#same heart

“Ionne!” he says in a strangled whisper. “Fuck, don’t sneak up on me like that. What are you doing awake?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” she says, her voice low.

“I’m fine. Go back to bed,” he says, terse. She crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow at him, lips pursed.

“Bullshit. I’ve never been able to startle you before,” she says sternly. He doesn’t respond, but can’t hold her gaze. Ionne relaxes herself and softens her tone, quietly saying his name as she steps forward and rests a hand on his chest.

“Cross, please. Was the nightmare that bad?” she asks. He tenses, suspicious.

“How did you know?”

“Call it a natural skill after having so many of my own,” she says. Crosshair sighs heavily, his shoulders drooping as he leans back against the counter and crosses his arms.

“Fine,” he says, giving in but still not looking at her. “I don’t remember everything, but you were scared of me, you screamed and hit the ground. I had to have done something to you,” he says. To anyone else listening, he’d sound unaffected, but after so much time, Ionne knows him well enough to pick up the subtle rise in the pitch of his voice.

“It was just a dream baby, I know you’d never hurt me,” she says. It was the first time she’d called him that, and it seems to have helped calm him down, at least a little. He’s able to look at her again.

“You’re still thinking about the fuckup with the tank, but I’m okay,” Ionne says. She moves her hand up from his chest and gently cups the side of his face.

“Thank the Maker,” he says, his voice cracking. He dips his head down and hides his face in her neck, catching her off guard. He shudders and she wraps her arms tightly around him, moving her hand from his face to the back of his head while the other brushes across his shoulders.

“I know baby, I know. I’m not going anywhere, I promise,” she whispers.

“You’d better not,” he says thickly, holding her just as close.

After a few minutes, Crosshair stops shaking and his grip on Ionne loosens. He steps back and she asks if he’s alright now. He stares at her for a moment, then shifts his hands to her shoulders.

“Not yet,” he says softly before pulling her flush against him and crashing his lips into hers. She melts into him and when she opens up, their tongues dance as they both desperately taste each other.

As this continues, his hands slide from Ionne’s upper arms to her waist before grabbing a handful of her ass and making her moan against his mouth. In turn, she slips a finger into the waistband of his blacks and teasingly drags her nail across his heated skin, barely brushing over the base of his cock. His hips jerk forward into hers as he groans.

Holding his waistband like a tether, Ionne takes a few steps backward and steers Crosshair toward the room's single armchair before pushing him down into it and climbing into his lap, straddling his legs. Her lips meet again, and she slips her hand between his thighs to palm his cock over his blacks. He groans again and starts to tug at her leggings.

Ionne knows what he wants and happily shimmies out of the garment before aiming carefully and tossing the leggings across the room, where they land on the bed with a soft ‘fwump’. Now fully bare, she grinds her wet cunt down against Crosshair's straining cock, moaning softly into his ear. He hisses through his teeth and smacks her ass, but not hard enough to make a noticeable sound. Still, she arches her back and cries out his name, paying no mind to her volume.

“Careful kitten,” Crosshair says, leaning forward to purr into her ear. “You’ll wake him.” she laughs.

“Bit late for that,” she says, giggling.

Crosshair glances across the room to find Echo, wide awake and sitting up to face the two of them on the nearest edge of the bed. Crosshair immediately lifts his hands away from Ionne, but she laughs again as she continues to grind herself against him.

“Oh no, don’t let me stop you,” Echo says, freeing his own hard cock from his blacks and stroking himself lazily as he watches the two of them.

“Pervert,” Crosshair says with a smirk. He smacks Ionne’s ass again, this time with an audible ‘crack’ that makes her whine.

As she does, she feels his cock twitch against her bare pussy and moves backwards enough to grab his waistband again. She starts to tug his blacks down, and he leans forward to kiss her before he slaps her ass a third time, using the sound to mask his voice.

“Have you two-?” he asks, quietly enough that only Ionne can hear him.

