#riduur

i) Spouse Definition;

a) Romantic, lifelong partner b) Defacto partner in the eyes of the Law, Medical Professionals, and in Clan Law.

ii) Spousal Privileges;

a) Medical Preferential contact and Consent b) Parental Rights regarding Foundlings, Adoptees, and Children from previous marriages.

iii) Conditions for Legal Engagement;

a) The Mando’ade and their partner in question must both be past the Mandalorian Age of Sexual Consent. b) The Mando’ade and their partner, if the partner is not Mando’ade, must have the approval of a Clan Goran to be engaged.

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iv) Consent and Age Restrictions;

a) Age of sexual consent varies between species to great degree. However, for the vast majority of humanoid species, the age of sexual consent is from fifteen onwards, if the other participating partner is within eighteen months of their age (upwards). The age of consent for any humanoid with a partner over the age of eighteen is explicitly sixteen – with or without sexual intent or participation. Sexual relationships that start before these ages and break these rules with humanoid aging individuals will face statutory rape charges. Humanoids of species that age at a slower rate – such as Halassai – are not able to give informed sexual consent of any kind until twenty, and that includes even humanoid partners of a younger age. If both parties are below age of consent, regardless of species, the partnership in question is to be physically removed from each other, and their guardians and clan face fines and jail time for either encouraging, or ignoring underage copulation. b) The Species Aging Index – Accredited to Ordo Technical College – is a comprehensive list of comparative ages between over two thousand of the listed Sentient Species in the Galaxy. The capacity to give sexual, informed, and clerical consent is referred to heavily by Mandalorian Laws to this specific list. Cross species relationships, whether they be sexual, familial, or generally platonic, are subject to the constraints discussed in this list. For instance, a Wookie must be at least seventy standard years of age to even consider adopting another sentient, let alone sexual liaison with another from any species. c) The legitimacy to give consent refers to whether the correct being is being asked for consent – a third party is rarely necessary for engagements, marriage, or divorce. However, witnesses are frequently required. A divorce cannot be filed, not a separation, without at least one partner’s explicit consent. A divorce or separation cannot be fled without any partner being the instigator – family cannot request a divorce on another’s behalf; however, a separation can be requested if there is proof of invalid, or inhibited consent at the time or marriage, or if abuse can be proven. For example, a partner could be under the influence, or trappings of another clan, and their respective clan can file for temporary removal from spouse in order for the partner in question to be psychologically assessed for any interference on the behalf of any clan, clan member, or partner. d) Consent under coherent capacity refers to either inebriation, ability to think independently (for example, mentally impaired Mando’ade with certain disabilities can not reasonably consent to specific matters due to their disability. Signing on a disabled Mando’ade’s behalf can be a position of extreme scrutiny, as Mando’ade with such disability are protected under Mandalorian law and are not to be traded as chattel or near-slaves to their partners.) injury such as concussion, and mental stability, referring to the old practice of Mando’ade taking war prizes in the form of unwilling partners. Such things are no longer to be tolerated in Mandalorian space, and those that attempt such practices will face Mandalorian Military Court.

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v) Conditions for Legal Marriage;

a) Both parties must be present and of age at the time of the vows, and at the time of engagement announced to witnessing Goran and assembly. b) In the occasion of battlefield weddings, both Mando’ade must be in their right mind, with no head injuries, mind altering substances, medical or magical interference, and cannot either be currently wearing sentient trafficking garb, or currently be a slave. c) Mando’ade cannot marry a non-freed slave. Those who marry slaves and keep them as such are declared dar’manda and will face both Mandalorian and Galactic Court. The Freed are completely able to marry any Mandalorian once freed. d) Both parties must be able to give informed consent of their own accord – in the event of a Mando’ade with impaired mental faculty, their carer, who cannot be their future spouse, must be present and one of the signatories for the wedding. Only Mando’ade who’s mental faculty works beyond the significantly impaired grade can reasonably give consent for sexual conduct and intent.

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vi) Conditions for Legal Divorce;

