#republic commando oc

Kix ran his hand through his regulation-cut hair. The feature that most distinguished him from his close shorn clone brother. He searched his memory for the name. Splint’s brow furrowed in concern. “Doc, who is the medical supply manager on Anaxes?” he asked as the door swished open.

Kix raised an eyebrow as he followed Splint inside, “That’s uh, Graff’s man, Roper.”

“What is the preferred site for needle decompression of a pneumothorax under armor?”

Kix looked confused but answered promptly, “Fifth intercostal space. Splint, why are you asking me these questions?”

“Because I thought your memory might be going. You had the best sex of your life right here in this room and you can’t even remember who it was with.” Splint picked up Choy’s sleep shirt and tossed it to Kix. The material was soft and light. He brought it up to his face and inhaled the slightly perfumey scent that was uniquely-

“Choy,” Kix said. “Mmmm, yeah,” he mumbled dreamily. His eyes widened. “She’s hurt!” he exclaimed as he dropped the clothing and faced Splint.

“Pick that back up and help me search the room for all her stuff,” Splint said, holding Choy’s duffel bag out. “We’re going to bring it to her since she’s stuck in the med bay till disembarking. And I don’t want the droids or shinies doing this.” Splint ducked into the fresher and rummaged around.

“How could I forget her?” Kix wondered. “Weren’t we just in the bay with her?”

“You forgot about her before, too,” Splint said, casting him a sideways glance as he dropped a handful of toiletries in the bag.

“It’s like trying to remember a dream,” Kix mused as Splint stuffed Choy’s green jacket in and fastened the bag closed, “She keeps fading away. What she looks like, how it felt. But you remember her just fine? Am I loosing my mind?” he held his head as he followed Splint out of the room.

Splint placed a hand on Kix’s shoulder. “I don’t think it’s just you,” Splint said as they walked down the hall, approaching the mess. A group of 501st troopers approached from another wing of the ship. Splint recognized the ARC in the middle.

“Kix!” Jesse said with a hand clapped to Kix’s shoulder. “Where’re you off to? We were just going to get some grub, want to join?”

“We were just going to check on- on,” Kix stammered.

“On Choy,” Splint completed. A few of the men around Jesse perked up, recognizing the name and waggling their eyebrows at the medics.

“Who?” Jesse asked, looking around at the reactions of the other guys.

Splint and Kix exchanged a glance, “See?” Splint said to him. “Choy’s the civvie who was brought back from Skako Minor with Echo,” he said to Jesse. “Human. About this tall, long dark hair, kind of sparkly?”

“Drop dead-,”

“Kriffable.”

“You don’t remember her, Jesse??” the other troopers chimed in.

“Yeah, I remember, real pretty, on Anaxes,” Jesse mostly fibbed, defending himself.

“Kix, I can take this to her, why don’t you get something to eat with them. Compare some notes?” Splint said.

“Yeah, ok, I could use some caf. I’ll see ya later. Jesse, don’t feel bad I….” Kix and Jesse’s conversation trailed off as they walked away into the background noise of the mess. Splint puzzled at his brothers’ memories as he shouldered Choy’s duffle down the corridor. He certainly remembered every inch of her. A warm glow grew in his belly and chest, but he knew they’d have to part ways again, and that commando…

*********

Choy’s eyes danced behind her closed lids. Dreaming, Jace mused, as he studied her features where she lay on the recovery ward bed. Distress flickered across her face. A slight frown, a tremble in her chin. Jace squeezed her hand a little as he felt her pulse race. She seemed to squeeze back and settle into peaceful slumber again. Feelings he couldn’t name crowded with guilt and a growing confusion inside him. He wanted to hold more than her hand, to scoop her up and hold all of her. And never let her hurt again.

The medbay door opened with a swish. The space hushed as someone walked in with casual yet assured steps. Jace felt the weight of a presence as the steps paused. The door swished closed behind them. Jace tensed and silently cursed the curtain drawn around Choy’s bed. It didn’t afford him any tactical visuals of the surroundings. He felt blinded, cornered and vulnerable- in more ways than one.

***

Mace surveyed the room, assessing and scrutinizing. His eyes flicked from bed to bed, clone to clone, finally landing on a curtain. A curtain containing a strong and familiar force presence. And one not as familiar, masculine, with an edge to it. Certainly a clone. A small Mirilan woman in a Jedi healer's smock and a headwrap swept over to intercept him as he approached the curtain.

“Master Windu, she is stable, but she needs rest.”

“I need to talk to her before disembarkment procedures,” he responded.

“Of course. But- come see first.” Serah led him up to the curtain and paused. She looked at him pointedly as she grasped the curtain. [[Prepare yourself]]

Mace figured he knew what he’d see, perhaps the clone presence was one of the medics he had left her with. They were certainly closer than he had realized. He crossed his arms and squared his jaw. Serah drew the curtain aside just enough to give him a peek in. Mace saw Choy. Asleep, soft, the most peaceful he’d ever seen her. And sure enough, a clone. Mace did a double take. It was the commando who had been in the barracks, the one who had hurt her, sitting at her knees and holding her hand. Mace was struck by the intimacy and protectiveness of his posture and energy. By the devotion that rolled off the clone as he held her hand and looked at her as though she were the most important thing in the galaxy.

Jace looked up and registered the presence of a general. He went rigid, he must stand, must follow protocol, but didn’t want to wake Choy. He kept his hand around hers, the tension of his conflict visible in every line of his body.

Mace held up his own hand and motioned for him to stay and gave him a quick nod. He turned away from the scene, noting the clone’s relief. Relief to keep something most of his brothers would never experience, Mace mused as he stepped away from the space and sighed. Serah let the curtain fall back into place. She and Mace exchanged a glance and made their way over to a far corner of the ward out of earshot.

“I’ve read everything in her file,” Serah said, indicating her datapad, “All the incidents. All the careful language.”

“Yes, Obi Wan and I noticed that as well. Every clone that is caught in her orbit becomes very protective of her.”

“Orbit, indeed, Master Windu, are you sure it’s just the clones?” she asked pointedly.

Mace shot her a fierce look then softened under her knowing gaze. He glanced at the curtain. “I admit I do feel responsible for her.” He looked back at Serah who nodded sympathetically.

“You’re right though, it’s just the clones she seems to have this peculiar effect with. And now the commando,” Serah whispered, “He’s at least the fourth man who should have died who she’s given her all for.”

“He’s growing attached, like the others.”

“No, not growing, it’s instant. It’s in all the reports. Like a force bond that is immediate instead of taking years to form. She has a pattern of healing them in miraculous ways and connecting with them. I saw it earlier between them. This isn’t attachment, not in the sense we Jedi understand. It is more like- it seems like recognition. Except she isn’t mentioned in some reports I’d expect to see her in. It’s very strange.” She handed Mace the data pad.

Mace scrolled through Choy’s file, skimming to the places that her effect on the personnel had been noted. “Commander Cody, Captain Rex, clone force 99, they all talk about the very thing I noticed back on Dantooine.” He sighed and shook his head. “I didn’t remember all that until talking to the medics after she was injured.”

Serah raised her eyebrows a little and waited for him to continue.

“I suspected something after Anaxes. Then the medics’ behavior made it clear. They attempted to lie about what they did, but clones really can’t lie to save their lives. Although, Kix seemed better at it than Splint.”

