The Havoc Marauder was never quiet, and now was no exception. Wrecker’s snores, Tech’s tinkering, Echo’s quiet muttering in his sleep, the barely audible sounds of Hunter fiddling with his knife. But there was a hole of silence in the quilt of sound, and it was shaped like you. It’s been 15 rotations, not that Crosshair’s counting, without your laugh ringing out, without your back popping loudly as you stretched when you woke up, without your voice whispering his name, as you sleepily let him know it was his turn on watch.

The five of them had been together, and they’d never needed or wanted anyone else in their space, on their team. Crosshair hadn’t even wanted you around at first. Wrecker had warmed to you quickly, but of course a pretty thing like you would never need the hard sell with Wrecker. Hunter had been wary of you, but in an effort to keep Wrecker from getting too attached, he’d inadvertently formed his own attachment to your presence. As for Tech and Echo, they’d kept their distance well enough, but your quiet intelligence, and curiosity had drawn them in.

Crosshair had been the holdout. Incensed by every breath you drew in his presence. The way you checked in with him after every mission, as if he needed you poking and prodding him. But when he needed stitches, you’d asked for permission to help him. If he didn’t want you to touch him, you wouldn’t.

“I’d never do anything without your consent. You’re in control here,” you’d said, holding your kit in steady hands, as you waited for his decision. He’d watched you with rapt attention through the mirror, your fingers resting gently against his skin, as you carefully cleaned, stitched up, and bandaged the wound on his shoulder.

After that, he would silently request your assistance when he needed it, and over time even when he didn’t need it. He would never say it out loud, but bacta patches placed by your gentle hands worked better. Your stitches were nearly painless. And the way you’d hum while you worked…well, that was just adorable.

When Commander Cody had requested you for a short stint, Wrecker had grumbled endlessly, and Crosshair had been the first to tell him to suck it up because you’d be back in their hair soon enough. He needed the space to clear his head, and he hoped the others would come to their senses without you in their presence.

Wrecker admitted to missing you within 12 hours. Tech kept finding excuses to talk about you. Meanwhile Hunter and Echo kept pointing out things you would like, and setting them aside for you. They had also placed bets on when Crosshair would snap and march onto the Negotiator to steal you back. Not that they would be upset if he did.

When it became clear that Crosshair would rather eat his armor than admit to being the least bit interested in you, the four of them had dragged him into the cockpit to decide what they would do when you returned. The feelings were there, and they weren’t going anywhere, but how to proceed.

“We should just come out and say it!” Wrecker said, feeling like the matter was concluded.

“It needs to be a tad more romantic than that,” Echo said shaking his head.

“According to my observations of her, she would appreciate a romantic gesture,” Tech said.

“Flowers?” Wrecker offered.

“She deserves more than flowers for putting up with us,” Echo said laughing.

“We could make a stop on her home world. It’s not too far out of the way,” Hunter added. “I think she’d like that.”

“This is a waste of time,” Crosshair said rolling his eyes. “You’re fooling yourselves.”

“When have Hunter’s senses ever been wrong?” Tech asked not even bothering to look up. “According to what he’s told me, she’s at the very least physically attracted to us. Based on her behavior that extends to an emotional bond as well.”

“What happened to not getting attached?” Crosshair challenged, and his brothers all looked at each other before looking back at him.

“You know you’re not as subtle as you think, Crosshair,” Echo said.

“And if I can tell how anyone’s feeling, it’s the four of you,” Hunter added.

“You’re all delusional,” Crosshair said shaking his head.

“You had her put a bacta patch on your arm last mission, and you coulda done it yourself,” Wrecker said giving the sniper a playful shove.

“She is our medic, she should at least pretend to do a job around here,” Crosshair said defensively. It was a losing battle, and he knew it. The others were blissfully under your spell, but he was not about to let you hurt him. Not about to let you reject him. No matter how badly he wanted you.

But as the clock rolled into the 16th rotation without you, it was Crosshair who hated your absence more than anyone. The others were open about it in their own ways, but he held it close. It was one of the few secrets he’d kept from his brothers. The realization annoyed him, as he swung his long legs over the side of his bunk to take over on watch for Hunter.