a) Divorce must be recognised by a Goran and witnessed by at least one third party, non-Clan aligned Mando’ade. A divorce cannot be completed without a witness. b) Reasonings for a Legal Divorce (Dar’Riduurok) can be of the following; a change in political, environmental and marital circumstances that cause undue stress to the partnership, the partnership’s children, or the partnership’s Clan. c) Reasonings for a Legal Divorce that declare one or more of the parties involved as Dar’manda (Resulting in a Court Recognised Absolution of Their Oaths) can contain the following; physical, emotional or mental abuse of the spouse requesting the divorce or children within or outside of the partnership’s Aliit. Spouses can divorce a partner without becoming dar’riduur by sending a request to both their local Astro Body Governor, System Governor, affiliated or unaffiliated Goran, Journeyman Protector Commander in Chief, and even the Manda’lor in office if required. If the Manda’lor in question is the being to be held to account, the House Alors can be notified in their stead. d) Divorcees from within, or outside of Mandalore – if they do not have the explicit exemption of a Court Recognised Absolution of their Oaths – cannot marry again and consider themselves Mandalorian afterwards. Divorce does not make a Mando’ade no longer Mandalorian, but ignoring these stipulations resorts in excommunication from Mandalorian Society. e) A Separation Request can be filed without divorce when necessary – such as when a Super Commando has a break in psyche and requires institutionalisation, a Separation Notice will be filed. Whilst, before and after a Separation Notice is filed, a Mando’ade can remarry. Mandalore does not define Marriage as between two partners exclusively – however, lack of notification to other partners can result in a Ban of Marriage and even a Separation filed between the Mando’ade and their ven’riduur in question. This can continue on to existing partners if required, and if the breach is significant. f) The removal of a Mando’ade’s Beskarta is not required to acknowledge a Divorce, Separation, or loss, and is up to the individual beliefs of the Mandalorian in question. g) A married Mando’ade can marry again with the same requirements as their first marriage for as long as a divorce has not been filed.

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vii) Children, Clan and House Considerations;

a) Children are permitted to disown a parent for their choice in partner, or choice to separate from partner or Clan. b) Children from a previous marriage – depending on the stipulations and the manner of the previous partners death, separation, or agreement to a new partnership member – are readopted by both their new parents, and previous parents in order to maintain family security. c) Warring Houses, or Clans in conflict, can not demand any prospective partners discredit, or denounce their oaths. Regardless of the Clan or House of any set of partners, Mando’ade are permitted to marry anyone of any sector, or belief, for as long as the children they raise are raised as Mandalorians. d) Children that are raised as Mandalorians, but do not wish to swear the Creed cannot, regardless of their parents, or Clan’s feelings, be disowned or disavowed in any way. The swearing of a Creed is not what solely makes a Mandalorian, and they cannot break oaths they have not sworn. This is not a legitimate reason for either separation, or divorce in Mandalorian Law.

[Divorce section, my beloved. As always, if you have any ideas or criticism feel completely free to let me know. The sections on consent are close to my heart for many reasons - including having a family member who cannot give Mental Faculty Able Consent - and so I hope I have made it as fair and bullet proof as possible, but I am always happy to make any improvements anyone can think of.]

“There’s an Imperial base that’s in operation in the remains of Concordia,” Axe informed the leaders as he and his apprentice, Ragnar Vizsla, entered the war room. Koska followed behind the pair, helmet tucked under her arm, her brows pulled in a contemplative expression.

“Scans have proved the existence of the Beskar alloy they’d been using to make the super commando armor, and heat signatures prove that the old factories are back in working order,” Koska added in as she set her helmet on the war room console.

The Mand’alor frowned as she pulled the star map up. They’d only recently managed to get the proper equipment in the atmosphere to keep an eye on the healing Mandalore sector, the storms slowing down after they’d bartered trade with the New Republic to fix the environment. They were even on track to restarting the old Mando-Motors buildings, and started to get details in the books to renew ship manufacturing, so having Imperials on Concordia when they could be using the planets resources for materials instead of bartering, just wouldn’t work for her.

“Ragnar, what do you think we should do?” She questioned the young apprentice, lips quirking as he tensed from the spotlight. He was meant to be learning strategy by now anyways, and his inexperience could prove useful in dealing with the troopers.

“Well, Lady Kryze, we could take a small squad for a scouting operation, and decide from there how to continue depending on what we see? Our scanners could still be faulty with the storms,” His hand traced the chin of his helmet in thought, though Bo-Katan was nodding her head.

“That’s a good plan, Ragnar. Does anyone oppose?” Bo-Katan looked around the room, nodding her head at the shakes of everyones head. “Perfect, Din, Grogu, could you two run interference and surveillance from the Gauntlet while we hit the ground?” She turned to the Clan of Two, where Din was pointing out different locations on the map.

“It will be done, Lady Kryze,” He affirmed, his hand resting on Grogu’s head, where a miniature helmet covered the brunt of his head, though there was no visor, and his ears were also uncovered, the beskar would protect from anything fall, something she was glad to see the Jetti apprentice wearing.

“Alright, if you’re in this room, congratulations, you’ve all been drafted for recon, load up,” She patted her hand on the table, a smile pulling at her lips at Axe’s laugh as the man threw his arm around his apprentice and led him to the newly reconstructed hangars. Bo-Katan and The Armorer were the last to file out of the war room, mostly so the Mand’alor could press a soft kiss to the hard gold metal of the woman’s helm.