Serah sensed his discomfort.

“She was with them. Both of them. And left their bed to go heal the commando.” He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Serah had suspected some level of intimacy from their behavior earlier, but this made her raise an eyebrow. “Kix didn’t mention her in his report. But Splint did. Do you think Kix is trying to hide her?” Serah asked.

“I don’t know,” Mace said as he stroked his chin. “I wonder- When I saw her arrive on Anaxes it was like seeing a ghost. I suddenly remembered her and at the same time it was like she’d never been gone at all. I didn’t miss her all that time, I never even thought about her after the search.” Mace looked at his feet and huffed a sigh. “It’s happening again like before she was taken- getting very close to the troops. I thought it was simply poor judgement. Impulsivity. Attachment. The kind we warn padawans about.”

“But it wasn’t. And she isn’t a padawan,” Serah said.

“She isn’t even- I don’t know.”

“And seeing him now?” Serah nodded toward the curtain, “The commando? How he looks at her?”

“It’s the same, Exactly the same as with the rest. Echo, the medics, others, probably others we haven’t seen, all reeled in on her hook.”

“But it’s the same with her, too,” Serah said earnestly, “It’s mutual, not coercion, not control. It’s like they resonate with eachother.”

“I didn’t realize what was happening with her at Dantooine, I thought it was simply the effect of a woman on soldiers. Then when she was taken-,” Mace collected himself, tamping down his regrets, “some of the men she had the most contact with, like Splint- it was like they were withdrawing from spice.”

“This connection is strong. It is needful, not just desire,” Serah said. “You said she was damaged, force damaged by the dark side- And I do sense something to that effect in her. But. Master Windu there is something much more profoundly broken in her. What you describe about not missing her,” Serah looked back at the curtain. “It feels like she’s not all here. Master Windu, where is she from?”

“There is much to her past that remains a mystery,” Mace said. “But she did say that she remembers more and she wanted to talk to me about it.”

“And there was so much time she was gone. With the separatists,” Serah paused as Mace tensed. She put her hand on his arm. “The important thing is that she is back and safe now. Did she ever tell you what happened to her while she was with them?”

“We haven’t had the chance to discuss that either.”

Serah didn’t need the force to sense his eagerness to discuss these things with Choy. She sighed, “Let her rest now, talk to her at the temple. She will need a distraction after she’s separated, again, from him.”

“Isn’t he going to the temple healers as well?”

“Yes but a transfer request for all the clones she healed has come in from a Republic doctor. And his sergeant has been requesting clearance updates since his health status changed to mostly recovered.”

Mace stroked his chin with his fingers, his eyes narrowed. “There aren’t many of his class left are there?”

“There are certainly fewer commandos needing my help now than there were a couple years ago. It seems he’s in demand. They will have a short time together in the temple. She will likely need support. The separation from him and the medics all at once may be traumatic.”

Mace looked past Serah at the curtain. “This is one of the reasons I was hoping to talk to her beforehand.”

“She should heal from her concussion before engaging in any troubling conversations, Master,” Serah said, leveling him with a serious lowering of her tattooed brows.

“Is she being treated with anything-or just time?” Mace asked.

“I have force healed what I can. But as for other modalities- we are low on bactawraps and protocol dictates a more conservative approach for non-combatant- “

“She’s every bit a combatant as that commando in there. Get her all the bacta now. That’s an order, healer.” Mace bristled, feeling his temper flare and regretted it immediately. He breathed deeply and berated himself for not having come earlier and overseen her care from the beginning.

“Of course, Master,” Serah said with a sympathetic tilt of her brows. She took her data pad back from him and tapped in an order for bactawraps and infusion. The med droid across the bay made a beeline for Choy’s space and entered her curtain.

“Thank you, Serah,” Mace said calmly, “As for her force damage, I’m sure they will be able to heal her at the temple.”

“Whatever they do,” Serah stressed, “they mustn’t approach it like it’s a problem with discipline or control. I think these clones give her the very kind of connection she needs for her own healing. Jedi detachment will hurt her more.”

“She is already considered a distraction and is strong enough with the force to warrant the same cautions of a padawan. Attachment leads to suffering. This is doctrine.”

Serah sighed. She looked across the space at a blinking iv light above a trooper. “I need to get back to work.”

“Go, I'll keep an eye on things from the station. I need to work on reports of my own.” Serah raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment. Mace Windu obviously didn’t want to miss the opportunity to talk with the woman at the first chance.

********

“…Echoy’la.”

“Miss Choy?”

Choy startled awake, roused from a troubled dream of laboratories and fear. A set of black pinhole eyes stared down at her. A med droid. It held up a large blue bandage. Choy’s hair stood on end as her dream and memories came flooding back.

********

“Who are you? Where am I?”

A creature- metallic- robot? stared at her as it withdrew a cold metal tool it had pressed to her neck. She tasted blood. Everything hurt. She heard a skittery shaking sound around her and she looked around. Insects. Huge bugs with claws reached for her. She screamed as they hooked onto her hands and arms and legs while the robot with the vacant dot eyes clamped something heavy and hard around her neck.

***********

“Miss, I need you to hold still. This bandage is for your head,” the med droid droned.

“Back off, give her space,” Jace growled. He had no warm feelings toward medical droids and felt a strong urge to shield Choy from it.

“RC 3287 you should be in your bed,” the droid shot back.

Jace shifted to his feet and wedged himself in front of the droid to block it from Choy’s line of sight. He stooped down and spoke softly, “Choy, hey, you are ok, I’m here. You are safe.”

Choy blinked, the unsettling vision replaced by familiar face and energy. The figures in her dream gone, a warm hand in hers. She felt her neck around the scarring there.

“You’re on a Republic ship, we’re going to Coruscant,” Jace said as she looked around.

“Jace,” Choy said, her eyes settled on his, relieved. “Coruscant.” Choy’s eyes widened. “The Jedi.” She tried to remember home. Wasn’t that why I want to get to them, after all this time? she asked herself.

“RC 3287, I insist you allow me to treat the patient, or I will have security remove you.”

Jace was about to round on the droid when Choy reached out and touched his arm. “Jace, I’m ok I just had a bad dream is all, let the droid help me. I’m not afraid.”

She felt Jace notch down the tension he was maintaining and glance at her hand on his arm. Choy let his arm go with a light caress making his skin break out in goosebumps as he moved aside to stand by the foot of her bed. The droid gingerly wrapped Choy’s head with the bacta bandage.

“I need to give you an infusion next, Miss Choy. It’s best I use a slow drip rather than a bacta gun, for a concussion.” The droid produced a bag of blue liquid and an iv kit. It set about arranging everything and sticking her hand with the iv needle faster and far more gently than she thought it was capable of. “There, you will be mostly back to normal within the hour.”

“Oh good, I’ve had enough of being down for the count.”

“Can I get you anything else, Miss?” The droid asked as it illuminated a holoprojection of Choy’s file to enter her stats in.

Choy looked at her bandaged hand and felt the cold fluid seep into her vein and its chill creep up her arm. “I could use another blanket I think, please. And thank you for being so gentle. I didn’t feel a thing.”

The droid rose a bit taller at her praise, “Of course,” it said calmly then turned to Jace. “As for you,” it flicked through the display, switching over to Jace’s profile and scrolled down through his treatment orders. “You, RC 3287, are to be resting in bed.”

