” Ahsoka answered. “Guess we found a boobytrap.”
“Looks like it, sir. Would have thought there would be more sharpened sticks at
the bottom of a fall like that.”
“Well, we’re not ruling out unwelcome surprises, yet,” Ahsoka said darkly. She
pushed to her feet and ignited her lightsabers, casting green light over the
walls of a small cave about as big as her quarters aboard the Resolute. It
wasn't nearly as homey. The only entrance she could see was the one they had
fallen through: an irregular hole in the ceiling. Sand and pebbles were layered
over a rocky floor, and in the middle stood a portable holoprojector.
“Hey, Rex,” she said, stepping over to it. “Come look at this.”
No sooner had she spoken than a hologram sprang to life. Ahsoka felt her entire
body freeze. “Ah, Commander Tano!” Vindi said in his stuffy Faust accent. “We
meet again! How fortunate that you have come to help me test another of my
compounds!”
“What are you talking about?” Rex demanded, striding forward into pickup range.
“Ah,” Vindi said. “Another clone. I already know what my concoction does to
you. But seeing what it does to a Jedi--” his gaze turned back to Ahsoka, “Yes,
that will be most enlightening.”
“What compound?” Ahsoka asked, forcing down her panic to stall.
Vindi’s glee was hideous. “I am delighted you asked! As you may or may not
know, the Geonosians are a largely asexual species; aside from the queen and
what male nobles survive mating with her, they are not moved by attraction and
sexual urges the way more individualized species are. Truly fascinating,
utterly enviable. They commissioned me to produce a toxin that would eliminate
your clone army without harming their drones; my erstwhile colleague, Dr.
Uthan, tried for a more focused, lethal method, but I chose a more elegant,
simple solution: clones are sexual, and influenced by their urges; Geonosian
soldier drones are not. In short, Commander, it is an enhanced aphrodisiac.”
Ahsoka stared at him, nonplussed. She glanced to Rex, who shrugged minutely.
“You mean to take out the clone army by making them aroused,” she said,
stumbling slightly over the words. Her montrals heated.
“As always, you grossly simplify. It is more than enough to distract the clones
so the Geonosians may execute them at their leisure.”
“Our helmets filter out toxins,” Rex said.
“We shall see, Captain. And while you may have a helmet, your commander does
not. Let us see who succumbs first, hmm?”
Ahsoka suddenly noticed the fine mist creeping out of vents near the ceiling,
dropping down to fill the cave. “Rex,” she said, drawing his attention up, away
from the hologram.
“You’ve got to get out of here,” he said. He turned on his helmet spots and
went back to look up at the shaft through which they fell. Ahsoka scoured the
walls for any alternate way out that she might have missed.
“Looks like the hole sealed shut,” he said.
“Blast doors,” Vindi said helpfully. “You could perhaps cut through them with
your lightsaber, but getting to the doors may prove tricky. I designed the
shaft very carefully.”
“I can’t find any other exit,” Ahsoka called out, making a circuit of the room.
“There isn’t one,” Vindi answered. “That shaft is the only way in or out.”
Trapped. In a hole with no way to contact the outside, with a toxin spreading
inside, and a mad scientist watching them to see what they did. Ahsoka’s heart
pounded in her chest. In was the Blue Shadow Virus all over again.
“Maybe there’s a way we can--do you have a spare grappling line, Rex?”
He shook his head. “I’ve got paracord, but no way to launch or affix it.”
“Kriff. Kriff. Okay, how about I levitate you and hold you while you cut
through the doors?”
“That’ll still leave us without a way to get to the surface,” Rex said.
“We’ll worry about that when we get there. Are you ready?” She held out her
lightsaber.
Rex took it awkwardly. “As I’ll ever be.”
His presence in the Force was as familiar as her own, by now. It was second
nature to reach out and touch that presence, and to lift it into the air.
“Easy, Commander,” he said. His signature rippled with more nerves than he had
shown on the ride down to the planet. Then again, Rex was a two-year veteran.
Atmospheric descent was nothing; he did it every other day. Getting lifted into
the air by a power he could neither see nor feel was an altogether different
occurrence. He bore it well, and Ahsoka lifted him, and it was almost like
holding him in her own arms. She tried to shake the thought away, but it
lingered. His strength and determination were palpable. She peered up after
him, the slender blade of green he held dancing in the shadows like a will-o’-
the-wisp.
“What’s it look like, up there?”
Rex waved the lightsaber around, taking in the lay of the land. “About two
meters across. The walls look smooth. No hand- or footholds. How high can you
lift me, Commander? I can’t see the top, yet.”
“I--I don’t know,” she said, her upraised arms beginning to tremble. She had
lifted larger objects than Rex and held them for far longer than this. Sweat
was already pooling beneath her lekku.
“Commander?”
“You are already feeling the effects, excellent,” Vindi’s hologram said.
Ahsoka glared at him, but it felt feeble. “What’s happening to me?”
“The toxin is inhibiting neurotransmitter release in your peripheral synapses,
Commander. A system-wide release of dopamine will mitigate the effect; without
this release, the toxin will cause paralysis and eventually asphyxiation.”
Ahsoka goggled at him. “What?”
“Commander?” Rex’s voice was sharp with concern.
“What’ll release dopamine?” Ahsoka demanded.
“You will find out soon enough,” Vindi replied, smugly. “Your body knows what
it needs. I feel I should warn you, however: the toxin is absorbed through
inhalation, but is also passed on through fluid exchange, making it self-
propagating within a limited radius. The cure will eventually kill you.” He
giggled manically. Ahsoka’s skin crawled.
“Commander Tano! Ahsoka! I need you to put me down!”
She gasped and steadied her grip on Rex. She carefully lowered him back to the
cave floor. He sank to his knees. “Thank you, sir,” he said. “Plan A: not a
success.”
“On to plan B, then,” Ahsoka said faintly. It was harder to focus; she felt so
warm. “How much air have you got left?”
“About three minutes.” Ahsoka looked sharply up at him. He shrugged. “It’s only
a five minute supply. Enough for an emergency, hopefully to get to an oxygen
tank.”
“An oxygen tank would be nice, right about now,” Ahsoka said. “Okay. What’ve we
got that we can use?”
“You will start feeling disoriented soon. Your reaction has been faster than I
calculated, but then, all of my subjects to date have been Human, and male.
Muscle mass seems to act as a buffer to the toxin.”
Ahsoka looked to Rex. “We have a transmitter we know for a fact will work
inside a Geonosis hive.” She hesitated. “I need to meditate,” she said. “Maybe
I can slow the progression of the toxin.”
“You do what you have to, Commander,” Rex said, and went over to the
transmitter in the floor.
“What are you doing?” Vindi demanded. “Stop that. I must see the progression of
the toxin, get away you foolish clone--” he cut off into blessed silence.
Ahsoka caught herself watching Rex’s hands deftly pry apart the holoprojector
before she realized she wasn’t meditating. She closed her eyes and turned her
gaze inward. It was then that she realized she wasn’t just hot, or frustrated
at their predicament. She blushed furiously when she realized she was aroused.
It wasn’t like any arousal she had experienced before: the sensations came in
waves, leaving her dizzy and sweating; she felt heavy, swollen, a mere vessel
for the liquid clench in her belly. Her control was thready and fraying fast.
She kept herself distant from her body as she fought to isolate the pathogen,
but it outpaced her, and the further it spread the less she could force her
mind to follow.
“Commander?” Rex’s voice, soft, hesitant, snapped her from her fragile trance.
She gasped as heat and pure lust slammed into her, her lekku spasming outward
in a sensuous undulation.
“Rex,” she said. Her voice came out sounding throatier than she had meant it
to. She cleared her throat. “What have you got?”
“A way to send out a message, if we’re lucky,” he said. He showed her the
jumble of wires in his hands. “I’m no slicer; it’ll probably only be good for
one transmission before it shorts out.”
“Better than nothing,” she said. “Call Master Skywalker.”
“Yes, sir.” he fiddled with the wires for a moment, then a hologram of her
master rose up before them.
“Who is this?” he demanded. “Rex? What are you doing on a Geonosian frequency!”
“We’ve got a situation, General,” he said.
“Gouge commed in, said you’d fallen into a trapdoor, and Ahsoka jumped in after
you. Said there was a blast door that they couldn’t get around.”
“That’s pretty much it, sir.”
“Where’s Ahsoka?”
“Here, Master,” she said, and Rex pulled the projector closer to her, so that
Anakin could see them both. He looked furious, which really meant he was
scared.
“I assume there’s more to it than just ‘we fell in a hole and can’t get out’?”
“I got hit with a dose of something Vindi cooked up,” Ahsoka said. “Again.”
Anakin stared at them both for a heartbeat of dead silence. “What’s your
location.”
“Just south of the generator room,” Rex quickly filled in. “Access corridor to
generator three, there’s a trapdoor about thirty meters in. That’s the only way
in or out, sir.”
Anakin’s face hardened. “There’s about three hundred Geonosian drones occupying
those tunnels now.”
“So that’s where they went,” Ahsoka said. It came out more dreamily than she
meant it to; Anakin gave her a sharp, worried glance.
“Look out for her, Rex,” he snapped. “If anything happens to her--”
“A little late for that, Master,” Ahsoka interrupted. “Something already
happened.”
“She’s safe with me,” Rex said, his voice a low rumble in Ahsoka’s montrals.
She shivered.
“I’m coming to get you. You just sit tight.”
“Yes, sir.”
The transmission winked out, and they sat next to each other in silence. Rex
tossed the hodgepodge transmitter on the ground, then reached up and broke his
helmet seals.
“Rex! What are you--”
“Ran out of air,” he said. “No point keeping it on, now.”
Ahsoka looked down at her lap. She was sick of this war. She was sick of how it
seemed never-ending, how it always found new ways to hurt. She was sixteen and
she felt older than Master Yoda, sometimes.
She realized she was staring at Rex. Realization did nothing, however; she
couldn’t seem to make herself lower her gaze. He looked away instead, a stain
of red over his cheeks. He cleared his throat. The line of his jaw stood in
sharp relief, shadowed and stark in the wan light of her lightsabers. Ahsoka’s
lips parted. She ached. Her clothes felt too hot, too rough. She hugged herself
into a ball, pressing her thighs together and wrapping her arms around her
knees. It was both better and worse. She buried her face in her arms and sought
the oblivion of meditation.