“Not yet,” Ionne says, just as quiet. Crosshair nods, seemingly to himself, then tells her to stand.

Ionne complies, and he strips naked before taking a moment to turn the chair so that it’s directly facing Echo. He leans over and grabs her by the hips, pulling her into his lap with her back against his chest, then slips his cock, leaking precum, against her dripping pussy, slotting himself cleanly between her lips and rubbing perfectly against her clit. After this, he cups one of her breasts with a firm hand, and wraps his free arm around her waist, holding her tightly in place against him.

Ionne’s body clenches around nothing, and Crosshair begins to thrust his cock along her cunt, being careful not to slip inside. He rests his chin on her shoulder, breathing heavily into her ear and occasionally sucking at her neck. She moans, and he responds by rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, the stimulation making her shiver and gasp his name. He picks up the pace and she starts to feel that familiar coil wind tight in her lower belly.

“Oh fuck,” she gasps, and Crosshair moves his hand from her tit to her clit. While he brings her closer to the edge, his hips never lose rhythm and his breathing grows ragged against her skin. Ionne whines again when he rubs against her clit just right, and she makes eye contact with Echo, who is still watching her and jacking himself off with purpose now. Crosshair bites into her shoulder and Ionne moans his name again.

“Go on and give him a show, kitten,” he says.

Her thighs clench and she does as she’s told. Ionne grabs onto the arms of the chair before arching her back and allowing herself to freely vocalize her pleasure, all the while holding Echo’s gaze.

“Fuck, you look gorgeous like this,” Echo croaks, his hand moving faster.

“God damned right you do,” Crosshair growls into her ear before doubling his efforts with her clit. Her entire body spasms and Ionne feels her orgasm approaching like a runaway train as Echo says her name.

“Eyes on me as you come, understand?” he says, and the sudden, unfamiliar dominance in his voice sends a thrill through her.

“F-fuck, yes sir!” she shouts, locking eyes with Echo as her peak washes over her like a tidal wave. Upon hearing Ionne call him ‘sir ’, Echo curses loudly and cums hard enough to hit her in the chest.

“That’s our good girl,” Crosshair pants as his own cum spills between her thighs. She suddenly clenches her legs at his words, trapping his cock between them, and whimpers.

“Aw, you like it when I praise you, kitten?” he asks, and Ionne can practically hear the smirk on his face.

Normally she’d bite back with a snarky comment, but in the haze after her orgasm, Ionne instead turns her head and breathes ‘god, yes ’ into his ear.

“Yes, what?” Echo says, suddenly much closer to Ionne, his breath breezing across her skin as he speaks. She looks and finds him standing at an angle over the two of them, holding his scomp on the back of the chair and his hand on her knee, watching her closely.

“S-sir, yes sir,” she says, breathless.

“That’s better,” Crosshair says, chuckling darkly.

After the two men exchange a glance, Crosshair slips away from her clit, but before Ionne can protest, Echo takes his place, starting to finger her and making her gasp as she stretches around him. He begins to move, quickly rubbing tight circles around that specific place inside of her that she can never reach on her own. her hips involuntary jerk forward and at the same time, Crosshair takes hold of her jaw and turns her head to face him.

He kisses Ionne again, but where before he was hurried and desperate, this time he’s much softer, though no less energetic. Echo, now moving at random between penetrating Ionne and working her sensitive clit, angles himself down further and kisses her along her neck and collarbone, equally soft. The intense feeling of adoration blowing from the two of them makes her shiver in the best way.

Echo touches her just right and as her hips jerk forward again, she turns her head to gasp. His lips meet hers and Crosshair takes his turn at mouthing along her neck, occasionally nipping at her skin. He finds where he’s bitten her earlier and sucks at the mark, making Ionne whimper into Echo’s mouth. Echo greedily drinks up her every sound and uses more pressure as he circles her clit.