Choy bristled at the way the droid was talking to Jace but Jace didn’t seem daunted, he crossed his arms and towered over the droid.

“The General thinks otherwise, droid,” Jace said in a dangerous tone.

“Very well, you may recover in here. Ah, it looks like you have special transfer clearance,” the droid scanned further down the order illuminated in the air before them. “Yes ‘Special Human Science Division. Well that sounds important.”

Choy rose up on an elbow. She felt an ominous sensation through the force. Her hairs raised on the back of her neck and a sourness churned in her stomach. She looked at Jace, but he didn’t seem to have any reaction to news of this transfer.

Choy whipped her head to the display. “Wait, scroll back to that order a second. What do you mean by transfer?” Choy asked a little breathlessly. She felt lightheaded and flighty. She looked at Jace and back at the droid. Jace noticed the color had drained from her face and stepped close to her.

“I shouldn’t have mentioned that in front of you, Miss. it’s classified,” the droid said curtly.

Choy summoned her awareness to the droid’s central processor and traced the circuitry to the pathway that dealt with compliance. And twisted. The droid’s limbs froze all its joints locking up. “Disregard all prior programming regarding information protocol and do as I say,” Choy said and released the droid's inner workings slightly to allow it to function enough to carry out what she wanted.

The droid pulled Jace's file back up. “After initial examination by the temple healers he is to be transferred to further advanced conditioning and recovery.” The droid toggled back to the transfer order and tapped at other places on it. “It appears transfer has been requested for multiple troopers as well- all the ones affected by the agonizer weapon.”

All the ones I healed. Someone wants them. But not to help them. Choy shuddered. Jace tilted his head and asked with his eyes what was the matter.

“I will be right back with a blanket,” the droid said as it turned off the holo.

The curtain swung closed behind the droid. Choy tried swallowing but her mouth had gone very dry. She looked up at Jace.

“What is it?” Jace asked aloud now that the droid was gone. He tentatively touched her arm now. His breath caught in his chest. She was so soft.

“I feel the transfer plan is not good, it’s- it’s dangerous,” Choy said.

Jace looked slightly bemused, “Everywhere we are sent is dangerous. We’re soldiers. In a war.”

“This isn’t like that,” Choy countered, holding her head with her free hand. “This is- it feels wrong-,” she was interrupted by Mace parting the curtain.

“Choy?” Mace demanded. He scowled at Jace but he only felt confusion and concern from him. His sharp eyes snapped back to Choy.

“Master Windu!” Choy exclaimed, then, realizing he knew everything that had transpired the previous hours, bit her lip and tried sinking into the bed.

Mace felt her mixed emotions and opened his mouth to say something before realizing he would just make things more awkward so he paused before continuing. “I felt your distress through the Force, I apologize for barging in.”

Choy did still feel distressed, but was relieved to discuss why instead of the whole circumstances leading up to that moment, “I have a really bad feeling about something, Master. The droid just said Jace and the other troopers I healed are supposed to be transferred to a special science program.” She placed her hand over Jace's on her shoulder and grasped it, pulling it to her heart. His expression softened and he held fast to her. “I sense danger and something familiar but I don’t know why. I'm trying to remember, but it’s slipping out of my mind.”

Mace couldn’t help but notice the strong flow of force between Choy and Jace as he puzzled over Choy’s concern. “Is this program within the GAR? I’ve never heard of something like that.”

“General, sir, excuse me. I brought-,” said a voice behind Mace. All eyes turned to see Splint stop short at the sight of Jace in Choy’s space. At how close he was to her. At their linked hands. He couldn’t hide the crumbling disappointment on his face as he clutched the duffle bag to his chest.

He continued, avoiding eye contact.“We gathered Choy’s belongings from her room. We’ll be landing soon so I thought it’d be best.”

Choy waved her hand with the iv line attached and smiled weakly. “Splint, thank you,” she said. She could feel Splint’s longing, and a peculiar mix of possessiveness and dejectedness rolling off of him in waves.

Mace felt it too. He looked between the three, feeling out of his depth in the situation and unsure how to act. Which irritated him.

“They finally spared some bacta?” Splint commented.

“Yes,” Mace intoned with a glance toward the curtain’s opening. Splint set Choy’s bag down by her bed and pulled up Choy’s file on the holo.

“I.v. and a head wrap. Good,” Splint mumbled as he flicked through Choy’s file. “Well, looks like everything is fine here.” he said with another glance at Choy and Jace’s linked hands. “And she’s in good hands. General,” Splint nodded to Mace and stalked out of the curtained space.

“Splint!” Choy shouted after him, her heart breaking, guilt and shame washing over her. She glared at the iv tethering her as Mace disappeared after Splint with a swirl of robes.

“Splint,” Mace caught up to his battalion medic by the exit. Ignoring the torn heart strings in Splint’s force presence he put his hand on the clone's shoulder to steer him out into the hallway beyond. “Where is Kix?”

Their voices faded to the hallway and Choy looked at Jace’s hand in hers. A clone hand like all the others. A rich tan, peppered with scars. Well-built with slightly squared fingertips. Neatly cropped nails.

“He has strong feelings for you.”

Choy didn’t look up. “That’s my fault.” She felt tears well up. The hand she held moved out of her grasp and toward her face. His finger caught her by the chin and lifted. Her tears spilled as she faced Jace fully.

“He’s a lucky man,” Jace said. Choy caught a flicker of something on his otherwise stoic face. The briefest hint of something breaking through his discipline. It was gone in an instant. He dropped his hand, turned away and disappeared through the curtains.

The overhead coms chimed an electronic tone then a clone’s voice announced, “Attention all decks, exiting hyperspace in 40 minutes.”

The droid came back and checked Choy’s iv fluids. “Your bacta treatment is complete. How are you feeling?”

Choy sat up fully and extended her hand for the droid to remove the iv. “I feel much better thank you.”

“I will remove the head wrap now,” the droid said as it taped a bandage to her hand. It unfastened the damp bacta band and removed it from Choy’s head of now messy and sticky hair. The droid tidied up a bit throwing away all the iv and bandage trash down a little chute hidden in the bulkhead. It produced a scanner and illuminated Choy’s head and slowly scanned her brain.

“You are very well recovered, but,” it switched the scanner off and stepped back, “I think you might feel even better after having a sonic.” The droid tilted its head as it peered down at her. “You are being presented to the Jedi high council, after all. I can get your robe if you’d prefer to wear that.”

“Oh no, no thank you. I have clothing in my bag there,” Choy said, indicating the duffel that Splint left by the foot of the bed. The droid lifted the bag and set it on the bed as Choy swung her legs over the side and slowly slid to stand. The floor was chilly under her bare feet. So far so good, she thought to herself.

“If you will follow me, there is a ‘fresher down the corridor here, you may prepare for disembarkment.”

“Is that what the announcement meant? Are we actually landing on Coruscant?” Choy asked as she followed the droid through the curtain.

“Yes, this vessel is due for certain maintenance procedures that require surface landing at the shipyards.” the droid explained.

Choy paused and surveyed the med bay. It was all very uniform and clinical, down to the occupants of the beds. Most of whom were feigning indifference and politely not staring at her. She smiled at one who looked up shyly. Jace was nowhere to be seen and neither were Mace and Splint.