This time, rather than fight the arousal pounding through her, she reached into
it and accepted it. She couldn’t have said why she did it. It certainly wasn’t
the Jedi way. But bringing herself above it had done nothing to ameliorate her
plight, only drawn it into sharper focus; she lost nothing by trying. She let
it wash over her, and she welcomed its presence. To her surprise, while the
intensity of the sensations did not diminish, the pain of them did. They became
bearable, after a fashion. Waves of gooseflesh surged over her arms, chills and
flashes of heat; she rode the crests of them like a boat upon a storm, and did
not try to fight the swells. She felt powerful, for all that she felt small.
Her trance was broken by a low noise beside her, and the creak of armor as Rex
stood in a rush. She raised her head and blinked after him, confused. It was
like waking from a nap into disorientation; the only thing that stood out
clearly, that made sense, was Rex. He was pacing back and forth, his step
hitching awkwardly. His hands were restless, first resting on his belt, then
brushing over his fuzz of hair, then crossing in front of his chest. He glanced
up at her, a passing look, furtive, as though he wasn’t allowed, and when he
saw she was looking back, he blushed so hard Ahsoka thought for half an idiotic
moment he was suffering from a fever--until she reminded herself that she
wasn’t much better, and that the glassy look in his eye was probably no
different than the glassy look in her own.
She fancied she could almost smell him from here. Sweat, nanoprene, and
Geonosian dust. Her gaze fixed on his mouth; a rush of saliva made her swallow.
He gave a ragged groan and turned around, bracing himself against the rocky
wall of the cave.
“Rex,” she said, her voice husky and not her own.
He shook his head, saying nothing.
“Rex. What are you feeling?”
She heard the click of his swallow. “I’d rather not say, sir.”
Ahsoka took a steadying breath. “That’s about the same for me, then.”
Rex shuddered.
“So the question is, what are we going to do about it?”
“Not a karking thing,” Rex snapped, his voice overloud in the small cave. He
went still, then visibly forced himself to relax. “I told General Skywalker I’d
look after you,” he said, and it sounded like he was reminding himself more
than telling her.
It occurred to her that she may very well have more experience with her
sexuality than Rex did with his. The thought seemed to divide in her mind, and
while part of her felt weary and sad at yet one more tragedy the clones had to
endure, the rest of her fluttered in with thoughts of tasting his first kiss.
That part of her grew steadily louder, doing its level best to block out her
sense of reason.
It wasn't the arousal that was the problem, she decided. It was the intrusive
thoughts, and her newfound inability to let them go. She imagined prying Rex
out of his armor and licking the sweat off his chest, and her entire body
throbbed at the thought. It was a positive-feedback loop to beat all others.
That didn't make it any better. They were by definition unable to make a clear,
rational decision; anything they did in this room would have to be considered
performed under the influence. It was Ahsoka’s responsibility as Rex’s
commanding officer to make sure that didn’t happen. She squared her jaw and
said, “Tell me about growing up on Kamino.”
It took Rex a moment to speak. When he did, it was halting, and in the cadence
he used to make formal reports. “I came out of a batch of ten. Two of us didn't
make the grade and were discarded before we were decanted. The remaining eight
of us were formed up into Jaig squad, team one and team two. I was one of the
riflemen in team two. I--” he looked away, but it was a different kind of hurt
that made him hide his face, one far older and deeper. “I caught a lot of flak
for my hair.”
“Your hair?”
“It's blond.”
Surprise warmed Ahsoka through. “I thought you bleached it.”
Rex shook his head. He had turned around to lean back against the cave wall,
his arms crossed over his chest and his hands bunched into fists. “The
Kaminoans inserted a few wild card genes into the DNA matrix, as a way to
ensure a single strain of the flu wouldn't wipe us all out. Usually one clone
per squad got something a little different in their cocktail than his brothers.
Most of the time you wouldn't know it--Eleven said he'd had an extra finger
before it got removed when he was six. But.”
“You can't surgically remove blond hair,” Ahsoka filled in.
“Yeah. Kept it shaved for the longest time.”
“But not now?”
Rex reached a hand up to his short-cropped fuzz, rubbing it back and forth
before smoothing it down. “Got used to it. After most of my squad died in a
live ordnance misfire I figured my hair was small waves. No one else made a big
deal of it, and I met a couple brothers with blue eyes or red hair. Figured not
many of us had blond hair, may as well be proud of it.”
He didn't look very proud, but then he probably wasn't thinking too much about
his hair. Ahsoka empathized. It was getting harder to pull her own thoughts
away from the liquid slip between her thighs. She wondered if she’d soaked
through her leggings yet, if Rex would notice if she had--
“I was teased for having a huge head,” she said quickly. Rex looked up at her,
startled. “Togruta aren't born with our montrals, but once we reach two years
old they start budding. I was called lumpy for the longest time.”
Rex cracked a smile, his eyes roving over her montrals and down her lekku, then
further--he looked away. “What made them stop?”
“I tried to shove a training saber in Deylin Fortabrin’s ear.” She smirked. “I
would have if he hadn't screeched like a nerf calf.”
Rex huffed a weak laugh. “Your montrals are…” He glanced up at her, then away.
“They're nice,” he mumbled. He closed his eyes for a moment, his brow
scrunching, and shifted his weight.
What was he thinking? Running his hands down her montrals, maybe, to brush over
the swollen tips of her lekku. A shudder tore through her at the thought, and
she pried her eyes away. “I like your hair, too,” she said hoarsely. Then,
before she could stop herself, “I’ve always wondered what hair was like.
Togruta don't grow it naturally.” She bit her lip to keep more words from
falling out.
Rex let out a gusting breath, his face on the edge of a pained grimace.
“Commander, I--”
“I know, I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry.”
“It's not that.” He hesitated, then shook his head. He stared across, to the
far wall. There was an unfocused and yet attentive quality of his gaze that
made Ahsoka strongly suspect he was watching her in his peripheral vision. She
was watching him the same way. He was a long line of white, blue, and black,
tall and bulky, and he should have seemed threatening in his armor, but Ahsoka
had been around clones for so long that she barely noticed how lethal they
could be, anymore. He was fidgeting, his expression pinched.
“Rex, what is it?”
“I need to take my armor off,” he said in a rush. He ducked his head, but she
could see the tips of his ears turning red.
Ahsoka swayed back from the flood of realizations and images that assaulted
her. She found herself staring at his crotch. She didn't know much about
penises despite the basics, so she wasn't an expert; but cod armor didn't look
very comfortable. He was probably hard underneath. If he was in any comparable
state to hers, he had to be. She doubted the Kaminoans designed the clones’
armor to accommodate erections. “Oh, Force,” she murmured. The part of her mind
she wished would shut up screamed at her to run over and press herself bodily
against him. She had felt so close to climax for the past--she had no idea how
long they had been trapped in this horrible little cave, but it felt like a
lifetime.
“Commander, I-I’m sorry, I--” his voice cracked, and he cut himself off. He
cleared his throat. “I’ll leave it on.”
“Why tell me?” Ahsoka asked. “Why not just take it off?” She’d seen clones take
off their armor in front of others all the time. It wasn't some great taboo.
“Given the circumstances, sir, it seemed inappropriate.”
She refocused on him. He had, perhaps unconsciously, moved to stand at
attention, his hands shaking in fists at his sides. She couldn't tell blush
from flush anymore, but she suspected he was utterly mortified. It was one
thing, she realized, to strip down to a bodyglove when it was situation normal;
it was something else altogether when you were with your commanding officer and
you’d both been dosed with a potent aphrodisiac.
Damn Nuvo Vindi.
“If you're looking for permission, Rex, consider it granted. Your physical
well-being is more important in this scenario than our sense of propriety.”
Pretty words. She wondered how true they were, and if it wasn't just the toxin
speaking for her. She would be lying if she said the thought of Rex in just his
blacks didn't burn through her so hotly it nearly drove her cross-eyed.
He stared at her as though he wished she’d said anything else. She looked to
the side, her montrals prickling with embarrassment. “I’ll--I’ll just--” she
shifted, and the flush of pure, tingling sensation that rushed through her
limbs after sitting so long in one position did make her moan, soft and
breathy, mostly air but nearly deafening. She hunched in on herself and turned
around, and never mind the sharp inhale she heard behind her. Her right
buttcheek had gone numb, she noted absently. It was difficult to care, when she
could feel the weight of Rex’s eyes on her naked back.
Ahsoka Tano rarely worried about the backwards and restrictive social mores of
certain planets that insisted women cover their bodies. As a Jedi, she dressed
how she pleased; as a Togruta, she wore her people's traditional fashions in a
manner that suited her tastes. Now was the first time she had ever questioned
her choice of clothing. She heard Rex’s breathing change as he fumbled with his
gloves and gauntlets, growing tighter and less controlled.
“Fierfek,” she heard him mutter. “Oh, come on--motherless pile of slime-worm
shi--karking hell!”
He almost never swore in front of her. “Is everything okay?”
There was a pregnant pause. “Hands are shaking,” he finally said. “Can't get
the plates off.”
Ahsoka took a deep, steadying breath. It didn't seem to steady her very much.
“Do you want me to help?”
There was an event longer pause. All she could hear was her heartbeat pounding
in her montrals and Rex’s irregular breathing. Ahsoka fought against pressing
him to answer. Her own hands were clenched in her skirt to keep from trembling.
“Yes,” he said, his voice almost inaudible.
She stood, feeling the way she had all through the campaign on Mon Cala: as
though she was in danger of floating away. Her lekku were twitching. They sent
shivers over her shoulders and down her back. She turned back to him. He looked
unspeakably nervous, not at all like the fiercely competent, quietly sardonic
man she had come to know so well.
To know, to admire, a sneaky little voice said. To desire?
She shook her head. It’s just the toxin, she told herself.
She came up to him, close enough to touch. She could see, now, the tremors in
his hands. In all of him, really; he was wound so tightly she thought he might
snap.
“What do you need me to do?”
He had such long lashes. She could see them, now that his eyes were downcast,
dark despite his blond hair. He held out his arm. “There's a seam along here.
The two halves snap together. All you do is pull ‘em apart.”
She laid a hand on his vambrace, resting the tips of her fingers over the blue
stripe. Hash-marks tallied the number of commando droids he'd taken out; he’d
developed a particular hatred for them, over the years.
“Easiest way for the vambraces is to knock ‘em off against a table or corner.
Keep your wrist tucked and punch. Sheers ‘em right off. Them and the rerebraces
are hardest.” He was making a brave show of nonchalance, but Ahsoka could feel
his uncertainty wobbling in the Force like water beneath a paddywalker’s
footsteps. “Snap on easy, come off hard. Makes sense, when you think about it.”