Letting Din and Grogu pilot, Bo-Katan, The Armorer, Axe, and Ragnar loaded into the drop transport, while Koska stuck in the cockpit to run the scans. The ship rocked and rumbled as they breached the storms in the atmosphere, when they broke the edge, The Armorer’s hand reached to settle on Bo’s waist, under the impression of helping her stay steady, since the Mand’alor refused to strap into one of the seats.

“We’re breaching atmo, there’s activity on the surface,” Din called over comms, the ship rattling as he pulled it harshly to avoid hostile scanners. “I’ll drop you as close as I can, and then we’ll sit until you call,” The floor of the gauntlet started to shift, until Bo was leading the drop, the others unstrapping and freefalling after her.

They couldn’t activate their thrusters until they were closer to the ground, which meant it would be close, especially since Ragnar didn’t have nearly the same amount of skill as the others. The comms were silent as the air rushed around her, her head turning just enough to catch the gold and blue of her squad. In the last few feet they had to spare, five sets of thrusters engaged in tandem. When her feet touched the dirt, her rangefinder dropped to scan their immediate surroundings, watching for some indication that they’ve been seen.

“It has been some time since I have been here,” The Armorer spoke with a hint of nostalgia, though Bo and her Niteowls all nodded their head in agreement. They’d all been a part of Death Watch, had hidden themselves from New Mandalorian rule under Pre Vizsla’s order, and had terrorized their people under his command, until they’d had no choice but to flee.

“It has been some time,” Bo agreed her head as she started towards the closest facility, where she last knew the most secure facility to have been. “The manufacturing centers were all forced to shut down, or to transition into making ship pieces for Mando-motors, though while Concordia was under the rule of Pre Vizsla, Death Watch managed to restart the production of Beskar alloys, and make produce enough armor to renew each set that had been given up by families who’d bent to the New Mandalorian’s pacifistic ways,” The redhead explained quietly as they walked, keeping her head on a swivel as they moved.

Koska nodded her head with her gauntlet held in front of her face. “Though, the mass production was nothing compared to what the old armorer’s were doing, before the new laws.” The Armorer listened to them speak as she marched on beside Ragnar and Axe. She hadn’t seen life inside Death Watch, as her clan had derived from those who managed to break away, she’d only been subjected to the consequences of their actions, and then the consequences of The Niteowls actions in turn.

“We’ve got movement ahead,” Ragnar called, pointing towards an observation balcony built into the side of the facility. The trooper was turned around, so the team had enough time to move in and press themselves close to the exterior walls. “We can’t drop him, yet, I don’t want them knowing we’re here until it’s too late,” She signed using dadita to keep their cover.  

Nods of affirmation came from the four others in the squad. They waited in anticipation for several minutes, until the sounds of a door sliding open and the retreating of footsteps met their ears. Bo-Katan shot a line from her gauntlet that wrapped around the railing, pulling herself up quietly the balcony. No cameras met her eye when she landed, so she gestured to the others to follow.

The moment they got the doors open, Koska and Axe pushed forward to breach the interior, leaving Bo to cover the rear as they picked their way through old halls. The two Niteowls in lead had more experience than Bo-Katan in any of the production facilities, since her spot as Pre’s lieutenant had kept her away from the ‘grunt work’ of the job.

The resistance in the base was minimal, so Axe brought Ragnar to the front of the squad so he could work on his silent takedowns. The team managed to get all the way to the control rooms and place the charges before they’d ran into their first major issue. The guard rotations had been completed, and a janitor had stumbled upon a plastoid armored corpse in a closet.

Klaxons blared as an Imperial called orders over the ringing. Soon enough, the halls were filled with the sounds of shouting and blaster fire as the squad of Mandalorians made their way back to the exit. “Din, we’re going to need a fast pickup!” Bo called into the comms, only getting static in response. “We’re jammed, push outside and we’ll try again,”

A thermal detonator was chucked into the fray, though Bo couldn’t tell who’d thrown it. Before she could react, a bezoar hammer was smashing into the side of the explosive, sending it barreling into the squad of troopers keeping them from the exit.

Leaping past the prone bodies of stormtroopers, Bo-Katan was the first into the dim sunlight, her shield ejecting and raising in perfect timing to deflect a blaster bolt that would have destroyed her visor.

Clearing a path, The Mand’alor managed to secure room for the entire squad to take cover behind as more troopers rallied both in front and behind them. “Axe! Ragnar! Koska! Keep our shebs clear!” Bo commanded as she started firing into the troopers in front. The Armorer pressed ahead to the riot line with her hammer and tongs, leaving Bo-Katan to pick off anyone who tried to snag her while she was occupied in melee combat.