Sensing the tension rolling off of his younger brother, Hunter cleared his throat.

“She’ll be back in 2 rotations, and you’ll get to sleep longer again.” He knew it wasn’t sleep Crosshair was after, but it was the best way to let him know you were on your way back without suggesting the sniper actually missed you lest they wind up in another argument.

“Oh good, the little doctor will be back to baby Wrecker again, and you can all confess your love, and live happily ever after,” Crosshair sneered, but Hunter knew him well. There was no bite in his tone, and his face was more relaxed than Hunter had seen it since you waved goodbye and disappeared into the Negotiator.

“She just commed to see if we could pick her up before our next mission, and I almost said no,” Hunter said absently, as Crosshair dropped into the co-pilot’s seat. It wasn’t true, but he could hear Crosshair’s heart racing, his teeth grinding in frustration.

“I thought you were dying to have her back,” Crosshair bit out.

“Well, Cody’s really wanting to keep her, and it would be a great opportunity for her,” This part was true, but he knew he shouldn’t tease his brother this way even though he was sure whatever doubt your absence hadn’t wiped out, would be obliterated by jealousy.

“Commander Cody has a squad of medics. He doesn’t need her,” Crosshair replied, scoffing. The thought of Cody trying to tempt you away from them with a Star Destroyer and a Jedi annoyed Crosshair down to his bones. You wouldn’t be swayed by a big ship, and fancy toys. Would you?

“You’ve got a point,” Hunter began before putting the last nail in the coffin. “He doesn’t need her…maybe he just wants her.”

He could hear Crosshair’s heart thumping wildly, as he tried to maintain his composure.

“Doubt it,” Crosshair grumbled after several moments spent working to unclench his jaw.

“Guess we’ll find out,” Hunter said, rising from the pilot’s chair. “The call’s recorded, so you can watch it, and see for yourself.”

“I’m sure she’ll never shut up about it when she’s back,” Crosshair said dismissively.

Humming softly with a shrug, Hunter said good night, and left Crosshair alone. The sharpshooter waited until he was sure Hunter was asleep before playing your conversation.

As your form appeared, bathed in blue, a smile tugged at Crosshair’s lips. Had you always been this beautiful?

“Hi, Sarge! It’s so good to see you. I’ve missed you boys like crazy,” you nearly moaned.

He’d never heard you make a sound like that. He immediately thought of you making that sound just for him, which annoyed him, but he couldn’t stop listening.

“We miss you too, cyar’ika. I’m sure you’re having fun though,” Hunter replied.

“It’s been nice to stretch my legs a bit and put some of the things I’ve learned to use. Commander Cody’s amazing…he’s uh, asked me if I want to stay on,” You look shy, nervous.

“Oh, is that uh, something you’re interested in?”

“Don’t get me wrong the Negotiator is spectacular, and I’ve enjoyed my time with the 212th,” you bite your lip, shifting your weight. You seem unsure if you should continue. After a moment, you pressed on, “but they’re missing a few things I can’t live without, so I’d like to come home, back to the Marauder I mean.”

“We’ll be glad to have you back,” Hunter replied.

“Good,” You look so relieved. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you boys since I left. Are you getting enough quiet time? Are Tech and Echo sleeping? Is Wreck staying out of trouble? Is Cross eating properly?”

Crosshair barely hears the rest of conversation because he can’t get past the part where you miss them, where you were worried about him.

“I’ll be all packed up and ready to go in two rotations. Do you mind coming to get me?” Your needy tone shakes Crosshair out of his thoughts. “I could get a shuttle, but it would take another rotation or two, and I don’t think I can wait that long.”

Crosshair realized he couldn’t either. He needed you back immediately. Sooner, really.

“Of course, doll,” Hunter says soothingly. “Two rotations, and we’ll be there.”