Rex could face down a combat zone with nary a qualm, but here, in this cave
with Ahsoka, he was so off his ease he couldn't even get his own armor off.
Although maybe it was the toxin; Ahsoka’s hands weren’t much better than his.
“I don’t know how much help I’ll be,” she said.
She ran her fingers up the vambrace, toward the crook of his elbow. She wasn’t
touching skin, she wasn’t even touching the bodyglove; but they both watched
the progress of her hand, and the tension between them drew taut. She wiggled
her fingers into the narrow space between the plate and his arm--he was so
warm--and again, on the other side, holding on to the couter for leverage. She
pulled--but it didn’t even budge. She glanced up at him. He was looking at her,
his eyes dilated almost black. He managed a wry smile. “Here, let me--” he
brought up his opposite hand, and wriggled his fingers in beside hers, in the
tender hollow of his elbow. Ahsoka stared sightlessly at his shoulder bell,
lost in the press of his bare skin, in the heat of his body, against the firm
give of muscle beneath her knuckles. She pulled, almost without being aware;
she moved with Rex’s fingers, and the vambrace fell apart in her hands with a
stiff pop. She rested the flat of her palm against his forearm, bare now but
for the thin layer of his blacks. His hand curled up beneath hers, to cup her
elbow. Ahsoka was mesmerized by the differences in their arms--his strong with
muscle, dwarfing her own even though she was well-muscled in her own right.
Wielding a lightsaber demanded strong forearms and wrists. She glanced back up
at him. His lower lip was between his teeth. It was a gesture she wasn’t sure
she’d ever seen him make, before.
“Rex,” she said, squeezing his arm as she did, and he winced, hunching. Ahsoka
thought for a moment she’d squeezed too hard, but then he broke her grip.
“Off, get it off,” he said.
They made short work of the rest of his plates. The shoulder bells attached
directly to his cuirass, and he directed her to take them off first. His
fingers shook far less as they got underway, enough so that he Ahsoka suspected
he didn’t actually need her help. First the bells, then the rerebraces and
couters, then the tricker operation of the cuirass. Rex took off his utility
belt first, laying it, his kama, and his twin holsters to the side.
“First you have to detach the plackart,” he said softly, directing her to the
softer, more flexible abdominal plates that protected his stomach. He showed
her how to work her fingers into the crevice between plates, and how to loosen
the catches. “They’re more to steady the assembly than to actually hold the
cuirass and plackart together,” he said. “Too rigid and we wouldn’t be able to
move.”
The cuirass came next.
“The catch is here, over the shoulder,” he said. “They have to be released at
the same time, or they’ll jam and you’ll be stuck half out of your armor.” He
released them, and Ahsoka helped him pull the separated breast- and backplates
over his head.
After that, the plackart came easily--the plates were rigid, but the blast-
damping cloth holding them together allowed a degree of torsion. She undid the
seals and added it to the pile of plastoid collecting at the base of the wall.
He looked so… delicate, without the protection of his armor. It was a
ridiculous thought; if he wanted to, he could kill her just as quickly without
his armor. But she found herself tracing the shape of his chest with her eyes,
the outline of his muscles through the fabric of his blacks. They were standing
so close. Her hand rested on the ridge of armor just over his hip that spanned
the distance from his skidplate to his codpiece. The heat of his body radiated
outward. She was so cold. What would it be like to press against him, to mold
herself against him, to feel his heat soak into her? She imagined pressing her
face against his neck and breathing in his scent. She met his gaze, and a
shudder went through her. He was watching her with such naked want, such
plaintive longing, that her knees turned to water. Her hand tightened on his
hip. He swayed toward her, but he didn’t quite touch. He sighed, and his breath
gusted warm over Ahsoka’s montrals.
“I really need to get this off before my gett’se get crushed,” he said.
She tried her best to stifle her giggle.
“It’s not funny!”
“It’s a little funny.”
“Yeah, ‘cause they’re not your nuts.”
They could be, she thought, and her laughter dried up in a wash of heat. Rex
groaned. “Armor first, Ahsoka, please.”
What’s second? she thought, but she said, “How does it come apart?”
He told her. The nervous tension had eased back in, with the proximity of her
hands to sensitive areas. Ahsoka was certain the press of his belly against her
knuckles as he breathed would remain engraved on her mind for the rest of her
life. “Phase I armor was a lot worse,” Rex said, his voice a little too high
and strained. “Kaminoans, they don’t really…get human anatomy.”
Ahsoka was biting the inside of her cheek too hard to manage a smirk. “And to
think you took so long to change over.”
“Yeah, well, it took Fives giving me a strongly-worded lecture about pride, and
how I wouldn’t have any left if I didn’t make the switch.”
Ahsoka snorted. “Men.” She pulled the cod armor, and the matched skidplate,
away.
The soft, aching noise of relief Rex made settled in her montrals. His hands
spasmed into fists, and she knew he’d be cupping himself if she wasn’t there.
She tried not to look. The bodyglove, it. It left very little to the
imagination. At least, not in the condition Rex was in now. He’d fallen silent,
his face turned aside. The tremors that had eased sprang up again, and the
Force was tinged with his resigned embarrassment and relief. Ahsoka stared for
too long at the rigid shape curving over the top of his thigh. Had she imagined
the way it swelled when she had released it from the codpiece? Her fingers
stretched of their own accord, and it took everything Ahsoka had not to reach
out and touch.
Focus.
Thigh plates, next. She scraped her mind for the word: cuisses. “Does this come
off like your vambraces?” She pushed her fingers between the plate and Rex’s
thigh, burning and melting at the simple awareness of how close she was to his
groin.
His hand clamped down on her wrist, hard enough to startle. “I’ve got it from
here, Commander.” He still wasn’t looking at her. Mingled shame and shock at
her own boldness spilled through her, and she pulled her hand away as though
stung.
“Sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean--I’m sorry.”
“We’ll probably do a lot of things we don’t mean, before we get out of here,”
Rex said, glaring at the floor.
Oh. Ahsoka had thought that maybe he had… felt something for her, too.
Something beyond the toxin, anyway. If she could have, she was sure she’d be
blushing in mortification. But of course he wouldn’t. She wasn’t a youngling,
but she was still very young, even next to Rex. He probably felt like he always
had, that she was a friend and his commanding officer. She knew damn well that
he didn’t see her as a burden anymore, but if he’d regret anything they did
under the toxin… She took deep breaths. Assumptions only bring
miscommunication, Master Kenobi had told her, once.
But it was so hard not to assume. She folded her arms around herself and backed
away, leaning against cold stone on the opposite side of the cave from Rex. He
applied himself to his armor--two hands, now, easy work--and in short order he
was wearing nothing but his black bodyglove, blending in with the shadows.
“Sitrep, Captain,” she said softly. “What have we got?”
She saw Rex look at her out of the corner of her eye. He didn’t seem to know
what to do with his hands, now that he was out of his armor and at loose ends.
He tucked them into his armpits. “Doesn’t look good, sir,” he replied, his tone
equally soft. “We’re alive for the time being, and relatively unharmed. Help is
coming. But…” he sighed. “Our weapons are useless, our way out--even if we
could get to it--is blocked, and there’s something in my bloodstream telling me
to--” he faltered.
“To fuck me,” Ahsoka answered tonelessly. His shoulders hunched in on
themselves. “Don’t worry, Rex. I’ve got the same thing telling me to let you.”
She snorted. “Telling me to turn the tables and take you hard up against a
wall.” She ran her hand over the cave wall. It felt rough but fine-grained,
like sandstone. She pressed her fingers into it, willing her skin to forget the
sensation of Rex’s upper thigh a thin layer of syntech fabric away.
She shuddered. Every time she moved frissons shot through her. It was like a
limb gone numb, returning to sensation: overwhelming, staticky, almost
unpleasant. Every time she breathed it felt like her diaphragm was pressing
down on her groin, squeezing and sparking out shocks of pleasure too sharp to
feel good. Her body was crying out for release. She felt her hand travel down
to her belt, almost without her conscious input. She clenched her fingers into
the leather. Her hips moved of their own accord, pushing up into the fist she
pressed against her lower belly. She let out a ragged breath. Force preserve
her, it felt so good. She pushed her fist more firmly against her pelvic bone,
to give her something to shift against; spasms of relief flooded her. She
couldn't have stopped now if she'd tried. Shame boiled away beneath pure want.
“Ahsoka.”
Rex’s soft, broken voice broke through her awareness, and Ahsoka managed to
pause. She swallowed. God, how pathetic she must look. She grit her teeth.
“Don't look if you don't like it,” she snapped. Or, she tried to snap. It came
out breathier than she meant. She squeezed her eyes shut, the only privacy she
had, and turned to the wall, pressing her forehead against the stone as she
loosened her hand from her belt, and pressed her hand flush against her crotch.
Even through three layers it was almost more than she could bear, and a small
noise broke free from her throat. She was shaking again, but not from nerves.
In for a decicred, in for a dozen. She pulled her skirt up and her leggings
down, and slipped her fingers beneath her underwear. The slick of her body’s
fluids that met her left her silently gasping. She slid through them without
the slightest resistance; she ran up against the swollen nub of her clit almost
before she was ready, and every muscle in her body clenched at once. Her
breaths came out high and strained. She couldn't stop the faint whimpering
sounds she made. The niggling awareness of Rex refused to go away; she heard
him sit down. Shame spiraled through her, but she couldn't have stopped if
she'd tried, not even for shame. She rubbed harder, pushing against her clit in
an effort to knock herself over into orgasm. Spasms of nerve-shot pleasure ran
down her legs, but climax remained as elusive as before. She went down to her
knees, bracing herself against the rock wall. Behind her, Rex was dead silent.
It wasn't enough. She pressed harder, rubbing until her hand cramped; she
rocked her hips and locked her muscles, used everything she knew to hasten her
relief, but nothing worked. She usually did this while lying down on her bunk;
maybe that was why? She wasn't used to it like this? She readjusted her fingers
and one slipped back further than she meant it. The line of fire that speared
up through her belly made her freeze.
She knew you could put things in your vagina, obviously, but she never had.
There was something so… awkward about it. It seemed far less awkward now, and
so enticing that her inner muscles clenched like a fist before letting go with
an empty-feeling pang. Just a finger, that couldn't hurt. She slipped one in,
deliberately this time, arching her wrist to reach. It didn't feel anything
like what she was expecting. Pillowy, soft, strangely ribbed in places. She
stroked against the walls, and she gasped, sharp and loud. She bit her lip. It
wasn't as intense as the sensations around her clit, but it was new, and had a
touch of the forbidden. She pressed further, until her hand pushed against her
rim and she couldn't go farther. She tried another finger. She spasmed around
them, and that sensation, of her body clenching hot around her fingers, made
her head sag bonelessly on her neck. She brought up her thumb to keep rubbing
at her clit, hard along the side the way she liked, and for a minute solid it
was the best thing she's ever felt, the raw pleasure increasing until her
thighs were shaking--until it reached a plateau, and she was left shivering on
the edge of release. She let out a strained snarl and pounded her fist against
the wall.