The thrusters of a jetpack sounded as another rifle joined their cause. “Where’s Grogu?” She called as Din landed beside her, his whistling birds striking home in three trooper’s chests.

“Piloting!” The mandalorian returned, his rifle mounted on the Imperial barricade wall by the entrance, yellow plasma ejecting from his rifle to take down the growing numbers.

It was truly only mildly concerning that Grogu was piloting, but she trusted Din enough to not leave any of them in bad hands.

“Heavy turret!” Bo called, her gauntlet’s cable shooting out to wind around The Armorer’s waist and drag her back before the blaster fire could open on her position. “Cover me!”

Without waiting for a reply, Bo-Katan’s thrusters engaged to send her into the air. In one fluid motion, the Mand’alor was dropping from the sky, allowing gravity to control her speed and the troopers body to cushion her fall. The trooper on the turret caved under the weight of her boots, with the feeling of bones cracking as she pushed herself off of him a relief in her mind that he would not be getting up.

Her shield engaged, while she pressed into melee combat to free up enough room around the turret. When she made the room, Bo-Katan smacked an ion grenade against the barrel, before springing back off in the direction of relative safety.

Blaster fire rained heavy on the ground around the small squad of Mandalorians, dirt, sand, and other debris tossed into the air with each shot around their stomping boots. A gloved hand shot out to grab Bo-Katan by the leather strap of her holster, tugging her under cover just in time for a burning red bolt of plasma to whizz through the air where she’d been only moments before. Bo dug her boots into the ground to change momentum, settling her elbows into the durasteel that The Armorer had pulled her behind.

Yellow bolts fired from her Westar’s found homes in stormtrooper plastoid. The next one to pull her from an inevitable headshot had been Koska, who’d caught the E-11’s glint as the shot charged.

“Hey!” Bo called to her golden helmeted companion as she reached for the blaster of a fallen stormtrooper. The sturm dowels were removed from their power packs, before she was launching them into the offensive firing line. Explosions reflected in The Armorer’s visor as she turned her attention to the Mandalore. “You remember what we talked about, a few weeks ago?”

A blaster whizzed past which she felt graze the side of her helmet and sear the paint. Shaking her head, Bo fired back into the enemy line. “I’m ready, I want to say the vows, with you, if you’ll have me!”

Din’s head snapped to the two warriors, though he remained silent as he covered where The Armorer’s defense faltered. “Would everyone bear witness?” She questioned to the closing squad.

“This is the way,” Echoed from the two children of the watch, while Koska and Axe took three seconds to slide credits into waiting gloves, before they called their approvals over the blaster fire.

“Keep us covered!” Bo-Katan tugged The Armorer so their heads were covered by the barricades. It was far from rare for Mandalorians to say the vows on the battlefield, all they truly needed to do was recite the vows with a witness present, and then trade a piece of armor (or, on the off chance one of them did not make it, the armor would be given before the last rites and the songs were sung before the pyre.

Bo took The Armorer’s hands in her own, lasers like fireworks overhead as the two took cover between their friends. ”Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde” They spoke together, The Armorer shifting so her helmet rested against Bo-Katan’s in a keldabe kiss. Truly, it was what the redhead had always imagined the situation would be like for her, though she had never really considered there would ever be somebody on the other end.

“Ibic haar Yust.” Sounded from those who bore witness, and the Mand’alor gave herself a moment to breathe, before she and The Armorer were rising as one.

The pair moved past their defenses in tandem, Bo-Katan nearly pressed against The Armorer’s back, firing over her shoulder as her newly appointed Riduur bashed her tools into troopers, cracking plastoid, flesh, and bone as they went.

The gauntlet soared overhead, turrets raining blaster fire down to help clear the path, as the rest of the squad filed in close order, covering their leaders backs as they found their opening.

Grogu was an exceptional pilot, they learned. When they piled onto the gauntlet, the apprentice was at the controls, using the Force to man the turrets and his hands wrapped around the throttle, standing on the console to be able to reach. Din slid into the seat to get them in the air, as Axe and Koska jumped onto the turret controls, allowing the Jetti turned Mando to fall into his fathers arms, clearly spent from using his abilities.

Bo-Katan pulled her helmet off the moment the ramp was raised and they were shooting back into atmo. “Ragnar, blow it,” Came the order, which the teenager was more than happy to comply with. The explosions from the factories control rooms shook even their ship as they started to breach from the moon’s gravitational pull.

“We can send squads to ensure there are no survivors, and set up our own base of operations in whatever remains, to search out any other factories they may have gotten running,” The Armorer decided, looking to Bo for approval.