Reassured, your shoulders relax, “Wonderful! I can’t wait to see all of you! I’m sure Crosshair has enjoyed the break from me, but I’ve missed him so much. I miss all of you, Hunter.” Your voice is so tender, it makes his heart clench.

He had not enjoyed the break at all though. Between his brothers giving him a hard time, and wanting you back, he was miserable.

Two rotations. It wouldn’t be long now.

***

Crosshair’s leg was bouncing, as the Marauder docked with the Negotiator. You were so close, almost home.

The five of them boarded the Star Destroyer, and Crosshair’s eyes began searching for you immediately. Cody was there to greet them, grasping Hunter’s arm in welcome.

“Good to see you, Commander,” Hunter said warmly.

“Good to see you too, Sergeant,” Cody began, “I’m not going to lie, I tried to keep your medic. She’s brilliant, and the men adore her.”

“Of course they do,” Wrecker’s pride in you is evident.

“She said the Negotiator was missing a few necessities,” Cody quirked an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“She’s quite mistaken. The Havoc Marauder is not equipped with even 10% of what a Republic Venator has,” Tech says, brow furrowed.

“It doesn’t have Gonky,” Wrecker said as though it were obvious.

“It doesn’t have the five of you either!” you quipped, appearing at Cody’s elbow.

“Cyar’ika!” Wrecker bellowed, scooping you up and spinning you around.

“Wrecker!” you squealed as you returned his hug as tightly as you could

Crosshair’s heart was pounding again. He waited at the back of the group, watching his brothers welcome you back. Pressing their foreheads to yours, ghosting their fingers over your jaw, holding the back of your head gently. Then you were standing in front of him. Arms clasped behind your back, not reaching for him as you had the others. Respecting his space as always.

“I’m happy to see you too, Cross. Ready to deal with me every day again?”

“Are you ready to deal with me? All of us, again?”

“Ready and looking forward to it!” Your smile is bright and he nearly reached for you then, but he stopped himself.

“Well, Commander, you know where to find us, if you need us…or our medic again,” Hunter said with a grin.

“It was an honor serving alongside the 212th, Commander. I appreciate the opportunity,” You saluted Cody, and the others followed suit.

“The pleasure was all ours,” Cody returned the salute, and watched as the six of you returned to the Marauder.

***

You’re getting settled back into your space on the Marauder, answering questions from Wrecker, curious about the armory and ordnance, and Tech pestering you for every detail about the Negotiator, as Echo and Hunter wait to get a word in edgewise.

“Come on, boys. Give her some breathing room,” Hunter says, scooting them towards the cockpit, ignoring their protests.

“It’s good to have you back, saraad,” Echo said with a soft smile, that made your heart skip a beat.

You smile fondly at them as they go, going back to unpacking your things, and changing.

Crosshair is in his bunk, pretending he’s not watching you, but he can’t focus on anything else. Every inch of skin you reveal is making his body react. His heart thumping, breath growing shallow, as he drinks you in. This isn’t even the first time he’s seen you naked or changing, but it feels different now. He frowns as he notices a bandage on your hip peaking out of your panties, wrapping around your hip. It’s covered swiftly by the bottom half of a fresh set of blacks.

He slid out of his bunk, and you turned to face him, as you pulled the top half down covering your stomach, hiding your skin from his gaze. Naturally, you stepped back to give him space, and you were pleasantly surprised when he deliberately stepped closer. You looked up at him expectantly, eyes searching his for any hint of what he’s up to.

Crosshair was sure he should say something, but his mind was only offering sardonic quips that would convey the truth, but not like he wanted. He lifted a hand, and tapped your hip softly, fingertips resting against you. This was the first time Crosshair had ever touched you without necessity. Your heart sped up, and you swallowed hard.

“What’s this?” he asked, his voice low and even.

“Rooftop sniper,” you shook your head, folding your arms. “One of the other medics wasn’t as lucky. He was still in the med bay when you came to pick me up. No one could have clocked him to be fair.”

“I could have,” Crosshair said, anger simmering under his even tone.

“Well, there’s only one Crosshair in the galaxy. Next time I leave, I’ll take you with me.” You smiled up at him, but his face held the frown.