She tried harder, pushing in another finger, until she could hear the soft
squelch of her body around them. She even scraped her fingernail over the top
of her clit, hard as a nail head, a throbbing, bitterly aching nubbin at the
crux of her thighs. It sent shocks of feedback though her nerves, but it didn't
send her into orgasm. She slowed, frustration and a cramping hand forcing her
to ease up. She stroked, teasing herself. A drop of sweat ran down her back,
from under her lek. Reality slipped back in, and along with it her shame. She
almost couldn't make herself do it, but she peered over her shoulder, to where
Rex was sitting. He had his elbows propped up on his knees, his head buried in
his arms so she couldn't see his face; his hands were gripping his elbows so
tightly his fingers had gone white. She could see the ridge of his erection,
outlined through the form-fitting bodyglove. A patch of wetness had soaked into
the fabric covering the tip. The tremor that wracked through her sent a flush
of wetness against her fingers and wrist.
“Force help me,” she breathed, and stroked. She watched him, unable to tear her
eyes from his cock, and rubbed herself until she was dizzy. She watched, and as
she did she saw him tremble, and his fingers spasm, and then he was slowly
reaching down, resistance and desperation in the line of his shoulders, and
rested his hand over himself, squeezing gently, and she saw the wet spot grow.
She clenched around her fingers. Curious, she let out a particularly breathy
moan, loud in the tiny cave, and she saw his shoulders tighten, and his hand
squeeze, and unless she very much missed her mark, his cock jumped in his hand,
visible even through the compression fabric of his blacks.
“Okay, I’m done trying to pretend I don't want this,” she said, and pulled her
hand free. She groaned and swayed at the loss, and Rex’s head jerked up,
yanking his hand away like a boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
“Sir?”
She marched over to him. Well, wobbled; it was difficult to walk in a straight
line. The movement of her thighs was almost too much to bear. Rex looked like a
corr trapped in the path of a hungry nexu. By the time she made it to the his
side of the cave, however, Ahsoka’s courage failed her. Rex hadn't moved,
exactly, but the tension in his body said that one wrong move from her and he
was bolting. She knelt just within arm's reach.
This close and she could smell him. His sweat was musky and Human; a little
acrid, but compelling in a way that set her on edge. He was watching her. Not
out of the corner of his eye, but full-on, keeping her in his sights. His
caution made her feel like a predator. She was one, but in this case it didn't
feel like a thrill.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” she said awkwardly, almost defensively. Just the
thought of her hurting him was laughable, at first glance. He was a head taller
than her and weighed at least thirty kilos more. Clones were bred to be sturdy;
they put on muscle as easy as breathing. Rex was leaner from the hard
campaigning, but it took two of Ahsoka’s hands to span his bicep.
That was just appearances, though. Ahsoka was a Jedi, and that counted far more
than any muscle. If she wanted, she could make Rex do anything at all.
“Not worried about you hurting me,” Rex said, after a painfully long pause.
Ahsoka frowned at him before the credit dropped. Earlier, the implication of--
of that would have made her uncomfortable; now, it just made her body clench up
in frustrated want. She heaved a sigh, one that turned a little too close to
hungry for her comfort. She was suddenly aware of her nipples, drawing tight
and stinging against the fabric of her dress. She arched a little despite
herself.
“What’s the alternative?” she asked. “This isn't getting any better, and if we
hold off much longer I don't think we’ll be able to talk it through before we--
before anything happens.”
Rex shuddered. He buried his head against his arms, and Ahsoka was transfixed
by the tendons in his neck. She swayed toward him, just a taste…
"I told General Skywalker I’d look after you,” he said, and his voice was
gravelly but it sounded like a plea.
“Master is a worrywart,” Ahsoka replied tartly. “I may be a padawan, but I'm a
legal adult. I can look after myself.”
Rex didn't look up, and she sighed. She faced the wall, rubbing her hands over
the tops of her thighs. “Would it help if I countermanded his order?”
Rex went absolutely still. A chill ran down Ahsoka’s spine, but she pressed the
attack.
“I’m your superior officer, and since the order wasn't given to me I can
countermand it.”
Still he said nothing.
She dragged a frustrated hand down her montral. “This isn't any easier for me,
you know!”
Finally he raised his head. His eyes, his beautiful brown eyes, were clouded
and conflicted. “That isn't an order you should have to countermand,” he said.
“Yeah, well, this isn't exactly the normal life-or-death situation.” She
hesitated, then reached out and placed a hand on his forearm. “What's the worst
that could happen? We--we have sex, this goes away, we’re embarrassed for a few
weeks and then we get over it.”
“It might not go away.”
The cure will eventually kill you, Vindi laughed in her mind.
“Well, just sitting here isn't helping, either.”
“We wait for the general to extract us. I obey my orders.”
“Even unreasonable ones?”
“It's not unreasonable!” His voice echoed in the cave. Ahsoka stared back at
him, surprised. “It's not unreasonable,” he repeated, looking shaken and
contrite. “Looking after your safety will never be unreasonable.”
“Rex,” she said helplessly. She’d known he cared in some fashion, even if only
in the distant way of an XO toward an inexperienced CO. But the warm glow that
his outburst set in her chest was intoxicating. Before she was aware of what
she was doing she had reached over and cupped his face. She leaned in, and
pressed a kiss to his lips, so light it was just a feather-brush, a sharing of
breath, and nothing more. She gave him another, but still he didn't respond.
She pulled back, her montrals ringing with lust and her own temerity.
He stopped her with a hand on her elbow. They stayed frozen for a minute,
looking each other in the small space between them, before he cracked,
shivered, and kissed her back. It was just as light as hers had been, but the
hot prickle that ran down her spine and pooled between her legs was beyond
sweet. They did little more than that for countless heartbeats, time slowing
and unspooling as they lost themselves to sensation. His lips were so warm, his
breath heated as it blew over her face. Humans ran hotter than Togruta, she
recalled in a distant corner of her mind. The urge to claim, to press herself
against him and bury herself in the heat of his body overwhelmed her, and she
pressed the kiss, harder than before. He gasped in reply, seeming to suck her
own breath from her lungs, before he was gone, breaking free of her grip and
standing, his back to her. She swayed in his absence.
“Ahsoka, we can’t.”
She felt a moment of searing rejection, and she hunched in on herself, the
imprint of his lips fresh against her own, before she thought to check the
Force.
He was trembling. From need, from want--such aching want it made her own chest
ache in sympathy and her loins pull tight in reply. But he was worried, too.
No--he was terrified, of himself, of his reactions, of what her master would
do. And he was afraid--
“Oh Force, Rex,” she said, pushing to her feet. “Don't be afraid of me.”
He gave a huff, a little breath of air that might have been a wry laugh any
other time. “Everyone’s a little bit afraid of something they've never done
before.”
Ahsoka paused. Yeah. He had a point. She wasn't exactly any better off than he
was in the experience department, and she wasn't shaking just from arousal--but
she wasn’t giving up that easily. She swallowed and put a hand on his back,
just to the side of his spine. His muscles were bunched and hard beneath his
blacks.
“What do you always say to shinies just before their first battle?”
“Just. Just keep your blaster pointed in the right direction and it’ll be over
before you know it.”
“Well.”
“Stop trying to simplify it!”
“It already is simple! Rex, this is the simplest thing!”
“You know better, Commander.”
The use of her title smacked her in the face. She strode around him to stand
before him, face-to-face. Her head was swimming; she could barely focus enough
to remember to keep her hands off him.
“Rex,” she said. “I haven't ordered you to fuck me, because I don't think
that's something we could come back from. But I'm asking. I’m--” her breath
hitched. “Rex, I’m begging. Please.”
“Ahsoka,” he said, his eyes large and imploring.
“Please, Rex, this isn't some game, I swear to the Force I’m not trying to
manipulate you into disobeying orders out of some warped sense of fun. It
hurts, okay? This is the exact opposite of fun.” She felt humiliating,
frustrated tears prick her eyes. “And if we both hurt, then why can't we help
each other? Why is that so bad?”
“The general--”
“I don't care what he'd say!” Ahsoka nearly screeched. “He's not the one stuck
here so pounced he can barely think! We are!”
He just looked at her, like a lost calf.
Ahsoka mustered herself. She smoothed down her twisting lekku and straightened
her tunic. “Captain, I formally rescind General Skywalker’s order for you to
hold my safety above our wellbeing. He was unaware of the terrain, and given
how circumstances have changed, his orders are no longer relevant or helpful.”
She closed her eyes and clenched her fists. “I lay no obligations or duties of
my own upon you. Do what you will.” She turned and walked to the far wall, her
arms clenched around herself. She wanted him so badly she could almost cry. She
heard him shuffle his feet and give a deep sigh. Images of him touching
himself, peeling apart the edges of his blacks enough to slip hard flesh out
and palm it, tormented her. She bit her lip and closed her eyes, turning to
rest her cheek against her lek for some shred of comfort. She could still taste
him on her lips.
“Ahsoka.”
She tried to ignore him, ignore how the sound her name spoken in that tone of
voice, almost surely involuntary, resonated against her bones.
“Ahsoka, please, look at me.”
So much for the willpower of the Jedi. She broke and half-turned, looking back
over her shoulder. He was facing her, his hands clenching and unclenching at
his sides. He was, in all effective ways, laid bare before her: his expression
was naked. He was torn, but hungry and desperate. She had turned before she
realized and taken a half step toward that desperation. His cock twitched, and
he hunched against the spasm that ran through him.
“Ahsoka, I… this doesn’t come easily,” he said. “All I know is war. That’s what
I’m good at.”
Oh, Force. A balloon of hope swelled in her chest. She gave a crooked smile.
“I’m a Jedi,” she answered. “I’m no better.”
His face crumpled into uncertainty again. “Yes, you’re a Jedi. I’m… You’re not
breaking any rules? By doing this?”