Ionne breaks away and moans his name, noticing how the sound makes his cock twitch towards her. She tries to reach a hand out to him, but finds herself unable to move. Crosshair has pinned her wrists to the arms of the chair with his hands. Ionne moves against him and he quickly loosens his grip on her. He quickly asks if she’s okay, and when she says yes he resumes holding her down and lavishing as much of her skin as he can reach with his mouth.

When Ionne feels his teeth graze her bruised shoulder, she immediately finds herself on the edge of another orgasm. Echo says her name and gets her attention.

“Can you be a good girl and come for us again?” he asks, his voice deepened by lust.

“Yes, yes sir, please,” she begs, giving up on her pride entirely.

“What do you think?” Echo says, shooting a glance at Crosshair.

“Well, she did say ‘please ’,” Crosshair purrs.

Echo focuses entirely on fingering her while Crosshair’s thumb returns to her clit and continues to rub tight, fast circles into it. Her hips jerk forward and her whole body spasms. Oversensitive and overstimulated, Ionne comes with a loud cry as she soak Echo’s hand and Crosshair's legs.

The two men carefully lift their hands away from her, and Echo ducks into the refresher for a moment before coming back with a warm, damp towel and cleaning her up. As he does, Ionne relaxes her muscles and lays her head back against Crosshair's shoulder, panting for breath. He gently cups the side of her face and kisses her.

“I love you so fucking much, kitten,” he whispers.

Struck dumb by the intensity of her second orgasm, all she can do in response is grin at him while she grips his hand.

“He’s not the only one,” Echo says, tossing the soiled towel aside and kissing her softly as he kneels before her. Still gasping for air, Ionne cups the side of his face with her free hand.

“Come on,” he continues, “let’s get you back to sleep.”

Ionne nods and stands on legs that feel like jelly before stumbling forward onto the bed. She has enough energy left to crawl under the duvet before falling into a heavy, fucked-out sleep almost immediately.

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That had been years ago, although Ionne doesn't know exactly how many. Long enough for the Jedi to be slaughtered and for the Empire to take over, she does at least know that much. She refuses to accept that they were all traitors; she had worked with them for years and never once got the feeling that anything was wrong.

She pauses and backtracks her thoughts a little to reflect on how familiar her current situation is; once again, she has decided to drop everything and leave for another planet. She never stayed anywhere long enough to put down any roots. In fact, after more than a few people learn her name, outside of whoever she works for, she takes off again.

Deep down, Ionne knows that she’re trying to run from the life she left behind; the memories, the loss; but she never consciously acknowledges it. She just tells herself that she has grown restless and bored, so that’s why she’s leaving again. Ionne has lost count of how many places she’s been by this point. For all the planet-hopping she has been doing the past however many years, so far, nowhere she’s stayed has felt like ‘home’.

She glances up at the info screen at the head of the shuttle's cabin and sees that she’re about half an hour away from Ord Mantell, a mid-rim planet which she’s never heard of before today. Maybe this place will be different. But my hopes aren’t high, she thinks to herself.

A week after arriving, she found a place to stay and to work. She isn’t particularly enjoying the months she’s spent at the cantina, but it’s better than the sanitation job she had on the last planet, and she knows she likely won’t stay for very long anyway. Cid, despite her coarse, in-your-face attitude, is a marginally better boss than Ionne’s last one. Cid didn’t ask where she came from or why she was here, and made it clear she doesn’t really care. “Just do your job, that’s the only thing I give a damn about,” she’d said. One of the things Ionne likes about this planet is that everybody here seems to mind their own business.

As part of her employment agreement with Cid, she is allowed to stay in one of the small rooms upstairs. It’s here, on the top floor, that she spends most of her time, lounging on the large window sill and staring out over the city without really looking at anything, and this afternoon is no different.

Ionne idly scans over the crowd in the nearby square, then double takes back to a point near the street. She can’t remember the last time she’d seen a human man that big. His size is exaggerated by the small blonde girl who is tagging along with him, followed by maybe two or three other, more average sized men. There’s a flicker of familiarity that she can’t quite place in the back of her mind. When she takes a closer look, she notices that the men are all wearing armor. But it isn’t Imperial stormtrooper armor, are they clones? None of them look like clones.