“Hey, I’m ok. Still good to do my job,” you added, brow furrowing.

“Fucking regs,” He swore, as he shifted his hand to hold your hip gently like you were a fragile thing. A fragile thing that belonged to him.

You hesitated before resting your hand against his chest, tapping your fingertips against the plastoid.

“Cross, I’m home, and in one piece. How can I show you?”

An eyebrow raised at that, sharp eyes taking you in, lingering on your lips, as they parted, a silent invitation for him. He leaned down, bringing his lips close to yours, begging you to close the distance. You wrapped your arms around his trim waist, as you pressed your lips to his softly.

The ache that had been simmering in his chest since you left is morphing into arousal, moving to settle down in his belly. His lips moved tentatively against yours, teeth nipping gently at your bottom lip.

“Hey,” Wrecker protested loudly. “We agreed we’d all talk to her together, Crosshair!”

The two of you break apart, and you clear your throat, your eyes trained on Crosshair.

“Talk to me about what?” You asked, breathlessly.

“Sorry, doll,” Crosshair said before Wrecker tugged him away in a headlock.

“What are you gonna talk to me about?” you asked again.

“When we get home, cyar’ika,” Wrecker said before turning to Crosshair. “Knew you were full of it, Cross!”

You touch your lips, as you watch the pair of them playfully fighting down the corridor. Did that happen? You pinched your arm as hard as you could, grimacing when it hurt, confirming you were awake, Crosshair had just kissed you. What the hell happened while you were gone? And what did they need to talk to you about?

***

In the cockpit on watch, you relaxed in the copilot’s chair, Tech snoozed gently in the pilot’s chair. It was so good to be home despite the fact that there was clearly something going on with your boys. Your alarm beeped, and you rose from the chair, yawning and stretching ready to trade out with Crosshair, and pass out for a little while.

Hunter intercepted you in the hallway with a grin. “I can’t sleep, so I’ll cover for Crosshair. Go get some rest.” He kissed your forehead, and added, “Good to have you home, Doc.”

“Good to be home, Sarge,” you replied before bidding him goodnight, and heading towards your bunk.

“Hunter?” You turn towards him.

“Hmm?” Hunter asks turning to you.

“What happened while I was gone? Why’s everyone acting weird?”

“We’ll talk when we get back to Kamino. Get some rest,” He says with a mysterious grin that makes you bite your lip.

You pout but follow his orders and head to your bunk. You’re about to climb in when you look towards Crosshair’s bunk. He was the least likely to spill the beans, but he had kissed you earlier. Was that the big secret?

You moved to stand near Crosshair’s bunk. Pushing back the privacy curtain, you whispered his name like you normally would to wake him up for his shift.

“My turn already?” he replied sleepily.

“No, Hunter’s there. I was hoping we could talk about earlier, or we could just sleep,” Even after your encounter earlier, he still made you nervous, and you worried you’d made a mistake until he lifted the blankets, and silently invited you into his bed.

You crawled in, and he lowered the blanket over your body before snaking his arm around your waist and pushing his leg between yours. His muscular thigh pressed up against you, sending a wave of heat through your body. He tucked your head beneath his chin, and it became clear he was not saying a word, so you listened to his heartbeat until you were lulled to sleep.

When you woke up a few hours later, you realized that you hadn’t slept well at all while you were gone. You needed to be crammed into the Marauder with your squad to relax. It helped that Crosshair had held you the entire time, and as you stretched and arched your back you realized he was looking at you.

“Did you sleep well?” you asked quietly not wanting to disturb the others. He simply nodded, his eyes roaming your face, as his hand rested on your waist.

“Good. We should be home soon, yeah?” you asked, rolling onto your back before sitting up.

“Something like that,” Crosshair replied cryptically.

You didn’t bother asking what he meant before sliding out of the bunk, and tossing him a smile.

“I’m going to see where we are. Go back to sleep.”

Once again he nodded, but he knew there was no chance of going back to sleep. Not when he knew what they had planned for the day.