Relief spread through her, not a balm but an accelerant. “Jedi are celibate,”
she answered. “We do not marry, certain exceptions aside. But there is no
requirement that we remain chaste.” She ducked her head, because she knew that
was an incomplete answer. “The Code forbids attachment, and tells us to seek
the good of the many over the good of the individual. We are to be selfless,
and to abnegate our wants over those of others.” She looked up. “What would you
do, if that was the rubric against which you had to judge the actions you would
take in this situation?”
“I--” his eyes dragged up from her chest to meet her gaze. “I don’t know.
Ahsoka, I…”
“We can get through this,” she said, and took another step toward him.
“Together.” She forced herself to say, “Only if you want.”
“‘Want’ isn’t the problem,” Rex said. “It’s ‘should.’” He took a hesitant step.
“Should?”
“You are my superior officer and a Jedi Padawan,” he said. “You have
obligations and expectations, a whole future. You should look beyond me. And
me, I should stick to my duty, this is an indiscretion beyond what is
acceptable--”
It sounded rehearsed. Ahsoka cut him off. “What General Skywalker doesn’t know
can’t hurt us,” she said. “Take him out of the picture. Ignore the Jedi. Ignore
our ranks. What’s left?”
He took another step.
This was so unethical. She prayed the Jedi never found out about this, about
the deep well of power she had found in the back of her soul, swirling and
eclipsing her serenity. It felt nothing but good in this moment. She restrained
herself from using it. It scared her. She swallowed. What else was there? If
she didn’t, there was pain for the both of them. Her heart was pounding in her
chest; how long before it gave out?
“This isn’t right,” he whispered.
“What are we supposed to do?” Ahsoka replied, equally torn. “Just sit here and
suffer?”
“If you’re wounded, the medic gives you a painkiller,” Rex said. He was
teetering on the edge of the choice; he’d half-made it already.
Ahsoka stood silent and let him. She bit her lip, to keep from coaxing him
further. He made a broken noise and then he was there, pressed against her, his
hands over her cheeks to guide their mouths together. It was a rougher kiss
than the ones they had shared before, but still more gentle than Ahsoka would
have thought. He kissed her lower lip, where she had bitten it; he kissed like
someone uncertain what he was doing. She held still, taking the sensations as
they came. Her hands slipped forward to his hips. His skin was so warm, even
beneath the insulating layer of nanoprene. His hips stuttered forward; she felt
the rigid press of his erection against her lower belly, and she gasped,
stunned, a liquid pulse running through her, and began to kiss him back,
dragging her lips over his despite the inexperience pounding through both of
them. Her fingers dug into muscle and bone; his hand circled around behind her
head, trapping her against him.
The exquisite relief, of feeling his body against hers, of feeling his heat
melt into her, of the scent of him seeming to soak into her pores, set her
gasping. His racing pulse was her own; the tremble in his hands was mirrored by
the tremble in hers, and suddenly it wasn’t enough. She wasn’t close enough.
There were too many layers between them; she wanted his skin against hers. She
broke away from the kiss.
“Get this off,” she said into the air between them, scrabbling at his waist for
the seam between the upper half of his body glove.
“There’s a trick to it,” he said, stealing kisses between the words. Ahsoka
strained up on her tiptoes to reach, unable to stop. He let go of her long
enough to loosen the tab. Tan skin showed over his waist; her belly clenched.
Her hands were on him in a heartbeat.
“Gods, Ahsoka--” he sounded shredded. She yanked on his uniform top, tugging it
open along the seam up the side of his chest, baring him to her hungry gaze.
She had seen clones shirtless, before. Not often, and usually at a distance;
they were immodest among themselves but shy in front of her. She had seen,
though, and shared more than one speaking glance with Bariss during practice in
the training salles. She knew that Humans had body hair, as well as the hair on
their heads. A memory of Torrent company playing a game of bolo ball in the
cargo bay came to her, shirts versus skins, and she remembered being fascinated
by the tufts of hair beneath their armpits. What purpose could it possibly
serve? She tugged the body glove back over Rex’s shoulders, the sleeves
inverting as she pulled them off over his hands. He looked nervous.
Apprehension flickered through his Force signature, and a curious
embarrassment. He was embarrassed by her attention.
She lifted his arm; he let her, confusion pooling about him in the Force. She
raised it until he was baring his armpit, and the thicket of hair tucked
within.
“Ahsoka, what are you--”
Then she was running her fingers through it, and Rex’s eyes fluttered shut.
“Fierfek,” he breathed. Goosebumps rose along his arm and chest, and Ahsoka
watched in utter fascination as the fine, individual hairs on his shoulder
stood up with them, pointing straight outward. His nipple tightened into a
little brown nub, smaller than her own, and she went up to touch it, curiosity
driving her. His scent was all around her, strong, but not unpleasant. He
tensed when she touched him, arching toward her a little. “Gods,” he burst out,
and it vibrated through her montrals before pooling into her lekku.
He lowered his arm. “Your turn,” he said, and Ahsoka’s breath caught. His
fingers trailed over the bare skin of her back, and she wavered. He slipped his
fingers beneath the far edge of her tunic. She caught his hand.
“There’s a trick to it,” she said, the corner of her mouth quirking wryly. She
reached for her belt and loosened the clasp, then her bracers and leather
armlets. It was a strange reversal of taking off Rex’s armor, except that he
didn’t help. His hand was hot on her hip, his gaze heavy and dark. There was a
small zipper in the back, right above her tailbone; that was the work of a
minute, and her tunic loosened about her frame. Ahsoka met Rex’s gaze, and
reached up to her collar. It was stiff, reinforced by blastweave; she parted
her lekku with her forearms, feeling brazen, baring her neck and collarbones to
him as the loosened the clasp. His lips parted, his expression turning longing,
as she pulled it down. She was aware, as she never had been, of the movement of
the stiffened support fabric parting company with her breasts. She dropped the
tunic, letting it hang about her hips before she pushed it off. It settled
about her ankles, and she was bare, naked to the waist, as he was.
The look of awe upon his face as he reached up to touch her breasts was
stunning. His hands were trembling. He brushed a thumb over her nipple, and the
wash of pleasure that focused from that tiny point almost buckled her knees.
She steadied herself with a hand on his stomach. There was a moment of
breathless anticipation, as she looked up and met his gaze. Then they were
kissing, and time fled. His hands tucked in the tender space beneath her lekku,
to pull her face up to meet his; her own hands reached down, to squeeze his ass
and drag him closer. He staggered against her; the weight of him, surrounding
her, pushing her back, drove her to a frenzy. She bit his lip. He licked hers;
the mingled shock and pleasure of that spurred them to part their lips, to
taste each other more fully. Sensation spilled through her, waves of sensory
feedback; they were rocking together, even through the fabric of their
leggings; she had soaked through her own; would she soak through Rex’s blacks,
too? The thought had her clutching at his shoulders, leaving scrapes from her
fingernails. He answered by bodily lifting her and pushing her back against the
cave wall. She clung to him, her legs coming up around his thighs; Force, she
could feel his erection pressed right against the core of her, hot and
throbbing. She ached for him. She felt empty, in a way she couldn’t express.
She was full of the Force, full of arousal, full of his scent, full of his
touch on her skin; but she was hungry, and she wanted more. She tilted her head
back, breaking the kiss so she could gasp for breath; he affixed his mouth to
her neck, sucking and biting all along the tendon there until she was
quivering, strung out and wanting. He rocked his hips, grinding against her; it
dragged a ragged groan from them both.
It was a pause of sorts, a caesura: they held position, him pressed against
every inch of her he could manage, and her clinging to him, her back stinging
from the stone wall behind her.
“Pants,” Rex said.
“Get ‘em off,” Ahsoka finished. She wriggled free, savoring his soft groan as
she slid down from her perch, arching against him to press her breasts against
his chest.
“You’re not helping,” he said.
“Sorry.” She didn’t feel very sorry. That expression, his eyes closed and his
brow creased in the sweetest pain, she wished she could lock it in her mind’s
eye forever.
They made short work of their trousers. Ahsoka had more layers to contend with,
having her boots and socks and underwear as well, where Rex had only his body
glove; she bounced awkwardly on one foot as she tugged off her boot, and
blushed at Rex’s gleeful expression.
“They’re jiggly,” he said succinctly, a crooked grin on his face.
“You are too,” she replied. “All that--” she waved at his chest. “Muscle.”
“Yours is prettier.”
“Don’t know about that,” she muttered, fighting to keep from crossing her arms
over her chest. She finally yielded to gravity’s demands and sat to take them
off. Rex, completely naked, sat on his knees beside her. She kept glancing over
at him, splitting the difference between his face and his cock. It jutted up
from between his thighs, red and slightly shiny. There was hair at the base,
too, trailing up in a dwindling line to his belly button. She fumbled her boot.
“Do you want help?”
“No, okay, I do this every day, I’m just--”
“Just what?”
She huffed a sigh. “Just nervous.”
He ducked his head, a smile creeping over his face. “You know what I say to
shinies just about to face their first battle?”
Ahsoka covered her face, groaning through her smile. “Don’t say it, you
horrible person--”
“Just keep your blaster pointed in the right direction and it’ll be over before
you know it.” He was blatantly smirking. Ahsoka wanted nothing more than to
wipe it off his face. She stripped off her boots, then her leggings--flinging
them into the corner, where they wouldn't get in the way again--and in a fluid
movement, pushed him over backwards. She crouched above him, her teeth bared in
a feral smile.
“Where’s your weapon pointed, soldier?”
It was an awful line, but Rex was staring up at her with a concussed
expression, hard-hit by his own arousal. His hands, braced against her hips,
dug into her skin. She watched him glance down and then back up, a silent,
pleading look on his face. Ahsoka bit her lip. She knew the mechanics, of
course; had only recently had her own fingers inside herself. But this was Rex,
and she breathed out against the nerves jumbling in her stomach. She reached
down and took hold of his erection, steadying it; it felt like silk and iron in
her grasp. Rex’s fingers spasmed against her hips.
“Oh, Gods,” he breathed.
As though it were a signal, Ahsoka lowered herself to meet him. There, the
blunt, heated tip of his cock, sliding through her slickness; there, the give
as he pressed deeper. There was that expression again, one of blissful pain; he
couldn’t seem to decide whether he wanted his eyes open or shut. His hands were
tight over her hips. Ahsoka felt like she was the eye of the storm, calm amidst
turmoil; she shifted her grasp, and then she pushed down, taking him inside
her.
“Force,” she gasped; Rex said something too, but Ahsoka was consumed by the
stretch of her body around his, sharp and stinging. He was so much larger than
three fingers, and this was just the head.
“Ahsoka, fierfek--”
It hurt, but her body wanted this. Wanted it so badly her inner muscles were
clenching around him, as though trying to draw him in the rest of the way. She
eased down a little further, until the sting outweighed the pleasure. He was so
solid.