“I’ll put out a call to volunteers as soon as we land, Axe, Ragnar, would you two take lead on the operation?”

“Of course, Lady Kryze,” Axe nodded his head as he turned from the console. There were no TIE fighters swarming their position yet, promising that if the hit wasn’t a total wipe, it was still substantial enough to put them on their ass.

“So,” Koska started as she pulled her own helmet away, leaning back in her seat as she looked between Bo and The Armorer. “Bo, you owe me fifty creds for not waiting until next month,”

Axe laughed openly from his seat where he was cleaning his blaster, and Bo snorted. “Seriously? You two made bets?”

“Speaking of,” Din turned in the pilots seat once the autopilot engaged, causing Koska to groan and pass over more credits.

“Really, Din?” Bo shook her head in mock disappointment, though her expression changed to shock as Din handed the credits to Grogu. “My favorite green nephew, seriously?”

“Patu,” Grogu babbled with a crooked smile, his ears laying flat as he stuffed the credits in his pouch.

Shaking her head, Bo-Katan dropped herself into an open seat beside The Armorer, letting herself lean into the warmth of the woman behind her, instead of against the backrest. “I see how it is,”

“Do we still get to come to the wedding?” Koska asked, causing Bo to roll her eyes as the younger niteowl plastered a shit-eating grin onto her face

“You were literally just there,”

“You two still need to exchange armor,” Axe pointed out, kicking his feet up on the console, “Then it’ll be official, then she really will be walking the way of the Mand’alor,”

“Why are you two like this?” Bo questioned, though she knew she would receive no response. Instead, she turned towards The Armorer. “Have you thought about what piece you’d like to exchange?” Typically, a gauntlet or a pauldron would be traded off, though Bo-Katan’s full armor varied greatly from The Armorer’s helmet and chest plate.

The golden helmeted warrior paused in thought, before reaching to her own armor. “I give you my heart, Lady Kryze,” She spoke softly as she pulled the kar’ta from her armor. Even with the Riduurok taken, the woman still waited for Bo-Katan’s permission before removing the Mand’alor’s own Iron Heart.

Bo-Katan’s hand closed around The Armorer’s once both their hearts rested in her palms. “I readily give my own,” She confirmed, squeezing the hands in her own. The Armorer slid the red heart into the open space in her chest, as Bo-Katan did the same with her own against The Armorer’s chest. They weren’t perfect fits, but Bo-Katan had the perk of being with the tribes best blacksmith to perfect the fit.

Obi-Wan had a Mandalorian lover. Obi-Wan is basically useless by himself, not remembering to take care of himself due to all sorts of past trauma and lack of self worth. Obi-Wan also loves kids.

His lover - some person of the Fett clan (which has split into multiple factions so no Fett can actually confirm or deny things) judging by the clones' appearances - decided to create clones of himself to raise as kids/backups in case he perished so that Obi-Wan would never be left alone. Plus Obi-Wan is at high risk of killed being a Jedi married to a Mandalorian, so he's excluded from being welcomed by either groups. The lover also refused to acknowledge the clones as his children. The clones have rapid-aging chips in them to make them adults.

Conclusion: the lover actually meant for the clones to be his replacement (but Obi-Wan is in denial of that particular fact). This is also the time of the Mandalorian Civil War and Clan Wars so the risk of death is pretty high and unfortunately the lover's fears of perishing... came true.

Obi-Wan now has a harem of clones serving at his beck and call. The leader of Obi-Wan's harem is called Cody, but they all pretend to be a small military group because Obi-Wan is still grieving for his fallen lover. (Obi-Wan is actually grieving for all the friends that no longer exist).

-

Obi-Wan: …why are people out there saying that I was future!Jango’s lover

Cody: Sip your tea Sir. You must have misheard before your morning cup of tea.

-

People misunderstand Obi-Wan to be from some rich, elite perhaps runaway Prince type of background.

Trained force sensitive people are rich people who can afford (and have the influence to be able) to hire Jedi/force sensitive trainers. They also have more reasons to be against giving up their children to the Jedi Temple such as arranged marriages and heirship.

Obi-Wan is also used to some luxuries that only rich people (or Jedi’s) are used to. Plus his mannerism and expansive knowledge points to being a highly educated elite. Being an elite would also explain a lot of gaps of knowledge he has about the present since only elites can ignore important and groundbreaking events like famines (aka the era Obi-Wan has time traveled to.)

Meanwhile Obi’s lover must be of a lower status than Obi-Wan for his clones to automatically defer and serve Obi-Wan like it's normal. (Normal people don't think of doing something so insane as creating clones of themselves in what is basically slavery otherwise.) Plus no one knows who he is or called him out for having a (almost) Jedi for a lover so evidently he is more of a common Mando background.