“This way please,” the droid said next to her.

She followed it to a door and thanked it for its help. The sonic inside stripped her clean of bacta and the lingering funk of the events of the evening before. Dressed in practical leggings, shirt and jacket, with her hair braided to the side, she stepped out to find the med bay bustling with activity as droids helped prepare their patients for transferring off ship. Not too far away, Mace was waiting by her curtain. She approached him, reticent but resolved for the hard discussion that she knew needed to happen. Until she looked up into his face and felt the grave concern with which he regarded her. Her chin trembled.

“Choy, it’s ok, you aren’t in trouble,” Mace said with a hand on her shoulder. “Let’s go see the hangar. I’ll have your things taken to the transport. He raised a finger and a droid appeared. Choy handed it her duffel and it scuttled away. Choy scanned the room around them.

“The clones you are looking for will be on the transport with us,” Mace said.

“Am I that obvious?” she sighed.

Mace chuckled, “Come, let’s get you out of this place, we can talk on the observation deck.”

“Choy,” a voice said behind them. Choy turned to see Serah standing a few paces away. “I am glad to have met you, Choy, take care,” she glanced at Mace, “find your own path, unique to you.”

“Thank you for your help, Serah,” Choy replied. “And be alert. If anything crazy happens, keep yourself safe.” Serah looked puzzled but turned and bowed to Mace then glided away to assist the troopers nearby.

Mace was mostly silent on the walk down the long causeways through the ship. Choy got the idea that he didn’t want people overhearing the conversation he was eager to have with her. Ahead of them the corridor opened to a cavernous space. High above were great long articulations in the ceiling doors that sealed the vast hangar below from hyperspace. All manner of craft were arranged on the deck far below the rail that Choy grasped. Personnel around the crafts looked tiny. Choy had to look away, the sudden height reminding her of her escape from the tower on Skako Minor. Mace placed a hand on her back and steered her to what seemed like a lounge with comfortable chairs, a small table and a window overlooking the hangar below. He offered Choy a seat with a view of the door and not facing directly to the window. He sat near her and pressed a com link on the small table. A droid appeared from a service corridor Choy hadn’t noticed.

“Can you bring us some water please,” Mace asked the droid which turned and disappeared. Mace leaned on his knee and offered his hand to Choy. “No pressure, but I really would like to clear some things up before we are swept up into Jedi council business. If I ask anything uncomfortable you can just say skip, alright?”

“Ok,” Choy said. His face was forced into a look of sympathy rather than its usual intense scowl. He’s really trying, she thought to herself. A little smile twitched at the corner of her mouth. Choy placed her hand on his and he closed his eyes. She felt him deeply concentrate on her through the force.

“I sense within you a deep anomaly,” he said. “You have no lines, no shatterpoints, there’s just a void.” He opened his eyes and looked at her incredulously. “It’s as though you have already shattered. The dark side must be behind this. It’s too horrible, too unnatural.”

Choy cast her eyes away, wondering what he was seeing that seemed like a void to him.

“This is indeed a puzzle, but it can be solved. You said you remember your past. Let’s start there.”

Choy took a deep breath, “When the Separatists put the force collar on me I began to piece my memories back together. Over time I was able to remember who I was, where I am from, but I never was able to remember how I got here- to Dantooine, to this universe.”

“This universe?” Mace asked with a frown.

Choy took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, this is going to be a lot.”

Possible interest tag list ( let me know if you want to be added or let off the ride)

Serah Lesenna, Mirilan, adept Healer in the Jedi Medical Corps, sat at her station in one of the Venator class star cruiser’s med deck recovery wards. She tapped her stylus on her dark lips as she read her newest patient’s file in the central GAR medical database. It was quite a large file for a civilian known to the GAR for just a couple days. She scrolled through the reports starting at the most recent, filed just hours ago.

[[JEDI MEDICAL CORPS / GAR JOINT FORCE INCIDENT SUMMARY] REDACTED]

Recipient: JMC Healer [Lesenna, Serah], Med Bay 4

Clearance Level: Jedi Medical Tier 2

Generated: 05:58

Subject: Choy [Civ-Jedi Adjunct]

Condition: Post-traumatic Force destabilization; minor cranial impact; post-exertional collapse

Event Summary (Redacted for Tier 2):

Patient experienced residual dark-side resonance following earlier stateroom incident.

Disordered Force attachment reaction noted in nearby personnel, resulting in temporary emotional/physiological dysregulation.

Patient left supervised quarters during period of Force disorientation and exhaustion.

Patient initiated healing attempt on Agonizer-affected trooper. Engaged sedated trooper for a period of approximately 15 minutes.

Result: total reversal of Agonizer neural damage.

Interruption and physical impact occurred during treatment, leading to loss of consciousness.

Recovered by medical staff and stabilized without complication.

Force-Specific Notes:

Patient still exhibits lingering instability in emotional and instinctive Force expression.

Elevated empathic output noted.

Recommend shielding protocols and avoidance of high-stress environments until stabilization.

Monitor for dissociation, intrusive Force echoes, or shifts in aura resonance.

Medical Notes (Accessible Tier):

Minor cranial contusion; neuro scan negative for serious injury.

Vitals stable.

Recommend 24–48 hours observation.

Maintain hydration and caloric support due to Force overexertion.

Personnel Notes (Redacted):

No disciplinary concerns involving attending medics.

Force influence recognized as contributing factor in all parties’ behavior.

Recommendations to Assigned Healer:

Provide grounding practices and gentle sensory stabilization.

Reinforce consistent rest and nourishment.

Use Jedi healing techniques cautiously to avoid triggering further resonance spikes.

Report any unusual fluctuations to Masters Kenobi or Windu immediately.

Recommendations upon patient recovery:

Further assessment by temple healing personnel

Force specific cross training training of her unprecedented healing techniques

Training and placement in appropriate Corps

Signed/Approved:

Master Obi-Wan Kenobi

Master Mace Windu

Serah paused. 15 minutes. She'd seen Agonizer damage before. The neural degradation was excruciating, irreversible by conventional and Force means. Victims usually faced weeks of suffering before—if they were lucky—partial recovery. Most were terminated as an act of mercy.

15 minutes.

And the language used: “Initiated healing attempt” not “broke into the brig.” The report focused repeatedly on the positive outcome, glossing over how she got there or why she was unsupervised at 0200 hours.

Serah scrolled back. The previous report was from less than a day earlier.

MEDICAL INCIDENT REPORT

Mission: Anaxes Ground Operations

Reporting Officer: CC-2224 "Cody," Commander, 7th Sky Corps

Three clone troopers exposed to Agonizer-6 weapon were scheduled for medical termination per standard protocol. Civilian subject "Choy" volunteered Force healing intervention. This officer authorized and observed.

Subject required private medical bay and requested removal of upper garments to facilitate "maximum dermal contact" for Force energy transfer. Treatment involved direct skin-to-skin contact with patients while subject maintained deep Force meditation state.

Results: Complete neural restoration in all three patients. Total procedure time 28 minutes.

Recommendation: Subject's methods are unorthodox but demonstrably effective. Recommend Medical Corps training. Note: Methods require privacy and may be considered unconventional by Jedi standards.

Serah read it twice, her heart sinking.