Rex had settled on eyes closed, his body rigid, his muscles straining. Sweat
stood out on his chest. Ahsoka trailed her hand up over his abdominals,
chiseled into sharp relief by the strain. His hips were giving tiny thrusting
motions, trying to drive deeper, but he restrained himself. Her heart was
impossibly full. She braced herself against his chest and lowered herself a
little more, and this time she heard the shattered gasp he let out. He was
quieter than she would have thought, but then, Rex had always been contained,
in every field but the field of battle. She wondered if she could get him to
cry out.
It seemed to go easier, the farther she went. Her body, already adjusted to his
girth, needed now only to adjust to his length, a much less daunting prospect.
She followed her body’s demands and slid the rest of the way, until the insides
of her thighs lay flush against his hips and she swore his cock was burning a
line of fire all the way up her spine. She shuddered. She arched her back, her
lekku undulating to the side in waves to bare her throat. Rex still had his
death grip on her hips.
The reality of it hit her, then: he was inside her, she could feel the throb of
his heartbeat in the very core of her. She sighed, heavy-lidded; the Force was
thick, eddying against the sheer weight of feeling flowing between them.
“Rex,” she said, overcome at the sight of his Force-signature. Already she was
closer to orgasm than she had gotten by her hand alone; he was blazing to all
her senses, and with a weak shudder, her body clamped down around his, throwing
her into release. It was superficial: an extended shiver that fused her even
closer to Rex, her inner thighs tight against his overwarm body. He stared up
at her with a fierce expression, and she wanted more.
She twitched her hips experimentally, getting used to the new weight that
filled her; she almost went boneless, and braced herself against Rex’s chest.
She was rocking her hips slightly, hardly even aware of it, renewing her
awareness with each shift that she was full, that, Force, that Rex was inside
her. Rex seemed just as overcome by this awareness; his eyes, wide and blown
black, couldn't decide whether to settle on her face or the fusion of their
bodies.
“Fuck,” he gasped, his teeth clenching into his lip with a hiss as Ahsoka
lifted up. She shivered at the sensation of him sliding from her body.
When she sank back down, she swore in that fraction of a moment she was
complete.
It didn't last. She found herself moving faster, rocking on his cock and
fucking herself down on him, until her legs trembled with exertion. She was
chasing something huge, or it was chasing her; the primal memories of her akul-
hunt flooded her body, bypassing her rational mind altogether until she was
moving--he was moving, slamming his hips up to meet hers with enough force to
send bruising judders of pleasure through her pelvis--without shame, in total
abandon, searching for a peak their bodies knew. Ahsoka pulled her hand from
where it was digging into Rex’s chest and reached between her legs, to the
tight, hot-spark nub of her clit. Rex made a shocked noise, and suddenly he was
arching, dragging her against him with crushing force. She felt him twitch deep
inside her, and then a rush of heat, and that was it: she pressed her fingers
against her slippery, clenching core and she clamped down on him hard enough to
bring stars to her eyes. She cried out; he made a weak groan. They held
themselves locked together, muscles straining against the agony of release.
“Still afraid?” Ahsoka gasped, when all that was left were the aftershocks.
Rex stared up at her wordlessly, his face flushed and his expression slack.
Ahsoka shifted to the side, easing herself off of him. He was still hard,
though wilting somewhat; he was slick with their commingled juices. Ahsoka
herself felt… liquidy. The aftermath, she decided, was not nearly as fun as the
sex itself.
“Commander, I--”
She looked over, startled by the sudden formality, and Rex had sat up, hunching
in on himself a little as though to protect his vulnerable spots. His eyes were
sorrowful. Guilty. “I’m--”
“Whatever you're going to say, don't say it,” Ahsoka said quickly. The very
last thing she wanted was to hear that he regretted it, because she hadn't.
Force help her, but she hadn't regretted it one bit.
“I’ll accept whatever discipline you see necessary, Commander,” he insisted, a
stubborn expression on his face.
Ahsoka’s heart plummeted to her feet. The warmth of the afterglow suddenly felt
like poison in her chest, and she said, before she could persuade herself not
to, “Was it that bad?”
He looked away, looking awkward in a way she recognized from the newest
recruits, but had never seen in Rex. It was the uncertainty of the little boy
he really was, underneath all the training and experience.
“It was--I mean.” He shifted forward and put his arms over his knees. “It was…
really. Really good,” he finally finished, with a shy glance up to her before
flicking his gaze away. His expression twisted. “For me.”
“Then what…” Ahsoka shook her head. “I don't understand. Why’s that bad?”
“Because I used you.” His eyes glanced at the slick trail running down her
thigh even now, and he looked away with a shudder. His Force presence throbbed
unpleasantly.
Ahsoka sat back on her heels. “I don't think I remember what you remember,” she
said with a frown. “I remember--” her stomach fluttered at the memory, “I
remember pushing you down and riding you into next week.”
He picked at his knuckles nervously. Something was eating at him, she saw it,
now. Something dark and bitter and self-recriminatory. “Rex, what's wrong?” She
reached out to touch him, but he flinched away.
“You don't have to play polite, sir,” he said. “It's easier if you don't.”
“What’s easier!”
“I hurt you!” he burst out, glaring at the floor in front of him. “I hurt you,
and I didn't even stop.”
She stared at him, utterly taken aback. The disconnect between his words and
her experience was so vast that she couldn't even process what he had said, for
a moment. When the credit finally dropped, she almost laughed.
“Rex,” she said, “you didn't hurt me.”
“Commander, please.”
“Look at me. I said look at me, Captain.”
Slowly, he did, his expression blank and his shoulders tense.
“You did not hurt me. I promise you.”
His careful mask slipped into confusion. “But--you yelled.”
“Oh. Well…” She felt herself blushing. Force, she had the man’s semen running
down the inside of her leg and she was embarrassed because she’d been noisy.
“Well, that was for the same reason you were, I’d imagine.”
His expression was a revelation. “You mean you… women can…?”
“Of course we can,” Ahsoka replied, more than a little affronted. “What, did
you think men were the only ones who got to enjoy sex?”
He flushed a livid red. “I hadn't given it a lot of thought,” he mumbled.
“Wasn't covered in training. Figured my odds of finding anyone willing before I
died were pretty slim.”
Oh. “Well, now you have,” Ahsoka said awkwardly. A rising tide of conflicting
emotions was settling up through her, from sorrow to tenderness, and black rage
at the clones’ situation, ever-present embarrassment, and confusion as well,
because she could feel her body perking up again, stronger than before. She
caught Rex look down at himself with an incredulous eye, and she suspected it
wasn't over for him, either.
“They haven't found us yet,” she said awkwardly.
He looked up at her questioningly.
“You want to give it another go? Slower, maybe?”
The cure will eventually kill you.
Rex seemed uncertain. The heat in Ahsoka’s loins was rising, and this time she
meant to cut it off before it could get too far. She held out a hand.
He tentatively accepted it, his eyes flickering down to the crux of her thighs
before returning to her face. “Can you show me? How to--to make it good.” His
cheeks were red, but his expression was painfully earnest.
The burst of wanting that went through her made her spine turn to water.
Boiling water. She rose to her knees and drew him up to meet her. It was
awkward, being so close in another’s space. He was still hard, the head of his
cock brushing against her belly. Ahsoka knew only the basics of Human
sexuality, but she thought that might be unusual. She bit her lip. “Well,” she
said, and stroked a hand over his shaft. He shuddered, swaying toward her; he
was slick, though it was starting to dry. Ahsoka gasped in sympathy with him, a
bolt of pleasure pounding through her at his response. He was quiet, stoic as
always, but his Force signature was writhing. She felt it pressing against her,
plucking at her own. “I'm no expert,” she said. “All I know is myself and a
little of the pan-species sex-ed they gave us at the Temple. But I'm willing to
bet that the basic principles that apply to you also apply to me.” She leaned
forward, her breasts pressing against his chest, and laid a kiss against his
neck. “Touch is good.” Another kiss, a little more firm. “Gently, then faster
and harder the farther you go.” His smell was so thick here, musky and rich and
compelling. She stroked upward on his erection, and he said, barely a breath of
air behind it, “Gods.”
With her other hand she stroked down his arm, feeling the goosebumps that rose,
and took his hand in hers. “Here,” she said, and tucked him between her thighs.
“Gods,” he said again, a little louder, as he touched the mess of fluids
leaking from her. He ran tentative fingers up her thigh, and over her sensitive
lips; she gave a high, breathy sigh as he slipped between them, to the tender
flesh behind. Her hips rocked against his hand. His fingers pushed back, toward
her opening; they blazed with heat, and she gasped as he slipped them inside
her. It was good--but she had better uses for them.
“Here,” she said, urging him to pull free, guiding him back to the little nub
of her clit. “Right there, you feel that?”
Rex stroked tentatively, clearly uncertain as to what she meant, and the
callused pad of his finger swept square over her clit.
“There!” Ahsoka squeaked, her body quaking against the stab of pleasure. “Do
that again.”
He did, and gaining similar reactions, began, as any good soldier would, to
reconnoiter the terrain. Ahsoka bucked against him, her hips moving of their
own accord; Rex pressed his thumb against the nub, rubbing it gently back into
her body, and the sheer weight of sensation threw Ahsoka into orgasm. Her leg
spasmed to the side as she rode it out, struck boneless by the force of her
pleasure. Rex eased her to the ground, murmuring softly in a deep, rasping
voice. “I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” When she finally opened her eyes, he was
looking down at her, a little pleased, a little surprised; she sensed the
fading trails of his shock dissipating.
“Just like that,” she said quietly, caught by the strange intimacy between
them. Rex’s fingers were damp against her thigh; the scent of sex was heavy in
the air. She wanted more. She had a cramp in the back of her thigh and her abs
felt hollow, but she wanted more.