-

Insert scene of Obi-Wan prancing around in 7 layers of silk and a few clones chasing him, trying to add more layers (and amour) onto Obi-Wan.

The casual Mandalorian on the side of the road stop to stare at the gorgeous sight. With Obi-Wan not in amour and in flowing silk, he looks more like he belonged in a bedroom getting ready for bed than being out in public.

Tech was worried.

Tech was never worried. Not like this. He’d seen grisly injuries in his time, but he’d never seen someone’s condition deteriorate so fast before. Not from a simple stab wound, anyway. It didn’t really add up, so Tech started running tests, unbeknownst to Hunter and the others. They were all far too stressed to be of any use to Tech right now. Tech was content with just himself for company, for the time being. The others had picked up on Tech’s odd discomfort whenever he glanced at you in Hunter’s bunk. Tech’s lack of word vomiting about your condition was making them all suspicious. Wrecker, on the other hand, was attempting to distract Omega but she was proving hard to distract, especially when you were laid up in the bunks and looked almost like a corpse. Still, she tried to keep her attention on Wrecker, as hard as that was, and tried to forget you were there. She kept telling herself that you’d wake up soon and be absolutely fine, just a bit too much blood lost, that was all. But, something inside of her bright mind was screaming at her to help, yet she just couldn’t indulge it. Hunter was silent. He’d been barking orders and pacing for the first few hours, then all of a sudden he realised that was getting you all nowhere. Echo had been hastily piloting the ship, searching for anything that was remotely like a medical facility, with Tech’s occasional assistance. The unprepared jump into hyperspace had messed with the navigation, and Echo was doing his best to do without it. The strange thing, though, was that the infamous Bad Batch had been in such worse situations before, either on their own or together, and they’d all acted as if it was fine because they trusted one another so deeply. They just knew by instinct that nothing could really go wrong for any of them, the were too good at their jobs. Yet, for some unknown reason, they didn’t trust themselves with looking after you. It wasn’t until Tech’s own tests came back that he finally saw the missing piece to the puzzle of your rapidly deteriorating condition. It was poison, the blades were finely laced with poison of some sort. He’d need a chemical breakdown of a sample to figure out exactly what had entered your system, and how it was hurting you, but he had a starting point. And that was better than nothing.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Hunter hated seeing you this way. He loved it when you were up and about, busy doing things, buzzing around the Havoc Marauder with Omega in tow. He didn’t like you when you were like this, out cold in the bunks, unresponsive to Tech’s voice, and running a dangerously high fever now. It had all set in so quickly in the last few hours that it made Hunter want to vanish, and take you away with him, so he could look after you all on his own. As much as he really appreciated the help from the others, Hunter’s instincts were pointing in another direction entirely. Tech, in all his wisdom, had set up and IV to keep you hydrated and somewhat stable, but even Tech could only do so much. Omega was nervous too, and she was a medical assistant for a brilliant Kaminoan. Those guys meant business, and what Hunter wouldn’t do for their help right now. If he could, he would order the others to wait on some distant planet whilst he piloted the ship straight to Kamino and exchanged himself for your care. He’d spend a hundred days in a Kaminoan facility if it meant you had a 1% chance of survival. Hunter was so deep in thought that he didn’t register Omega coming to his side, with her Bad Batch trooper in her fidgeting hands. Hunter was fixated on you, and only you. He’d sat by your side in the bunks constantly. He had been the one who placed you in his bunk, after Tech and Echo had seen to your arm. Wrecker had spent the last hour just wiping up blood from the floor, and there was more to go. It had dried now, but the entire ship smelled of it, even more so to Hunter’s heightened senses. It was nearly choking him, but he tried not to think about it.