You wandered into the cockpit, taking the co-pilot’s seat next to Echo.

“How was your first night back?” Echo asked smiling as you got comfortable in the chair.

“Cozy. I didn’t realize how much I’d miss you guys until I was gone.”

“I don’t think we did either,” he confesses.

“Oh yeah?” You asked, trying not to seem too happy about it.

He nodded, and the two of you were quiet for a moment. As always silence was never awkward with Echo, and while this was no exception, you could feel a tension in the air. It was reminiscent of the one you’d felt the night before when Crosshair had kissed you.

“I don’t suppose I can get you to tell me what’s going on?” You asked, turning the chair towards him and leaning forward.

“Always so impatient, saraad,” Echo says shaking his head.

“I can’t help it. Something’s up. Crosshair has been sweet to me,” you add in a conspiratorial whisper.

Echo huffs out a short laugh.

“Oh has he now?”

“Yeah, and,” you hesistate. You want to keep going, to spill every thought in your head to Echo, but something’s got your tongue. “It’s nothing.” You turn your chair back into place, and ask, “Where are we? How far from home?”

Reluctantly, Echo tears his gaze away from you. He looks over the navicomputer.

“Not far.”

“You wanna get some sleep? I can get us to Kamino safely.”

He raises an eyebrow at that.

“Ok, I can get us there. No promises on the condition,” you concede.

“You’re meant to be resting. Crosshair told us what happened,” Echo trails off.

“I told you he was being sweet to me, but I guess a kiss is a little more than sweet…”

“Kiss?! I meant you getting shot!” Echo hisses trying not to wake the others, as he spins towards you.

“He told you about that?!” You hiss back, spinning towards him.

“Of course he did. Why didn’t you?”

“I didn’t wanna worry you guys. Cross was not happy when he saw the bandage, and…”

“Of course he wasn’t. And I’m not happy you didn’t tell us. We could have lost you,” Echo’s eyes are worried, his brow knit together, as he reaches for your face.

His fingertips have just brushed your jaw when the cockpit opens, and the pair of you sit back and look towards the door.

“You’re supposed to be resting,” Hunter says, gesturing for you to follow him.

“I was,” you pout. “I just wanted to see if we were close to home.”

“That’s funny because it sounded like you were arguing about keeping your injury a secret,” Hunter says. Out of everyone on the ship, you never thought Crosshair would be the one to tell on you.

“No, I was just…trying to…ya know?”

“No, I don’t know, senaar’ika. Now get in your bunk and rest your eyes. I’ll wake you the moment we land.”

“Fine,” you relent, and climb into your bunk, and even your racing brain can’t keep you awake.

Matchmaking for the clones was nothing like matchmaking for the smarmy elites of Coruscant. The most noticeable difference was the way they showed their gratitude after a successful match. Daria had received expensive bottles of whiskey, opera tickets and even furs from clients. The gifts were accompanied by generic messages clearly written by their aides, and while Daria wouldn’t say no to good whiskey or a fun night at the theatre, the gifts were perfunctory in nature.

The clones, however, showed their appreciation with their hearts. Daria had received flowers clearly stolen from someone’s greenhouse that perfectly matched her lavender hair, gift cards for iced coffee, all manner of fidgets to keep her occupied, and her favorite, new photos of them with their new partners.

Commander Thorn in particular was immensely grateful for his new girlfriend, but when he’d come by bearing a gift he’d also had a request.

“I’m always happy to see you Thorn, but I’m curious as to why you have a knife in my office,” Daria said, eyeing the blade Thorn was twirling around.

“You like to keep your hands busy, right? So you can learn to spin this, and eventually how to throw it,” he replied with a mischievous grin. “Your hands will never be bored again.”

“A bold claim,” she said, following the knife’s movements. There was something alluring about such a dangerous plaything in motion, and she found her fingers twitching in anticipation. “Ok, I’ll try it.”

“That’s my girl!” He brought the knife to an abrupt stop offering it to her handle first.