She doesn’t have a lot of time to think about this, however. As the chrono on her wrist chimes the hour, Cid hollers Ionne’s name from the staircase, right on the dot like she always does. Time to start her shift. Ionne shouts that she’s coming, and after hearing Cid’s footsteps retreat down the creaking stairs, she glances out over the crowd again, but the people she saw have moved out of view. She sighs heavily, not looking forward to another night of being leered at and hit on while she mixes cheap drinks, but she puts on her shoes and heads to the cantina anyway.

Ionne makes her way downstairs into the bar proper, and Cid sees her, telling her to go into the store room and bring out a new bottle of Spotchka. Ionne acknowledges this, and ducks under the stairs and into the semi-hidden doorway there. It takes her a minute, shuffling objects around in the dim, dusty light, but she eventually finds the bottle. She holds it by the neck and walks back out of the doorway, looking around the place out of habit as she goes.

“Hey Cid, I’ve got the-,” she starts to say, but interrupts herself with a shocked gasp. Her hand goes slack and she drops the bottle, too focused on who she sees before her to notice that it’s shattered and the sticky liquor is soaking into her shoes.

She recognizes the blonde girl and the big guy as the ones she noticed earlier while upstairs; they’re accompanied by a slim man wearing goggles and another with half his face tattooed, but she isn’t paying them any attention. The subject of her stare is standing behind the slim man, staring back at her and looking just as shocked as she feels.

He’s unnaturally pale, and much too thin, but there’s no mistaking that face, those eyes.

It’s Echo.

A sudden blast of dizziness sweeps over Ionne and she stumbles, leaning heavily onto the wall behind her, her hands trembling.

Cid glances between the two, looking almost amused. “Go take a breather in my office,” she says. “I’ll deal with these guys.”

Ionne thanks her, then shakily stands up straight, tearing her eyes away from the man who is supposed to be dead as she goes into a different doorway, the door sliding shut behind her.

Earlier outside, as he followed the others across the square, Echo got an odd sensation that they were being watched. He looked around, but saw nothing, then glanced up at the building they were heading towards, and spotted someone staring out of a window on the top floor. Whoever it was, they were too far away for him to get a good look at, but something about them seemed… familiar? He looked back and found the others ahead of him. Unaware that he stopped walking, he moved quickly to catch up. When he glanced back at the window, whoever was there had left.

Echo shook himself and focused on the blonde girl to make sure she didn’t wander off. He took her, gently but firmly, by the shoulder and steered her into the cantina with the others, following closely behind.

His initial impressions of the place were not good. The cantina was small, not filthy but certainly not clean, and dimly lit. It’s empty, save for two non-humans at a table in the corner and the Trandoshan behind the bar. It’s definitely a hole-in-the-wall kind of place. Something just felt off about it all.

Echo didn’t have much time to examine his surroundings any further before he was distracted by the sound of a door creaking open and shut. He heard a voice, a voice that belonged to someone he knew to be dead, say “Hey Cid, I’ve got the-,” before it’s cut off by a gasp and the sound of breaking glass.

It’s her. He stared in disbelief for a few seconds as Ionne stumbled backwards against the wall.

The Trandoshan, Cid, told her to take a breather in her office. Echo watched her say thanks before she shakily made her way into another room.

The door shuts behind Ionne and she leans heavily backward onto it. Her legs are suddenly too weak to support herself, and she slides down the door and into an awkward seated position on the floor, her head spinning.

It shouldn’t be possible. Echo is supposed to be dead. He was blown up for kriff’s sake! She closes her eyes and tilts her face up towards the ceiling, making a conscious effort to control her breathing. She manages to get a hold of herself within just a few seconds, thanks to years of practice at fighting off panic attacks, and realizes that she can hear the conversation outside. She presses her ear to the door and listens carefully.