“She’ll wake up,” Omega kept saying whenever she checked in on Hunter and you, “she’s got to.” .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Luckily, Omega was right. You stirred after twelve straight hours of being deeply asleep, and when your eyes finally wrenched themselves open, all you wanted to do was close them again. The lights of the ship were blindingly bright, they stabbed into your eyeballs and made them cry. The tears ran fast, and you turned your head, only to feel as if you’d been frozen into a cryo sleep for a hundred years. Every bone, muscle and nerve screamed with the slightest movement, touch, sense. Your voice was lost in the desert that had overtaken your throat and mouth. Maker, what you wouldn’t give for a drop of purified water right now– Omega was there, holding a flask to your lips. She slipped a hand under your head and lifted you towards the flask, your weak arms went to take it, but they felt as if they were on fire at the effort. You dropped them to your sides, and let Omega keep watering you. When you’d emptied that flask, Omega produced another one straight after, and held it to you. She sat there, patiently, as you drank and drank. The lights of the ship assaulted your eyes each second they were open, but you resisted the temptation to fall back asleep. “Thank you my darling.” You wheezed as Omega took the second flask away, now bone dry. She went to lift up a third, but your head flopped down to the pillow again. “Do you want me to get the others?” Omega whispered, as to not alert them. You half opened your eyes and tried to see Omega clearly, but your vision was all fuzzy and far away. It was like your eyes weren’t actually yours. “Sure, tell them to be quiet.” You croaked, turning onto your side that didn’t have a recent stab wound in it. Omega waved the others in, and you watched, through lazy eyes, as they came in. It was like a burst of energy, Hunter at the front, right by your side. Tech and Echo came bumbling in, and Wrecker last, very quietly with Omega in tow. Hunter pushed the stray hairs out of your face, and tried to look at you in your eyes. They were too messed up to look into, you thought, as he ran his hands over your face. You didn’t look right at all, not to any of them, and they knew that they needed to find help, real help. “May I speak to her?” Tech shuffled forward, kneeling down next to Hunter. “Just be very quiet, she’s not really here.” Omega warned, from behind Wrecker, who was as still as a statue. He really took the ‘no noise’ thing seriously from Omega. “I, uh, hope the painkillers are working. We stopped off for fuel and meds a few hours back, and I’ve done some tests in the meantime.” He pushed his goggles off of his eyes and looked at the floor, almost unable to deliver the news with Hunter right there next to him. His brother, his family. “I believe the daggers were laced with some sort of poison. What exactly it is, I am not sure. I’d need more equipment and time to decipher that, which we don’t have.” Your hand reached out for Tech’s face groggily, and he let you find his shoulder. “I’m... putting all of the meds we can use into you, until we find help, so just try to rest for now.” His hand awkwardly patted yours, and then he disappeared back into the ship. Hunter took his place, and held your hand in his, putting it to his forehead like he was in prayer. Echo came to see you, promising to fly the ship as fast as he could to the nearest planet with a good hospital, before giving you a gentle kiss on the forehead and leaving you alone. Wrecker asked Omega if he could say hello, if you’d remember it, if you’d be mad at him for talking to you. Omega had to join Wrecker, he was so worried, and Hunter encouraged Wrecker to talk to you. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help, I’m normally good at that.” Omega hugged Wrecker’s large arm, reminding him that she was there to support him. He wasn’t alone facing you, in this state, and Hunter was there too. “She knows you would’ve done everything to protect her. It was... my fault, I didn’t notice the attacker soon enough, and here we are.” Hunter told Wrecker with a sorrowfully low voice, holding onto your hand with a burning sense of regret and shame. He could’ve taken the hit, saved you from this pain, this poison. The others could definitely have handled it if it had been Hunter who was injured, but seeing you like this? It wasn’t right, not in the slightest. Wrecker and Omega slowly departed, Omega tugging the drooping form of Wrecker away. Wrecker wasn’t the brightest star in the sky, but he sure was the soppiest. It made him upset to see you in pain, so drained of energy. You weren’t the woman he knew, and that scared him. It scared him even more that there was just nothing he could really do apart from be there. He didn’t like that feeling. Now, it was just you and Hunter, not that you really noticed in your state, it was as if you were a shell of what you should be, but you were still clinging on, somehow. You were being forced by this poison to mock how you would look in death, and it was so unbelievably cruel, thought Hunter, that once you were better he’d track down whoever did this and make them pay in such unimaginably horrific ways. “I make a vow to you,” He began, quiet as whisper, “as someone I would be honoured and blessed to call my riduur.” He closed his eyes, “I vow to find whoever did this when you are recovered, and I will go to the edges of this galaxy, even if it means being apart from you, to bring revenge down on them.” Hunter never thought in his life that he’d be making a vow to someone he’d considered his riduur, partner in life, in order to take revenge out on their attacker. Maker forbid it became your murderer. There would be no force in the entire galaxy that would stop him, and he was fine with that. If he became a monster, so be it, he would make sure that this person never got away with this again. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. Echo was piloting the Havoc Marauder for hours straight after laying eyes on you. His face looked haunted, and he was. He could not believe how at the end of your tether you looked, and he was putting the ship into overdrive to find a planet with a damn doctor on it. Tech was helping every so often, chipping in with recommendations to get the speed up, avoid the longer hyperspace routes, take shortcuts. Echo was really risking the integrity of the ship’s engine with the way he was treating the thing, but no one was saying anything, not even Tech, the ship’s number one fan. Echo was losing hope, losing sleep, until a beep on the radar made him slam on the brakes and drop out of hyperspace. Wrecker and Tech launched themselves at the cockpit, staring at the glass, expecting something grand, something lifesaving, no less. And it was grand. Naboo, the planet of fucking Naboo, was sitting right in front of them. How they’d ended up here, Echo wasn’t entirely sure, but still, Echo’s heart leapt, and he slammed the ship into its fastest speed heading straight towards the beautiful planet with a dazed grin on his face. The others told Hunter the news, and he went limp with the shock of it, they’d only gone and stumbled across fucking Naboo! Tech took over and navigated the landing at the nearest hospital, before Wrecker scooped you up, wrapped in Hunter’s blanket, and ran out to the hospital. The rest of the Bad Batch followed suit once the ship had been safely landed as close to the hospital as they dared, and they watched as a team of doctors and nurses in classic Naboo finery took you away, behind the closed doors of the hospital. Omega couldn’t help but cry a little bit at seeing you go so quickly, and Wrecker had to pick her up and carry her away for a while. Though no one would ever admit it, it was hard living on the Havoc Marauder, it was constantly close quarters, and feelings were often canned up and released at a later time. Wrecker and Omega didn’t return for some time, supposedly letting off the steam they had built up, and even Echo said he was going for a walk when Tech proposed returning to the ship. It was as if your ghost haunted the Marauder, and not a single one of them wanted to go back onboard. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. The Bad Batch had remained outside the hospital, even after being asked to move the Marauder to a safe distance. The sky was painting itself as a sunset, and each member of the Bad Batch were waiting as patiently as they could for news of your condition. It wasn’t until the night sky had settled over Naboo that someone started walking towards the Bad Batch from the hospital. It was a nurse, admittedly a little on the young side, but clearly equipped with boundless knowledge from the way she spoke. In fact, Omega was right in pointing out that it was the same nurse who had first spotted the Bad Batch landing. She delivered some good news, and some bad news. “I am pleased to inform you that your friend is stable, but she is quite ill. We expect to run some initial tests tomorrow morning, but for the night we will assign a nurse to her in case she declines in condition again.” Echo did most of the talking, being all polite and charming, as he was. The nurse then turned to Tech, who was sitting against the Marauder, not paying much interest. “I hear it was you who kept your friend alive for so long, I really must commend you on your medical skills, sir.” Tech’s eyes nearly popped out of his goggles. He stood up, dusting himself off, and said his thank you to the nurse. She nodded before departing, but then turned around, her face in a downcast expression. “There is also the matter of payment for the treatment to be discussed with the doctor of the ward, whenever one of you is ready, of course. There is no rush, really, it’s just formalities. I bid you all a good night, and please rest assured knowing that your friend is in excellent hands.” The nurse returned to the hospital, having done her part. Omega asked the others if they could camp outside tonight, watch the night sky and hope that you recovered quickly. Wrecker and Echo said it was a brilliant idea, and started up the Marauder to go somewhere a bit less busy than a major hospital. Hunter was silent, thinking constantly about the sound the dagger had made when it sunk into your arm, the smell of blood and sour poison filling the air when he removed the blade. He should’ve known it was poison by how horrible it smelt, but he didn’t think, didn’t pick up on it at all. Maybe you wouldn’t be in such a dire condition if Hunter had been in the right frame of mind for once. Ever since that mountain, up in the trees, he has struggled to concentrate on anything but you. When he wakes up after a long flight, he looks for you first. Then, Omega and the others shortly after. Your scent is the very first one he can pick out from the ship, your laugh is better than anything else he’s ever heard, your voice is always easy to pick out above all others. He could sit and wait on you for hours, doing your every request just to see you smile, or even smirk at him. Even under the pressure of battle you were unavoidable. He couldn’t escape you. His every move had you in mind, were you safe, were you winning, were you looking at him? He realised after the mountain that he’d been gravitating towards you unknowingly, and had greedily seized at the chance to ‘teach’ you that day. The only thing he could think about cleary that night was ‘look at where my stupid ass has gotten me, and her’. You, alone in that hospital, not well enough to survive without the best medicine Naboo could provide. The last thing on Hunter’s mind was the cost, anything was worth saving you, he’d come to terms with that the second you passed out from the stab wound. Maker, he’d considered trading himself over to the strange Kaminoans if it meant you getting medical treatment. He wondered how that would’ve gone down now, if they hadn’t made it to Naboo in time, thanks to Echo’s mad piloting of the hyperspace routes and Tech’s quick calculations of whereabouts you would arrive in the galaxy after dropping out of hyperspace. Hunter told himself to thank the others for all of their endless work trying to save you, but the words died on his mind. He stared at the campfire Omega had constructed with Tech’s assistance, and Echo’s, and let it blind him into sleep. Or, what would’ve been sleep. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.