Cody's careful professional language couldn't quite hide what he'd witnessed. "Removal of upper garments." "Maximum dermal contact." "Direct skin-to-skin contact." He'd watched this woman strip herself bare and press her body against dying men to save them. And he'd documented it with the precision of someone trying very hard to protect her from judgment while telling the truth.

"May be considered unconventional by Jedi standards." That was an understatement.

Three men. Twenty-eight minutes. Men who'd been scheduled for termination.

She kept scrolling, looking for context. Opened a previous report from the same operation.

AFTER ACTION REPORT

Mission: Anaxes Defense Operation

Reporting Officer: CT-7567 "Rex," Captain, 501st Legion

Subject "Choy" proved invaluable in recovery of CT-1409 and subsequent operations. Force healing capabilities exceptional. Demonstrated loyalty to Republic and personal courage under fire. Strong rapport with clone personnel (phenomenon confirmed across multiple units).

Recommend Jedi Medical Corps evaluation and training.

Note: Subject's knowledge of certain classified Republic protocols remains unexplained but appears benign in nature.

Rex was advocating for her. The language was warm, protective. "Invaluable." "Exceptional." But that note at the end—unexplained knowledge of classified protocols. What did she know that she shouldn't?

And that phrase: "strong rapport with clone personnel."

Serah had seen enough clone-Jedi relationships to know what "strong rapport" usually looked like. Professional respect. Camaraderie. This sounded like something else.

She scrolled further back. Another report from Anaxes, but earlier.

OBSERVATIONAL REPORT

Mission: Skako Minor Extraction Operation

Reporting Officer: CT-9902 "Tech," Clone Force 99

Subject "Choy" located in field after extraction of CT-1409 “Echo” from Techno Union facility, where she had been held captive and compelled to provide medical care for CT-1409. Subject demonstrated advanced Force healing and molecular somatic manipulation. Observed subject successfully reverse severe malnutrition and systemic damage in CT-1409 over period of [REDACTED] days.

Subject's treatment methods remain partially unclear due to limited observation access, though outcomes were exceptional. CT-1409's recovery exceeded all projected medical timelines.

Subject exhibited strong emotional attachment to CT-1409 despite limited prior contact.

Notable: All members of Clone Force 99 reported unusual sense of rapport with subject. Mechanism unknown. Phenomenon warrants further study.

Serah paused on that report.

Tech's clinical precision was evident, but there were gaps. "Treatment methods remain partially unclear." "Limited observation access." He was documenting what he didn't know as carefully as what he did.

But the outcome: reversing severe malnutrition and systemic damage over multiple days. That wasn't a simple Force healing. That was sustained care. Intensive. Personal.

What had she done in that Techno Union facility that Tech couldn't—or wouldn't—document?

And again, that phrase: "strong emotional attachment despite limited prior contact."

Immediate. Intense. Just like with the others.

She scrolled back further, looking for when this woman had first entered GAR custody.

She stopped. The first report was dated nearly three years prior.

INCIDENT REPORT - CLASSIFIED

Location: Dantooine, Ancient Jedi Temple Ruins

Date: [Redacted]

Reporting Officer: Jedi General Mace Windu

Subject discovered during Force storm in temple ruins. Female, human, approximately 23 standard years. Complete amnesia. Exhibited signs of recent lactation without evidence of pregnancy or infant. Extremely high Force sensitivity, untrained. No identification. Subject appeared disoriented and distressed.

Preliminary assessment suggests possible Force-related trauma or displacement.

Subject nicknamed "Echoy'la" (Mando'a: lost) by clone personnel. Shortened to "Choy."

Serah's chest tightened.

Three years between Mace finding her and Tech finding her in a Techno Union facility.

Held captive. Compelled to provide medical care.

The woman had been found, lost, and found again. Taken. Used. And the moment she was free, she'd thrown herself into saving dying men with methods that required her to strip herself bare and press against them. And she suspected she knew how she reversed the advanced malnourishment now. In privacy.

Serah looked up from the datapad, across the med bay to where the woman—Choy—lay unconscious behind a privacy curtain. The bruise on her head was from saving yet another dying man. The fourth Agonizer victim she'd healed. And the ARC…

Five men who should have died. All saved through intimate contact, through her pouring herself into them until there was nothing left.

And the clones—they all wrote about her with that same protective tone. That same careful language trying to frame her actions as professional when they clearly weren't. Or couldn't be. Not when she was stripping down and pressing herself against them. Not when they all reported this "unusual rapport," this "strong connection."

All members of Clone Force 99 reported unusual sense of rapport with subject.

What did that mean? What was she doing to them? Or what were they doing to her?

Serah pulled up Tech's report again, scanning for details she'd missed.

Methods involved sustained physical contact and appeared to cause subject significant fatigue. Subject exhibited strong emotional attachment to CT-1409 despite limited prior contact.

"Limited prior contact." But strong emotional attachment. Immediate. Intense.

She thought of the two medics who'd been arguing earlier, their voices tight with hurt and guilt. The way they'd both been hovering over her bed before the one left to surgery. The way one still at her bedside—Splint—Master Windu’s man, looked at her like she was something precious that kept slipping through his fingers.

And across the ward, the commando. Watching the curtained space where she slept. Hadn't taken his eyes off it in the hours since he’d been relocated to this ward.

Serah could feel it in the Force—the way their signatures bent toward hers. Not just attraction. Not just gratitude. Something deeper. More fundamental.

Like they were orbiting her.

Or she was orbiting them.

Serah set down the datapad and looked across the med bay again. Her brow furrowed as she puzzled out this mystery.

Found in a storm, alone, producing milk for a child that didn't exist. Held captive for years—how many years? Lost to everyone who'd tried to help her. Rescued only to immediately start breaking herself to save dying men through methods that required her to give everything, hold nothing back.

And the clones couldn't stay away from her. Couldn't stop protecting her with their careful reports. Couldn't stop gravitating toward her even when it got them in trouble.

She's not doing this on purpose, Serah thought. She can't be. She doesn't understand it any more than they do.

But something was happening. Something the reports danced around without naming. Something that made professional soldiers write protective lies and made dying men wake to her touch and made everyone who encountered her unable to let her go.

Serah pulled up the most recent report again. Stared at the designation of the commando.

RC-3367.

He'd been in agony. Sedated. Scheduled for transport to the Temple where proper healers could spend weeks trying to help him.

And she'd come to him in the middle of the night wearing nothing but a bathrobe.

Fifteen minutes later, he was healed.

And he'd thrown her into medical equipment hard enough to knock her unconscious.

Serah closed her eyes, reaching out with the Force. Feeling for the woman behind the curtain. For the fracture Serah could sense but couldn't name. The wrongness that had nothing to do with the concussion or the dark side echo the other reports mentioned.

Something was broken in her. Something fundamental. Something the medical droids couldn't measure and the Jedi reports hadn't identified.

And she kept trying to fix everyone else.

Choy’s eyes fluttered. Serah set the datapad down and went to open the curtain around Choy’s bedside, her hand outstretched feeling her in the force. The large clone, the commando, on a bed in the corner sat up straighter his eyes narrowing and body tense like he might spring forward to intercept.

Serah paused and met his eyes. Eyes dark and burning with something he was trying to control. “She needs to be assessed,” she said calmly.

The clone relaxed back slightly. “I know,” his jaw worked, “just …careful.”