Ionne can hear Cid grumbling as she sweeps up the broken glass and dumps it into a nearby waste bin, then bluntly asks how they know her.

“They don’t,” Echo says, sounding shaken. “But I do.”

“Who was that?” a distinctly girlish voice asks, obviously the kid.

“Ionne… my riddur,” he says, barely audible.

Ionne sits up, gets to her feet, and cracks the door open just enough to peek outside and see what’s happening. Echo has moved onto a stool at the bar, and the others are carefully watching him. He’s partially obscured by two of them, so she can only really see him from the shoulders up. He’s bald and appears to be wearing some kind of device over his ears that is molded to the back of his head. She also notices what look like plug ports just above that and elsewhere on his head and wonders what the hell happened to him.

“But I thought you told us-,” the large man says, confused, before the one with the tattooed face shoots him a hard look.

“Well he was obviously misinformed,” the slim man in the goggles says bluntly. “But we have more pressing matters. Hunter?” he says, turning toward the tattooed man.

Hunter pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. “Yes, we do,” he says.

Ionne quietly shuts the door, and makes her way over to a crate on the opposite side of the room. She sits heavily upon it, still faintly able to hear what Hunter and Cid are saying, but not paying them any attention.

Her mind races with questions.

How did Echo survive? What happened to him to make him look like that? She assumes the other men he's with are also clones, but why are they so different? Who’s the little girl? How do they know Cid? If Echo’s alive, does that mean Fives might be too?

The dizzy feeling threatens to overtake her again, but she shakes herself. The action has cleared her head enough for her to return her focus onto the sounds from the other side of the door. She hears booted footsteps approach, and Hunter, who appears to be the leader, speaks in a low voice.

“You can go on and figure this out, I’ve got it handled out here,” he says.

“Yeah, thanks,” Echo says, sounding apprehensive.

“We shouldn’t be going anywhere else for the rest of the day. Take as long as you need to,” Hunter says.

Ionne hears a muffled clapping sound, and guesses that Hunter has gripped Echo’s shoulder for a few seconds before the booted footsteps fade away again. The door slides open, and she gets her first look at Echo in his entirety. His right arm and hand are gone, replaced with a scomp link. She can’t tell for sure, but it looks like both of his legs have been replaced with cybernetics too. She searches his face and sees that he’s avoiding her eyes, seeming to brace himself for something.

She stands from the crate and takes a few long strides across the room, stopping in front of him. Moving slowly, Ionne cautiously raises her hand and cups one side of his face. The warmth and solidity of him assures her that she isn't dreaming. She turns him to look at her, and despite everything that’s changed, his eyes are still the same. She softly says his name, and he says hers in return.

“You should be dead,” she says in a whisper.

“Look who’s talking,” he says, the ghost of a smirk playing across his lips for just a second.

The two of them stand like that for another second or so, then Ionne moves her hands to his shoulders and pulls him close, crashing her lips into his and kissing him deeply. He’s too surprised to react, at first, but quickly relaxes and reciprocates, wrapping his remaining arm around her waist and using the scomp to pull her tightly against his chest.

They hear the distinct sound of Cid clearing her throat and the two of them break apart, caught off guard, to look at her. She’s standing with her arms crossed, but there’s a faint smile on her face. This may be the first time Ionne has ever seen her genuinely smile. Cid clears her throat again.

“If I give you the night off, can you promise not to fuck him in my office?” she says. Echo’s jaw drops in response to her bluntness, but Ionne has grown used to it, and can’t help but smirk at her.

“Deal,” she says, stepping back from Echo.

Cid exaggeratedly rolls her eyes and waves the two of them out of the room.

Just before they reach the stairs, Cid speaks again, prompting Ionne to take a few steps backward to see what she wants. “Try to keep it down,” Cid says, smirking.

“No promises,” Ionne says. Cid rolls her eyes again and walks away, then Ionne takes Echo by the hand and practically drags him up the creaking staircase behind her.