“Can I--” Rex closed his eyes on a shaky sigh, and when he opened them, Ahsoka
saw how dilated his eyes were. He looked like he was three days out on a binge
of downers. “Would it be alright if we--”
“Yes,” Ahsoka said, and dragged him down into a kiss. He whimpered against her
lips and she wrapped her legs around him. His cock dragged clumsily against her
thigh, then over her cunt; he slipped against for a couple of helpless thrusts
before he fumbled a hand between their bodies and held himself steady. The
prodding, bulbous head of his cock against her folds tore a sigh, not quite a
moan, from her throat. He pushed inside easier than before, the way more
lubricated and stretched to accommodate his girth. Ahsoka had heard of the
preoccupation boys had with penis size; she had little practical experience,
but Rex felt more than large enough to her. She locked her ankles behind him,
trapping him in place. He ducked his head down against her shoulder, fine
tremors wracking through his body. They stayed there for a moment, just
breathing, their bellies pressing together on their inhales, Rex’s sweat
dripping down her skin. Ahsoka ran a hand over the bristle of his hair, before
stroking the base of his head; he shuddered, and she ran her other hand
soothingly up and down his back. She was consumed by a slow spread of tender
feeling to have this man in her arms, beside himself and shaking. His hips
stuttered, dragging his cock in a disjointed rhythm. Ahsoka reached for his ass
and dragged him closer, driving him deeper, and with a reedy groan, Rex began
to thrust.
It was almost too much. So close on the heels of her previous orgasm, the
weight and stinging heat of him filling her drove her mad. She felt tears track
down over her temples, over montrals. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Rex whispered,
his voice broken, even as he drove harder into her with each stroke. Ahsoka
clutched at his back, pulling him to her. She tried to reassure him, but every
thought had fled, and she couldn't seem to draw a full breath. It was moving
past pleasure and into the tight pain of desperation. She cried out in sheer
overwhelmed want.
He froze, an exertion of will she could barely comprehend. “Ahsoka?”
“Move,” she snarled, and fucked her hips up, impaling herself on him. It was
just what she needed. She tipped over the edge, spasming and rippling around
him, his hard length the perfect goad to her pleasure. By the time the sparks
cleared her vision, he was whimpering and thrusting against her, his rhythm
broken by desperation. Then he froze again, every muscle tightening as the
slick heat of his spend filled her, and his groan vibrated through her
montrals. When it eased, he pressed his forehead against her shoulder, panting.
He didn't pull out or pull away, and he didn't soften.
There was no doubt about it, now. The ease that orgasm had brought the first
time was diminished. Ahsoka was tired and aching, but her body demanded more.
“Think we’re in trouble, Rex ol’ boy,” she said faintly. She ran a hand over
his sweat-soaked hair. It felt like velvet.
He let out a squeezed-sounding moan as her body fluttered around him. He pushed
up onto his elbows. “Think you might be right.” There was a dark, worried look
in his eye.
It descended into a waking dream, flushed red and illuminated by the dim green-
and-yellow light of her sabers. Ahsoka might have said it was a dream come
true, she’d spent enough time sighing at the thought of Rex joining her in her
tiny bunk aboard the Resolute, but this was closer to a nightmare. She was
surrounded by Rex, he was wholly focused on her, but it wasn’t enough, and what
she got was agonizing. And judging by the small, hurting noises he couldn’t
restrain, he wasn’t enjoying it, either.
But they couldn’t stop.
Time ceased to have meaning. There was only now: endless Now that was different
positions and techniques as first muscles cramped and then tissues went dry.
And still, they couldn’t stop.
For one endless stretch of Now, she and Rex merely rocked against each other,
pressing their hips together as though they might press bone through the
fragile layers of skin, until they surely bruised with how long they stayed
together, wracked by an endless stream of orgasms that did nothing to abate the
want. They were dry spasms, now. There was none of the liquid pleasure of
before; Ahsoka’s muscles ached, she tried to cry, but no tears came. The scent
of sweat and sex was heavy in the air, and her fingers slipped over Rex’s back,
but when she looked at her hands over his shoulders, there was dark, clotted
red beneath her fingernails, matching the marks scored down his back. Her neck
stung with the mark of his teeth, and she tasted his blood against her own.
They couldn’t stop.
Ahsoka didn’t see when her master tore through the cave wall, moving tons of
rock by sheer force of his fear. She didn't hear the shouting.
All she knew was that suddenly Rex was gone, and every cell in her body rose up
in protest. Later, she would have no memory of challenging her own master like
a nexu for her mate. Control of the Force was beyond her; rational thought was
impossible.
It was a mercy when a wave of her master’s hand drove her unconscious. She
crumpled, unaware, to the ground.
***
She awoke to the Force. Gray fog surrounded her, but a familiar presence was
waiting--her master. There was urgency in his Force signature. He needed her.
She followed him out of the haze, and a dozen other presences joined his,
pressing on her mind, drowning out her loosely-spun thoughts, deafening her.
“Focus, Ahsoka,” her master said. “Your shields are down.” Delicate tendrils of
power wrapped around hers, reminding her the way. She fumbled, unable to
maintain the concentration she needed. “Let me.” She relinquished control with
something like a sigh, and he wove a protective shield around her. The chaos
dimmed. Soft beeping took its place. She opened her eyes.
“Welcome back,” Master Skywalker said, relief plain in his smile.
She swallowed through a dry throat. “Whr’m I?”
“The Resolute’s medbay.”
That wasn't right. Rust-red stone and dusty, claustrophobic tunnels lingered
fresh in the back of her mind. “G’nosis?”
Master Skywalker’s Force signature went taut. “It's handled. You're safe, now.”
Descending LAAT/is. Men rappelling from above, bobbing in the mist. Making bets
over comms. A sense of trapped helplessness. Vindi’s manic laughter--
“Vindi?”
“We got him.” Violent triumph stained the Force yellow and sickly red. “He's in
an airlock for transport.”
She relaxed into the bed. Something about her master’s reaction was unsettling,
but she could barely keep one thought in place, let alone articulate a full
sentence. She was off-balance, a presence was missing from her side--
Memory surged. “Rex,” she gasped, lurching up from the bed.
“Whoa, steady!”
“Where's Rex, is he okay--”
“You're both--you’re both fine--”
“Where is he!”
Master Skywalker placed his hands on either side of her face and held her
steady. “Ahsoka,” he said in a firm voice. “Calm down.”
She stared into his eyes and shook. Memory assaulted her. Her own body--she
shouldn't have moved, she felt raw between her legs, her neck and lekku and
breasts were sore and swollen. Her muscles cramped and trembled. “Where is he,”
she whispered.
“M’right here, Commander,” came his quiet, rasping voice.
Ahsoka broke away from her master’s grip and turned to see. Rex was in the bed
next to hers, looking as drained and exhausted as she felt. Heavy circles
underlined his eyes. His veins stood out on his arms. Bandages crept up his
neck from beneath the collar of his medical gown. He was hooked to an IV, like
she was, and his Force signature was muted, drawn in on itself, like he was
recovering from a serious injury or powerful emotional blow.
Her eyes stung like she was going to cry, but no tears came out. “I'm s-sorry.”
Rex shook his head. “Don't be. I'm not sure either of us could have stopped
it.”
“But I--I pushed you--”
“It was the toxin,” he said firmly. Like that was the end of it.
Ahsoka settled back in her bed. “The commandos?” she asked, scraping through
the debris of her scattered thoughts.
Master Skywalker broke in. “We found them before we found you. They were in a
cell off of Vindi’s lab…” he trailed off, his Force signature turning queasy
and thick. “They’d been dosed by the same thing you were. They’d… they'd been
exposed to it for at least three days.”
“Did they survive?” This from Rex.
“Yeah.” Master Skywalker swallowed. “They did.” He didn't say it like he was
glad for it.
Ahsoka went over her jagged, pain-etched memories, and she didn't think she was
glad, either.
Kix came from nowhere, tapping Master Skywalker on the shoulder. “They need to
rest, sir.”
“Right. Do what you need to.”
Ahsoka watched as Kix injected something into her IV, then did the same for
Rex.
“I’ll stay until she falls asleep,” she heard her master say. “Her shields are
a mess. Comm me as soon as she wakes up.”
“Yes, sir.”
She didn't pay attention. She stared at the sharp line of Rex’s jaw and fell
back into gray fog.
***
It took sixty-three hours to get to Coruscant from Geonosis. Ahsoka spent all
of them in a drugged sleep. She found out later that Kix and Anakin had used it
to move her to her quarters. Her wounds weren't imminently dangerous, just
uncomfortable and embarrassing; they needed the bed freed up more than she
needed around-the-clock care.
She was glad. She wasn't sure she could look Rex in the face, anymore.
The 501st was nominally given two weeks of leave, an absolute luxury in the
midst of the war, though they spent it in orbit over Coruscant, patching holes
in the planetary defense. Ahsoka spent it completing the assignments she'd been
neglecting. She wasn't cleared for physical training, and meditation invariably
skewed sideways into memories of the cave, so she buried herself in galactic
history instead, finishing every reading and essay that Anakin and Master
Kenobi had assigned, and a few more that Jocasta Nu offered at her inquiry. If
dates and facts were bouncing around her mind, then memories of Rex’s mouth
against her skin couldn't take their place.
Kix came in at one point to give her a run-down of her injuries, because her
stupid master had gone green in the face and run away when she had asked.
“The worst of it is a spectacular case of genital chafing,” Kix said, as
unaffected and unembarrassed as every other medic and healer Ahsoka had known.
She was pitifully grateful; she just wished he looked less like Rex. “There
were other, more minor injuries--bites, scratches, bruises, gravel rash, and
the like. On the upside, both you and Rex were clean, so you didn't give each
other anything but the toxin--”
“You're sure it's gone?” Ahsoka had asked.
“Extremely sure, sir. We ran you both through dialysis twice, and your
neutransmitter scans are reading one hundred percent normal. As far as we can
tell, you won't experience any lingering side-effects, either.”
She relaxed for the first time in days.
“You're also not pregnant. The odds were slim, but just in case you were
wondering.”
She hadn't been. It hadn't even occurred to her. Cold horror spilled through
her at the idiocy of her past self. The toxin may have been to blame, but she
hadn't used her brain all. What would it have done to Rex if he'd gotten her
pregnant?
The worst part was that she didn't entirely regret her actions. There was a
secret, terrible part of her that refused to forget how Rex sounded when he
came, and exulted in the knowledge that she was the first girl he'd kissed. She
had tried to talk to Anakin about it, but he shied away, a hunted, red-cheeked
look on his face; she’d tried meditation, but her psyche was a battleground.
She'd opened herself to something in the cave, and she felt too frail and
unsteady to face it. She pushed it away and became so studious that even Master
Nu commented on it. She avoided Rex, too. It wasn't very hard; technically she
was still on bedrest, and it was easy enough to limit her interactions with him
to brief messages on the holopad.
She wondered how he was doing. Did he have trouble sitting down, too? What was
he telling his brothers? Was he having as hard a time forgetting as she was?
Does he miss me like I miss him? the shameful part of her wondered. She didn't
give herself the opportunity to find out.
As soon as she could walk without wincing, the Resolute was deployed to parts
unknown.