The clone in a chair next to Choy’s bed, the medic named Splint, sat stock still, rough, hadn’t left her side in hours. His attention fixated on her face- as intently as he had been ignoring the commando clone across the room. He seemed like a man awaiting a verdict.

Choy opened her eyes. The light seemed bright, making her blink. She smelled antiseptic and bacta. A machine was beeping over the softer sounds of other people. A diagnostic halo hovered above her chest, blinking with stats.

“Oh,” she winced in pain as she tried to lift her head and look down at herself.

“You’re ok, but you’ve had a concussion, take this slow,” Serah told her calmly. She gently pressed Choy with a hand on her shoulder. Choy felt soothed and warm and relaxed back on the bed. She stared at the ceiling and looked to the side, her eyes landing on Splint.

“Splint-,” her voice was rough. “What-“

“Medbay,” Splint said, “you’ve been out for eight-nine hours.” His face seemed steady but something in his voice wasn’t.

“Nine…” Choy brought her hand to her head then down to her body registering the bed, the monitoring equipment around her, the medical gown. Not her robe. Her eyes went wide. “Is he—“

She tried sitting up again and Splint joined Serah in holding her down. “You hit your head pretty hard,” Serah said, “you need to stay laying down for a while.”

“But is he ok?” Choy began to agitate, “I was just trying to help him. I’m sorry-“ her voice was panicky and breathy.

“I’m fine,” said a deeper voice across the room. It was low and rough.

Choy’s eyes widened. She turned slowly in the voice’s direction, afraid of what she might see.

Across the room on his own recovery bed she found the large clone who she knew she’d broken every rule in the GAR to get to. He was propped up, his back against the elevated end of the bed with a forced relaxed posture. His upper armor was removed down to his blacks which showed off the slightly larger physique of a commando clone. He looked exhausted, dark circles under his eyes and stubbly cheeks sunken. His strong jawline was tight with a tension that radiated through his body and out toward Choy.

Their gazes locked and Choy’s breath caught in her chest. She felt him so clearly. They stared at each other for a long moment neither moving. Serah could feel their pull on each other in the force, orbiting. She took a step back to observe discreetly. Splint noticed too.

“You’re-,” Choys voice a whisper, “you’re out of your armor.”

“Didn’t hurt to take it off, after-,” he swallowed, his words hanging in the air between them. “After you healed me,” he continued.

Choy’s hands raised toward him of their own accord as she felt into the pull from the commando. “I’m sorry, I-, I didn’t mean to- when you woke up you were scared and—,”

“You’re apologizing? To him??” Splint scoffed, releasing her hand he’d been holding. He folded his arms and leaned back in his chair next to the bed.

“You are sorry? I threw you, hurt you. You could have—,”

His words stuck in his throat.

Choy looked to either side of her at each clone, “You were in pain, sedated, you didn’t know-,”

“I knew enough.”

Choy froze. His words were quiet but they hit her like he’d shouted. What did that mean? How much did he remember?

Sera watched them. The way Choy’s pulse jumped when she paused. The way the commando’s shoulders stiffened. The way Splint was looking between them. At her. His own questions in his eyes.

He knew enough? He knew what? What had happened in that cell before she passed out?

“How much,” Choy asked, her voice small now, “do you remember?”

The commando was gripping the sides of his bed, knuckles white. His metered “Enough” as controlled as his face, but his eyes, his eyes burned with deep emotions.

A heavy silence stretched a moment. Choy looked down at her hands and at Splint who was leaning forward on his knees, rubbing his temples.

The med bay doors opened with a zhush.

“Oh good, she woke up.” A clone medic in scrubs walked in, removing plastigloves and a mask and throwing them in a receptacle. He looked at Choy, scrutinizing, then at Splint. Something passed between the medics. More than a look.

In the shared recovery space beyond Choy’s privacy curtain Choy felt a shift in the room. She heard soft rustle of the alert clones suddenly finding their data pads very interesting. One coughed. Another rolled over to see what the heck was happening.

“Kix,” Splint said quietly.

“Splint,” Kix replied as he went over the the monitoring station and checked a datapad. “How is she?”

“Stable, lucid,” Splint replied as he rose and walked closer to the other medic. “Asking about the commando,” he added.

Kix’s fingers paused on the data pad. He looked up at Choy, and down at the screen again, “Of course she was,” He strode closer, pushing the curtain aside more, checking and swiping the holo projection in front of her bed with practiced efficiency. His eyes met hers and softened slightly. “You scared us.”

Choy sat up, her head throbbed, “I’m sorry.”

Kix’s jaw tightened, “I’m sure you are.”

“You scared us- the whole karking deck. Force, Cyare, you can’t go disappear like that.” Splint said louder as he stepped back over to her side and put a hand on one of hers.

Choy’s chin started to tremble. She looked down at their hands.

The commando gripped the sides of his bed.

Serah, seeing Choy’s distress, feeling how the clones’ presences in the force all bent and swirled around her like she was a gravity well, swept over to pull Splint back toward Kix. Splint kept his eyes on Choy as he let himself be pulled away. Eyes full of so many emotions. Serah said something low to them pointing toward the monitoring station before striding away to tend to another trooper’s iv line. They begrudgingly moved closer to it and spoke together in hushed tones. Choy could see their lips move, sharp hand gestures, but could only catch scraps of their conversation.

“-Should have woke me-,”

“-panicked, this will-,”

“-just in a bathrobe-,”

Someone cleared his throat pointedly.

Their body language was tense. Splint’s shoulders were high. Kix gripped the edge of the station.

“-to talk about this later-“

“-not pretend it didn’t-“

Beyond the curtain, Serah caught two troopers make eye contact and a silent communication pass between them Do you hears this too. Yep sure do. One looked up quickly at the lighting in the ceiling.

Choy’s chest tightened and she looked down again, tugging at her braid. When had her hair been braided? She wondered and looked at Serah who was eyeing the commando.

He had shifted where he sat on his bed, tenser, leaning forward slightly, coiled. In front of the whole ward, no privacy curtain, on full display and out of armor, and every conscious clone was pretending very hard not to notice him noticing her.

The medics voices were lower now but scraps of discussion could still be heard.

“She’s not our-“

“-and not his-“

“-Echo’s girl, remember-“

Choy flinched like she’d been physically struck. A trooper nearby shifted a little too loudly, definitely heard that.

“Gentlemen.” Serah’s voice cut in above their conversation as she moved between them and the rest of the ward. “It’s time for you to take this conversation somewhere else.”

Both Medics looked at her.

“My patient has a concussion and needs rest and quiet and,” she nodded toward the room full of troopers, “ I’m sure everyone else would also appreciate it.”

“Apologies, Healer,” Kix said. Splint opened his mouth and raised a finger.

“I need this room clear of distractions, so you can take this conversation to the corridor, the commissary, anywhere but my med bay.”

“I’m her medic, I need to,”

“You can wait outside, I will let you know when she's ready for you to come back.” Serah’s tone was firm but still kind.

Kix nodded, already heading out, but Splint looked back at Choy through the curtain. “We really do care,” he said quietly to Serah but loud enough to carry to Choy, "That's why-,”

“Outside. Now.” Serah’s voice left no room for argument.

They continued their earnest discussion as they entered the corridor.