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After a grueling ten minute uphill walk that normally would have taken just three, Ionne and Crosshair came to a stop outside the mouth of a small cave. Before going in, she looked over at him and found he was scanning over the space with the sensor attached to his helmet.

“We’re clear, there’s nothing in there,” he said, as quietly as possible. Ionne nodded at him again and she half-carried him inside.

After they both turned on their attached headlamps, Ionne and Crosshair went as far back into the cave as possible, stopping at the rear wall. She guided him into a sitting position, then knelt beside his injured leg before she removed her helmet and pointed its light directly at the wound. The improvised tourniquet seemed to have done its job, and when Ionne cut it away, Crosshair still bled, but nowhere near as heavily as he had been. Ionne took her med pack off of her back, grabbed a pair of rubber gloves, and swapped them with her regular ones.

“I need to feel for anything I can’t see,” Ionne said. Before Crosshair could react, she started to gently but firmly run her hands over his leg, pressing deeply into his skin. Crosshair grit his teeth and grunted, but was otherwise still and quiet.

“Well, whatever the fuck it was, it didn’t bite deep or hard enough to break any bones,” Ionne said. “However, there is skin and muscle damage that I need to take care of as soon as possible.”

Crosshair watched her grab a bottle of bacta spray and mist it over his torn skin, and he hissed through his teeth at the sting. He reached up and wrenched his helmet off, a sheen of sweat on his forehead despite the surrounding chill. Ionne then prepared a suture and he tried not to show how anxious he was.

“This is gonna hurt, but I have to do it now, so I need you to stay as still as possible,” Ionne said, and something about her calm but firm tone soothed his rising panic, though he’d never admit it. She looked up at his wide eyes and he nodded at her.

She wasn’t lying; it did hurt, a lot. Crosshair grit his teeth and clenched his jaw, barely able to contain a shout. Adrenaline kicked back up, dulling his pain, and he was able to control his breathing again. Ionne looked back up at him apologetically, then pulled the stitches taut, more or less forcing the torn muscle back into place.

Crosshair couldn’t stop himself from crying out as this happened, which echoed through the cave. Breathing heavily, he looked down and saw Ionne preparing another suture. He whined and instinctively tried to back farther away from her, but only succeeded in clenching the freshly stitched muscle in his calf and sending another bolt of pain through his body. He slumped back against the cave wall, panting for breath as tears of pain and exertion escaped the corners of his eyes.

“Crosshair, look at me!” Ionne said, her commanding tone grabbing his attention. “You need to let me close the skin. It fucking hurts, I know, but you’ll be fine, I won’t let anything happen to you,” she continued, maintaining unbroken eye contact with him.

“I thought you hated me,” he said, then groaned when he shifted his leg again.

“I wouldn’t go that far, though I certainly don’t like you,” Ionne admitted. “But I’d be a pretty shitty medic if I let that stop me from taking care of you. Now hold still, this is the last few stitches.”

“Just do it,” Crosshair said, speaking through clenched teeth. Ionne pierced his skin without warning and he was barely able to hold back a shout as his eyes watered over. Ionne worked as quickly as she could, and the wound was tightly closed a minute later. Crosshair was left panting for breath and grimacing against the pain.

“Hey, you’re okay; that was the worst of it, I promise,” she said, having seen this. Her voice was softer, and she rested her hand on his knee, dragging her thumb back and forth over his armor and calming him further. He couldn’t actually feel her touch, but he shivered nonetheless. To his relief, she didn’t seem to notice.

“I’ve just got to clean and bandage it up, then I’ll fuck off, okay?” she continued, and Crosshair felt a surge of guilt over her phrasing. Flustered and trying to hide it, he snapped at her.

“Good, now hurry up,” he spat.

She didn’t flinch at this, and in fact barely reacted to his harsh words in general anymore. Soon enough, her work was done. After pulling her soiled gloves off, she went into her pack one more time and shuffled forward with her canteen and a few small tablets in her hand.

“Here, take these. It won’t kill the pain entirely but it’ll be better than nothing,” Ionne said as she handed the items to him.

