#alpharex

The cantina is in the middle of nowhere. It hangs from the face of a tall cliff, and it stinks of seawater and mildew and something salty and rotten that reminds Rex of his childhood. Many meters below he can see the waves, grey and green and freezing. They roar and whine against the cliffs, and they’re so loud that he can sense the noise they make when they break against the rock through the thick soles of his boots.

He’s been making his way through the Outer Rim, and he’s almost out of credits and starving, feeling lost and hurt and exhausted and alone. When he sees his own face staring at him, at first he’s sure he’s imagining it--but then the familiar mouth smiles, and then the stranger isn’t one anymore.

Rex blinks. He can hear the sea and he tastes saltwater on his lips and Alpha-17 is there, sitting at the table in the corner, back to the wall and sprawling on his chair, smirking at him, and for half a thought Rex can’t tell where he is. 

He swallows, and 17’s smirk widens.