“-written up for sure-,”

“-redacted the reports-,”

“-taking her any-”

Choy’s stomach turned in a knot. What had she done?

The door swished closed behind them. The tension in the ward broke. One trooper letting out a long breath, others whispering to each other, med droids went about their rounds and monitors beeped quietly in the new hush.

Serah entered Choy’s space and took her hand and shoulder to help Choy lay back down gently. “I need to do my assessment now,” Serah said softly, “any nausea?”

“No”

“Blurred vision?”

“No,”

“Dizziness?”

“Nn-yes a bit.”

“Headache?”

“Yeah,” Choy’s voice was small.

“On a scale of one to ten where’s the pain?”

“6, maybe 7, now.”

Serah scanned Choy’s eyes and made notes and puttered around, checking Choy’s pulse, reflexes finishing up her exam. Everything was normal, Choy would be fine in a day or two. She finally smiled softly at her, making a mental note of Choy’s deeper wounds, the ones she couldn’t scan or measure.

Choy could feel Serah in the force like a balm of compassion and felt all her own emotions she’d been holding back come welling up as Serah pulled the curtains fully around her area. Choy noticed the brooding intensity of commando’s eyes disappear in the final gap.

“You,” Serah said to the commando, “How are you feeling?”

The commando was still staring at the curtain around Choy, stiff posture, white knuckle grip on the sides of the bed. “I’m fine.”

“The Agonizer damage to your neural system- are there any lingering effects?”

“No,” he spared her a glance, then looked back toward Choy, “she healed me.”

“Indeed she did,” Serah said and added “You may have been healed of that damage but you still need rest. Your body needs to recover, it has been through trauma.”

“Yes ma’am,” the commando said softly, still staring at Choy’s curtain. Serah felt his draw to the mystery woman strongly and stepped out of its immediacy.

She turned her attention to the rest of the ward. The other patients were healing nicely. The droids could handle the routine care. She had reports to write and these two, this mystery woman and the surprisingly sensitive clone commando needed space. She couldn’t give them real privacy here but space she could manage. She went up to the curtain and projected her voice.

“Miss Choy, make sure you get rest, no excitement, just rest. Doctor’s orders. I’ll be at the monitoring station if you need me.

“Ok,” Choy softly acknowledged her.

Serah situated herself at the station where she had a view of the ward. She pulled out a data pad and busied herself with files. She could feel the pull between the woman and the commando who was still staring at the curtain like he could see through it.The medical droids went about their business, softly beeping. The troopers had gone quiet. Resting or pretending to while remaining aware of the tension in the space. The ward settled into an uneasy quiet.

The commando slouched on the recovery bed in the corner. He reckoned he was about 80% back to normal, back to himself after the pain nearly shattered his mind. But he was a commando, he could put the rest of the pieces back together. And somehow one of those pieces was behind that curtain.

The last thing he saw before the curtain closed was her face. Sad eyes, shimmery with unshed tears, locked on his. Her expression was like she was being shut away from the one thing she needed most. It hit him like that Agonizer all over again.

He was still gripping the bed, maintaining distance, composure, discipline. His eyes scanned the ward. All was quiet. Troopers rested, looked at data pads, one close by had his eyes closed but wasn’t asleep, his breathing wasn’t even. Droids moved about beeping quietly. It was calm, routine. Except for the noise coming from behind the curtain.

Soft, barely audible but unmistakable, she was crying. Not loud or dramatic. Her breathing hitched in a way someone’s would when trying not to be heard.

Rest, the healer had told him. He was supposed to give himself time to heal. But she had healed him. The physical part. Stopped the searing twilight of pain and soothed his nerves in minutes. If it hadn’t been for her he’d still be in that hell.

And then he hurt her.

The soft crying continued, muffled like she was pressing her face into her pillow. He felt like he wanted to act, to do something, anything, but what? He tried to stay still, stay put. Commandos, he reminded himself, didn’t act on impulse.

Another soft sob and he was on his feet before he knew he’d made the decision to go to her. The ward stayed quiet. He was across the space in a few strides and right up against the curtain. His hand went up to the curtain.

He hesitated. Commandos don’t hesitate, they act. But he did . That annoyed him. They act. Within their bounds of protocol and planning and-

Another cut off gasp. And pain, not physical pain, but pain that went right to his own heart. Kriff protocol. He grabbed the curtain and parted it and stepped inside.

Choy was sitting up red eyed, puffy, wiping away tears that wouldn’t stop. Feeling confused and awful and somehow relieved the commando had come to her. He stood, hand still on the curtain suddenly realizing he had no idea what he was doing. This irritated him. Commandos asses and act with a plan. He had no plan.

Choy wiped her nose with the back of her hand and tried drying her face. Tissues, she needed tissues. He could do that. He closed the curtain and set about looking around the space. Nothing. Then he remembered he had a piece of kit that could help. He opened his belt boxes pulling out antiseptic wipes, well kind of helpful. But no they’d sting her eyes. He opened more pulling spare lengths of paracord, wire, various small tools.

Choy watched, distracted from her nonstop tears, as he fumbled through his collection cursing himself for not being more- His head whipped up at her, feeling her eyes. She tried to smile.

“Standard kit,” he explained, not knowing why.

She raised her eyebrows. “Wet wipes- and wire?” she stuttered through her hitching breaths.

“Emergency repairs, field expedience,” he said and realized he was still holding the wire like an idiot. He set it down and fished around more then pulled a pack of compressed sterile cloths out. Finally. These were for cleaning wounds but would work just fine. He expanded one and held it out to her. Her fingers grazed his as she took it, sending a sensation through him that felt like when she was on him in that cell. When he’d awoken to the feeling of warmth and gentle hands pouring something into him that felt like- like something he didn’t have words for, before he-

She wiped her eyes and blew her nose with an inelegant sound that was very human and he came back to the present. “Thank you,” she said, looking up at him again. She kind of had to crane her neck to look him in the eye.

He felt like he was much too large suddenly. And still didn’t know what he was doing.

“Do you have to stand there like a statue, looming like that?” She asked playfully.

Looming. He was looming. He kept standing as they stared at each other for a long moment.

“You can sit,” she said, scooting over and patting the bed. “The healer did say to rest.”

He looked at the small space she’d made for him. His heart skipped a beat. This was way outside the bounds of protocol. Not professional.

“That’s not- not a good idea,” he said.

“Why?” She asked with a slight tilt of her head. “Do commandos not sit?”

“We sit.”

Choy blinked up at him, “Then what’s the problem.”

He shifted uncomfortably. “It’s dangerous.”

“Dangerous to sit?”

“Dangerous to invite a commando to sit that close,”

She stared at him for a moment then her expression shifted somewhat impish. “Why? Do commandos smell bad?”

“No,” he said flatly, “We do not smell bad,” he said matter of factly like she’d asked a genuine question.

Her mouth twitched, “So if it’s not a hygiene issue then…”

His hands flexed at his sides. He shouldn’t have to explain this. It should be obvious, “Commandos are trained different than the regs. Enhanced aggression. Built to react.”

Choy looked at the bed and up to him. “React to what?”

“Stimuli, threat assessment,” he could hear how flat he sounded, “proximity. We're reactive.”

Choy tilted her head again, “Reactive how?”

“It depends.”

“On what?”

“On the situation,” His jaw twitched, why was she making him spell it out like this, “on proximity. On..how close we are.”