“That's not my canteen,” he said, but took the pills with a deep swig of her water regardless.

“I know. Yours is empty,” Ionne said, then took the much lighter container back from him. Crosshair's guilt surged again, but he said nothing.

“You should get some rest, I’ll keep watch,” she continued, her voice now tired, and got to her feet. She walked towards his rifle and he snapped at her again.

“Don’t touch that,” he spat, and she glared over her shoulder at him.

“Wasn’t going to,” she said coolly, passing it as she moved toward the mouth of the cave. “You’re welcome, by the way,” she said without looking at him, though she knew he was scowling at her. He always was.

She sat down near the cave entrance, just out of sight of the outside. She activated her distress beacon, then kept a lookout for both the thing that had attacked them and the rest of the squad.

Less than five minutes had passed before Ionne heard Crosshair softly calling for her. After a cursory glance around outside, she got to her feet and hurried over to him.

“What is it?” she said, keeping her voice low as she knelt beside him.

“Answer your kriffing comm,” he said, pushing her helmet towards her. She held back an irritated sigh, then detached the small, beeping device from the side. She clicked a button, and a wavering image came into view, lighting up the dark cave.

“Ionne, we got your distress call, is Crosshair with you? Are you two alright?” crackled through the static, but despite this she could hear the worry in Hunter's voice.

“Yeah, he’s here; I’m fine but he’s not.”

“What happened?”

“We were arguing, I don’t even remember what about, and something ambushed us. It bit through the armor on his left leg before he was able to shoot at it and scare it off.” Ionne said, and Hunter cursed.

“Shit… How bad is it?”

“No broken bones, but I had to stitch up some tears in the muscle and skin.”

“Better than dead I guess. Where are you?” he asked, and Ionne hesitated. “Ionne… where are you?” Hunter repeated, sounding worried again.

“I… don’t entirely know,” Ionne admitted. “But we can’t be more than a few clicks from where we all split up. We’re in an empty cave halfway up a hill. Can’t you trace the distress beacon?” she asked. Tech moved into view and spoke next.

“Typically, yes, but there’s a fault in the system that is causing it to malfunction. I’m surprised that you were able to send out a signal of any kind,” he said. Ionne’s heart sank, and in the background, she heard Hunter make a sound of frustration.

“God dammit Tech! The second we get back on the ship you’re fixing that; I can’t believe you didn’t say anything!” he snapped.

“My focus was on collecting data on this planet for the mission. Which, by the way, included a map of the area with landmarks like caves noted.” Tech fired back.

“Really?” Ionne said. “Do you think that’ll help?”

“The map is rudimentary, but I’ve worked with less information in worse circumstances.” Tech said, then paused for a moment. “That said, I don’t know how long it will take for us to find you. Are you somewhere safe?”

“Safe is a stretch,” Ionne said. “But we’re sheltered and there’s only one way in or out.”

“That will have to do,” Hunter said, taking over again. “Better buckle down, it’s supposed to drop into the negatives tonight.”

Ionne thanked him, then clicked off the holo-comm. Crosshair, having heard everything, huffed, getting her attention.

“And just how are they going to know which cave we’re in? You can’t expect them to wander blindly into the dark, hoping they find us and not another pissed off animal,” he said, narrowing his eyes at her. Ionne thought for a moment, then went back into her pack. She rummaged around for a few seconds, mumbling to herself, before finding a large chemical light. She took it, and a roll of adhesive bandage tape, and returned to the mouth of the cave. She cracked the light and shook it, activating it, then used the tape to hang it up outside.

Ionne turned back towards Crosshair, illuminated by the bright yellow-green of the chemical light. As she walked deeper inside, the light seemed to form an aura around her, giving her an almost otherworldly appearance. She met his eyes, and he had to focus in order to keep his heart rate steady and his face neutral.

She went into her pack a third time, then sat down next to him on his left, close enough for their bodies to touch, with two things in her hands. One was a ration bar that she broke into two uneven pieces, before she handed him the larger portion.