***
“Ahsoka,” Anakin said. He looked hideously uncomfortable, which meant whatever
he was going to say either involved private stuff, sex stuff, or “girl stuff,”
and meant that Master Kenobi had probably put him up to it.
“Yes?” she replied, not feeling remotely ready to handle the conversation or
her master’s delicate sensibilities. She was pretty sure she knew what it was
about, anyway.
“You and Rex.”
She sighed.
“You haven't been the same. Since, uh, Geonosis.”
They hadn't. It was awful in a multitude of ways, but Ahsoka didn't know what
to do. Every time she looked at Rex an ugly lump of confused emotions curdled
in her belly. His presence in the Force was more pulled back from her than it
had ever been, held in such rigid control she couldn't even surface read his
emotions. She hadn't seen his face since she'd woken in the medbay.
Anakin was examining the bulkhead over her shoulder with great intensity. “It's
affecting the efficiency of battalion operations.”
It had. A military unit couldn't function when the chain of command was broken.
“I need you to sort it out.”
Ahsoka jerked up to stare at her master, and found that he was staring back,
his blue eyes solemn and serious. His cheeks were still pink, but now that he’d
pushed through the awkwardness, he was driven.
“This is serious, Ahsoka. We have a war to win, and we can't do it if my senior
officers won't talk to each other.”
“We talk,” Ahsoka protested. “We talk every day.”
“Saying ‘Please pass the stylus’ is not talking,” Anakin said, warming to the
subject. “Whatever’s between you, I need you to work it out. And, I can't
believe I'm actually going to say this, but you need to meditate. Badly. Before
we get to Ord Mantell.”
Ahsoka stared at the floor, tears pricking at her eyes. “Yes, Master.”
“Good. That’s… good. I’ll see you on the bridge when we enter the system.” Her
master hightailed it out of the corridor, leaving Ahsoka with an impossible
task. She breathed through her reflexive panic and made herself confront her
emotions.
She was embarrassed. Why was she embarrassed? Because she had shown something
vulnerable about herself, and she was afraid Rex had rejected it. She was
afraid. Why was she afraid? Because she didn’t want Rex to reject her. She
didn’t want to lose him. She… had feelings that were not going away. What
feelings? Inappropriate feelings toward her captain. What feelings? She… wanted
it again. She, she wanted to--she wanted so badly to peel him out of his armor
and take him up against the nearest bulkhead. She had hoped that would have
ended with the toxin. Why? Because she was ashamed. Why was she ashamed?
Because she had taken advantage of him. She had pushed past his boundaries and
put her wants above his.
“Commander, are you alright?”
She yanked out of her reverie to face the clone who had addressed her. She
didn’t know him; he wore a mechanic’s coveralls and the sides of his head were
shaved into thin lines. “Yes,” she said. “Thank you.”
“Not a problem, sir. You looked worried.”
Ahsoka summoned a smile. “Just worried about a term paper,” she said.
“Specialist…?”
“Wrench,” he said, his cheeks pinkening over a shy smile. “I hope it goes
well.”
“Thank you, Wrench,” she said, and he saluted.
“Anytime, sir.”
She watched him walk down the corridor. Standing here was gaining her nothing.
Her master was right; she needed to resolve this now, before it grew worse. She
hit Rex’s comm code and ducked into the nearest storage closet.
“Commander Tano,” came his tinny voice from the speaker. “What do you need,
sir?”
Ahsoka pressed her hand against the hollow ache in her chest. “Could you meet
me in my quarters, Captain? We have some issues we need to resolve between us.”
Silence weighed on the comms. Ahsoka found herself listening like the pilots
said they sometimes did in deep space, as though Rex’s response was the sirens
waiting on the far side of the signal.
“Yes, sir. I’ll be there in ten.” The line went dead. Ahsoka’s stomach tied
itself into a knot.
“You can do this,” she said to the rolls of toilet paper stacked overhead.
Rex got there before she did, unstinting in his duty and probably unassailed by
bouts of panic in the hallway. Anakin was right; Ahsoka needed to meditate, but
she didn’t think she’d be able to until after she got this over with. Now that
she had decided to make it happen, it sat heavy in her future, a crossroads
that waited to be met.
Rex was waiting in the corridor at parade rest, as if he was standing guard
rotation in front of the magazine. Ahsoka nervously shifted the lay of her
lekku as she approached. She had been helping refuel the fighters, and grease
was smeared over her clothes and skin. Rex had never cared before, but she felt
small and grubby before his blank silence. She cleared her throat.
“Captain.” She tried to make it sound authoritative.
“Sir,” he replied.
More silence. Ahsoka scanned his surface thoughts, but they were closed off,
calm and regulated like they had been on her first day, back when he’d still
thought of her as a burden. She stifled a sigh. The conversation had to be
done, and it couldn’t be done in the hallway. She opened the door and invited
him in.
Ahsoka had had a “no helmet” policy in her quarters for at least a year and a
half, for as long as she had been holding briefings and debriefings for
classified missions. She had never been so grateful for that rule as she was
now when Rex took his off. The door slid shut behind him. He set the helmet
down on the small table in the middle of her office. Ahsoka studied his face;
he looked none the worse for wear. She looked away before she could do
something stupid. Again.
“Captain, I…” She’d thought of what she would say for the entire trip up, but
nothing felt right. Either the words were trite, or they were melodramatic, or
they were too distant for what she knew needed to be said. She swallowed and
decided to wing it. “Rex. I’m sorry.”
“About what, sir?”
“Don’t be dense,” she replied.
He looked away, an unreadable expression on his face. “You don’t need to
apologize,” he finally said.
Yes, I do, came the immediate response, but her lessons with Master Kenobi made
her stop. “Why not?”
“You weren’t any more in control of… yourself than I was. It would have
happened anyway.”
He wasn’t wrong. And yet… “I still feel responsible,” she said. “I pressed you.
As commanding officer, I should have--I can’t help feeling as though I should
have done something else. Something better.”
“You did what you could, sir.”
She gazed at him. He was picking at the edge of the table rather than look at
her, and she realized she still had no idea what he was thinking, let alone
feeling. There had to be as many layers to his perception of their actions in
the cave as there were to hers, and until they both peeled their barriers back,
there was no way they could possibly reach reconciliation.
“Battalion performance is down,” she said quietly, squaring her shoulders and
placing her hands behind her back. “And it’s because we won’t talk to each
other. So, we have to talk to each other.”
A muscle flexed in Rex’s jaw. “About what. Sir.”
She had never hated how he called her “sir,” before. The memory of his voice
shaking on her name curled vividly through her mind. “Something happened
between us in the cave. And it changed our perception of each other. We have to
figure out how to work past the awkwardness, or we’ll never work functionally
together again.” Ahsoka looked down to the table between them. “And… I don’t
want that.” She bit her lip, then said it anyway. “Do you?”
He glanced up at her, then away, his brow furrowing. “No.” He said it quietly.
Like it was a damning admission. The first hints of cracks in his mental armor
showed in the Force, and Ahsoka let out a shaking breath.
“Okay,” she said. “Okay.”
“I thought you were angry,” Rex blurted. His cheeks flushed. “You never--you
were so blank whenever I saw you, your messages were always so short.” He
rubbed the back of his neck. “I thought… I don’t know what I thought.”
“You thought I felt betrayed,” Ahsoka said slowly, a dawning realization
sweeping through her. “You thought you had hurt me, and that I was angry, and
that I never wanted to see you again.”
His golden head was bent with shame. She felt it clearly, his shame coiling
through the Force like it was her own. “Yeah, that’s. Pretty much it.”
“Rex.” She stepped around the table and reached out to take his hands. “I’m not
angry at you. I don’t feel betrayed, and you didn’t hurt me any more than I
hurt you.” She peered up into his eyes, his dear and gentle eyes. “Everything
that you felt? That you thought I felt? I felt the same. I thought you were
angry at me, Rex. I thought I had betrayed your trust, that I had hurt you.”
She squeezed his hands, unsure what else to say.
He stared at her like she’d grown another lek. “But…” He shook his head. “That
doesn’t make any sense, sir.”
She shrugged. “It’s how I felt. Looks like we were both afraid for no reason.”
He stared down at her, taking in the grease stains and goggles. He carefully
untangled their hands and stepped back, putting a respectable distance between
them again. “That’s not all of it,” he said to the table.
Ahsoka’s heart sank. “What else is there?”
He closed his eyes, and a spasm of bone-deep pain came over his expression
before he smoothed it away. “I don’t--you should know, if we’re going to work
together. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“Know what?” She took a step closer without thinking. “What would make me
uncomfortable?”
“I still want you,” he grated out, a tortured twist to his brow.
Heat flushed through Ahsoka’s body, roaring down her spine and coiling in her
chest and loins. “Me too,” she blurted. “I haven’t stopped thinking about it, I
can’t seem to stop--”
His head jerked up, a desperate look on his face. “Do you think the toxin is
still affecting us?”
Ice chased the heat away, and Ahsoka was left standing frozen in her study,
staring down the possibility that the man she wanted didn’t want her in return.
It felt like a blow to the stomach. “I don’t think it is,” she said. “Kix knows
what he’s doing. But.” She swallowed. “It can if you want.”
Terrible, heavy, tangible silence fell between them. Her lessons with Master
Kenobi rose to her mind again, and Ahsoka forced herself to say, “I would like
for nothing more than to fall in love with you, Rex, but if you would rather
that not happen, then… we can still be affected by the toxin.”
There. She had laid out her cards. She felt naked from the soul out, but at
least Rex knew where she stood.
He was silent for a long time. So long that Ahsoka’s fragile hopes began to
crumble beneath the weight of it. Her lekku pulled in close about her neck and
she gripped her hands so tightly her fingers hurt.
“Commander, I… Ahsoka.”
The sound of her name on his lips sent a shiver down her spine. She mustered
the last shred of her courage and looked up at him. His eyes were dark and
wondering, an uncoiling sense of connection rolling through the Force, like the
solution to a puzzle or the last wire of a starfighter repair job tripping all
the systems in line. He reached out to her and laid a gloved hand against her
cheek, so tenderly she thought she might cry. He slid his fingers beneath her
lek, cupping her face, the heat of his skin burning through nanoprene, and
Ahsoka felt so light she knew she could move a whole planet with the Force if
she only felt the need.
“I have no idea what I’m doing,” he said softly.
“That’s okay,” she said, equally breathless. “I don’t either.”
“Are you sure about this?”
“No. Let’s do it anyway.”
When their lips touched, she swore the Force sang.
***
END
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