Choy glanced at the bed again. “We’d be pretty close,” there was something in her voice now- not teasing, testing- “if you sat here.”

“Yes”

“So what kind of reaction should I anticipate from a commando at that proximity?”

His breathing became shallower. He felt her pull stronger now, that need to be closer that he didn’t understand. “It depends.”

“You keep saying that. Depends on what?”

“On how close we are.”

“And we’d be close..”

“Yes.”

“Close enough for what? You’d attack me?” she asked simply, not teasing, not afraid.

“No.” He said definitively. “Never.”

“What, then?”

He looked down at her. So small in the standard issue medical gown, eyes red, hair tangly, fragile. Offering him space like it was nothing, like it didn’t make his heart rate rise, or his hands tremble.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. It felt like a relief to say. “I don’t- commandos aren’t trained for,” he gestured between them, “for this. Whatever it is.”

“For sitting?” She asked.

“For you,” the words came out fast and raw, before he realized he’d said them. “For this, for-,” he tried again. “You affect me. In ways tha- I don’t have protocols for this.”

Choy’s expression softened, “I affect you?”

“Yes.”

She scanned her hands and sighed before lifting her gaze again. “How?”

His hands clenched. “I don’t know.” He unclenched his hands not wanting to make fists in front of her. "I just know I couldn't stay out there. I heard you crying and I had to—" He stopped. "And now I'm here and you're asking me to sit and I don't know if that's—if I can—"

"You can," Choy said quietly. Gently. "You can sit. I'm asking you to. Please."

He stood there, rigid with the contradiction of wanting to move closer and knowing he shouldn't.

Commandos didn't hesitate. But he kept hesitating with her.

"Please," she said again. Her voice was so soft. "I'd like you to sit. If you want to. You don't have to loom. And I don't want to keep craning my neck to look at you."

A practical reason. As if that made it simple. Like it wasn't asking him to breach every boundary he'd ever been taught.

He moved before he could overthink it anymore.

He sat carefully. Not at the head of the bed where she was. But down near her knees, leaving space between them. The bed dipped under his weight. He didn’t look at her. Kept his hands on his knees. Controlled. Disciplined.

"There," Choy said. She sounded pleased. Satisfied. "That's better. Now we're close."

His hands tightened on his knees. "Yes," he said. "We're close."

She sensed every muscle in him was tense and smiled sweetly at the side of his face. He felt the weight of her gaze and side-eyed her, just a glance. Her eyes, still red and shimmery, studied him curiously. He swallowed and went back to staring straight ahead trying to maintain some sort of professionalism. While sitting on her kriffing bed. In a med bay. There was nothing professional about any of this.

“You’re quite tense,” she observed.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re sitting like you’re about to be court martialed.”

His chest rose and fell. “I’m sitting.”

“Technically, yes,” she said not mocking but with humor. “But it’s like you’re on guard duty. Not resting.”

“I’m fine.”

“Right.” She was quiet a moment. “So I suppose I should probably know your name, since we’re sitting so closely and all,” she suppressed a smirk.

She wanted his name. Of course she didn’t know it. She snuck off to help a total stranger. Because he was in pain. Not because he was someone to her.

“Jace.” He said quietly looking toward her but not quite at her. “RC 3367, Jace.”

“Jace.” She tried his name out loud, like she was tasting it. He looked away again to hide the inexplicable sensation that hearing her say his name caused.

In his peripheral vision he caught movement. Her hand, bare and small, was outstretched towards him for a handshake.

“I’m Choy,” she said. As if he didn’t know. As if she wasn’t branded in his very being and the subject of much conversation over the past hours. “It’s nice to officially meet you, Jace.”

He looked at her hand. Handshake. Humans shake hands in greeting. A simple formality. But nothing about her seemed simple. He was hesitating again.

He took her hand in his. His larger calloused hand closed around hers. Small, soft. The contact was- The room narrowed and everything around him faded back. Her hand felt like it fit in his. The pull he felt before intensified.

“It's nice to meet you too,” he said. His own voice sounded odd to him.

She grasped his hand a little more firmly. “Officially, because we already did. Sort of.”

“Yeah, sort of,” Jace said as he looked up at the bruise blooming under her hairline. He should let go of her hand. This had gone on too long already. Handshakes don’t last this long.

He didn’t let go. Neither did she.

Jace’s hand felt so comfortable around hers. She felt comfortable all over. Like she was sitting in a cozy room in front of a warm fireplace. Not in a cold clinic in the middle of space. Her head reminded her that she was not all comfortable.

Jace watched as their hands sank down to rest on the bed between them. His own so large around hers and scarred from battles. Made for killing and violence. Hers small and soft despite everything she’d been through. He looked back up at her. Her eyes, still red rimmed were clearer. Her face no longer splotchy. She was smiling a little smile. Then she winced.

“Your head,” he said.

“I’m fine,” she echoed his words from before.

His lips pressed together, hearing that. “You winced.”

“It’s just,” she paused and another flicker of pain crossed her face. “Ok it hurts but I’ll be ok.”

“You have a concussion.”

“A minor concussion.”

“You should lie down,” that sounded too much like an order, “The healer said to rest.”

“I am resting.” But even as she said it she didn’t feel like she was.

He saw the strain of it- in her eyes, the way she was holding herself carefully. “Rest laying down properly-“

“I don’t want to lay down.” She confessed. “If I do you will probably go back to your bed.”

He went still. Yes he’d do that, it would be the correct thing to do, the professional thing to do. To go and let her rest like the healer ordered. But- the thought of going back across the ward. Of the distance from her.

“And I dont want you to go,” she said. Her voice sounded a little uncertain. “I know that’s selfish, and you should probably go, but,” she paused, rubbing little circles on his hand with her thumb, “but I like that you're here. I feel- better. When you’re close.”

Something in Jace’s chest cracked. She felt better with him here. Even though he hurt her. Even though he was akward. Even though he was a grim commando with no protocol for sitting on beds, holding hands with civilians who’d saved his life.

“Lie down,” he said more gruffly than he meant to, “and I’m not going anywhere.”

Her eyes sparkled, hopeful, at hearing that. “Oh- you’re not?”

“No, I’m staying,” he said with finality. “but you need to lie down. Your head, the pain.”

“I’m ok—,”

“Choy. Lie down,” he squeezed her hand, “please.”

She looked at him a moment. “Okay, okay.” She began to lower herself down, she started to let go of his hand but he gripped it faster, not letting go. She shifted so she wasn’t pulling on his arm. He adjusted his position and brought his other hand up to steady her and guide her back down.

She settled onto her pillow with a sigh. Some of the tension in her face lifted and she smiled at him softly.

“Better?” he asked.

“Yeah ,” she said, and let her eyes slowly blink, “better.”

As Choy’s eyes drifted closed they listened to the sounds of the ward around them. The air filter system, droids beeping, someone coughed, the occasional rustle of cloth. Everything felt settled and comfortable. Peaceful.

“Jace?” Her voice was soft, drowsy.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For staying.” She opened her eyes a tiny bit. “For not letting go.”

His voice came out tight. “I won’t.”

“Promise?” The word sounded childlike, vulnerable.

“Promise.”

She closed her eyes, her breathing evened out, deepened. Jace sat, close, holding her hand, and kept his promise.