“You’ll need the energy to heal,” she said, her voice still soft, like it had been just before she applied the second suture to his leg. Her calm tone eased his faint anxiety, and he mumbled out a ‘thanks’ before eating it.

Once Ionne had finished her share of the ration bar, she showed Crosshair the other thing she’d taken out of her pack; an emergency thermal blanket, folded tightly into a bag about the size of a datapad. She opened it up, then flapped it out. It was large enough to cover two or three people, and she draped it over him, tucking it between his back and the wall, but left nothing for herself.

With that done, Ionne leaned back against the wall, crossed her arms, and pulled her knees close to her chest in an attempt to hold in as much body heat as she could. Crosshair watched her shiver for about a minute, then sighed, and she glanced over at him.

“Do you need something else?” she asked.

“Yeah, I need you alive, so shut up and come here,” he said, untucking half the blanket from himself and holding it open, clearly showing the space he’d made for her. She looked at him, confused.

He rolled his eyes at her.

“I’m not about to let the one who’s taking care of me freeze to death,” he said, then flapped the blanket at her. She watched him for a few seconds, then shrugged. She took off her upper kit and set the armor pieces aside, then told Crosshair to do the same. He gave her a withering look, and she rolled her eyes before explaining herself.

“It’ll be easier to keep each other warm without the plastoid in the way. Skin on skin would be better, but I know that’s not gonna happen,” she said with a smirk.

“Tch. Fine,” he huffed, then followed her lead. With the two of them down to just their blacks up top, Ionne moved in close to him and tucked herself tightly into his side before pulling the blanket back around them both.

Neither of them spoke, and in fact avoided each other's eyes. Ionne was trying not to enjoy Crosshair's warmth too much, and he was focused on how nice her hair smelled.

Eventually, Crosshair fell asleep first, slumping over and inadvertently settling his head into the hollow of Ionne’s shoulder. She froze, startled, but when he didn’t move, she relaxed. She positioned his legs over hers, being careful around his wound, pulled his right arm across her torso, then wrapped her arms around his shoulders and lower back, holding him closely. Once she relaxed, she also fell asleep, her cheek resting on his head.

Ionne was awoken some time later by familiar voices.

“You’re recording this right?”

Ah, there’s Hunter.

“Always. Why?”

And Tech, obviously.

“You know he’s gonna deny this ever happened,” followed by a snort of barely contained laughter.

And that’s Wrecker.

Ionne slowly blinked as she opened her eyes and adjusted to the change in lighting. It looked like she and Crosshair had spent the entire night together in the cave. She yawned and shifted her weight, and Crosshair unconsciously pressed himself closer to her, mumbling something nobody could make out. She smiled softly at him despite herself, shaking her head, then shifted her attention to Hunter, who was smirking.

“Cute. Now get him up, there’s a storm coming and we need to get back to the ship before it hits,” he said. Ionne nodded at him, then addressed Tech.

“I want a copy of this,” she said, gesturing to Crosshair and herself, which made Wrecker laugh loudly, which in turn, woke Crosshair. He grunted as he sat up, and when he saw everyone watching him, he quickly let Ionne go and tried to shift away from her. He only succeeded in clenching the freshly-stitched muscle in his leg and cursing loudly from the pain.

After about ten minutes, once he and Ionne had their armor and helmets back on, she changed his bandages, then tucked everything neatly back into her pack.

She held her hand out to Crosshair in a silent offer to help him to his feet, but, in a repeat of his actions in the snow the night before, he just scowled at her and waved her away. Annoyed, but not surprised, Ionne simply sighed and moved next to Hunter at the mouth of the cave. Predictably, when Crosshair tried to stand, he couldn’t put any weight on his injured leg, and would have collapsed again if Wrecker hadn’t caught him.

As everyone left the cave, Wrecker carried Crosshair bridal-style, and while he cursed and grumbled Ionne tried not to laugh at him.

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