Daria took the knife and began slowly moving it through her fingers. Thorn watched her work out the best way, as her hand was much smaller than his, and bare. After one minute, the knife was flipping through her fingers quickly and smoothly.

“Kriff, this is really fun,” she confessed quietly. She couldn’t play with it around other people, unless she was hoping to intimidate them, but when she was alone it would definitely be in heavy rotation amongst her other toys. “Thank you, Thorn.”

“You’re welcome, and now for the part where I beg for assistance.”

Daria stopped the knife, placing it on her desk with a decisive click.

“She does not wish to receive heart-shaped jewelry, so go back to the drawing board on that one,” Daria said after a moment of scrutiny.

“Wha-, how did you-?” Thorn stammered. Daria’s uncanny ability to snatch up threads of thought still left him speechless every time. But he was a man on a mission, and recovered quickly. “Consider the jewelry scrapped. I need to bring someone to you. He needs your help.”

Daria’s dark brown eyes lit up instantly. A smile played around her full lips, as she grabbed her datapad.

“You’ve got my attention,” she said with a raised brow.

“Excellent. It’s my ori’vod, Fox,” Thorn said, his face growing serious.

“Marshal Commander ‘Fall in line or fuck off’ Fox?” Daria asked.

Thorn nodded, “That’s the one. He practically lives in his office still, and he needs someone to get him out. Someone that makes him want to take his days off. Someone who he can’t intimidate. Who won’t take his shit.”

“You want me to find someone who’s not intimidated by the most intimidating authority figure on the planet? Possibly in the quadrant?”

“You’re Daria Trace. You found someone that made Wolffe smile. Not a ‘last thing you see before you die’ smile, but an ‘I’m so in love’ smile,” Thorn said, his bright eyes soft and hopeful.

“While everything you just said is true,” Daria conceded. “Commander Wolffe wanted my help. I feel like Commander Fox will toss me in a holding cell, if I so much as suggest he needs my assistance finding a date.”

“But he does,” Thorn insisted. “Just meet him. If he’s hopeless, he’s hopeless. If he’s not, promise me you’ll find someone for him.”

Daria adored the clones, but the way they wielded those big brown eyes was brutal. It was nearly impossible to deny them anything in one’s power.

“Bring him in,” she said finally, caving to Thorn’s masterful tooka eyes.

“Wizard! I knew you’d be up for it,” He cheered. “This means the world to me, Daria. He deserves to live his life.”

“You all do,” she assured him. “I promise I’ll do all I can. Now put on your helmet and get out of my office.”

Thorn shot her a winning smile, and left with a pep in his step. The door had barely closed behind him before Daria was researching Fox on the holonet while she twirled her new vibroblade.

***

Fox never thought he would miss the rules that led all of his vode to keep their relationships under wraps, but then Right to Love set up shop. He now had a battalion of love struck shock troopers, who couldn’t stop going on and on about their new partners, and their matchmakers.

Everywhere he went it was:

“Tarsi changed my life.”

“I owe Yen everything.”

“Daria is a miracle worker.”

Daria Fucking Trace. She was Thorn’s favorite, and he’d been bugging Fox to come and meet her ever since his first date with his now girlfriend. Every three to five business days, he’d be back at it again. Fox loved seeing his brothers happy, and thriving. Especially Thorn, even though he was testing Fox’s patience.

Fox had made the mistake of saying Thorn’s lunch looked tasty, and he’d eagerly explained his girlfriend made it for him, and Fox could have homemade lunches with love notes too, if he would just meet Daria.

“Look, Fox, I know you’re very attached to your nocturnal, work is my life persona, but we’re free men now,” Thorn said before biting into his lunch, humming with joy at the taste. “We deserve to be happy. Especially you, vod.”

“Free or not, we still have a job to do. One of us has to stay focused, so the rest can go off with pretty nat borns,” Fox countered, sipping on an iced caf.

“You should be out with pretty nat borns too. Why are you punishing yourself?”

“I’m not punishing myself. I’m just too busy for a relationship. Someone has to keep this place in order. As Marshal Commander,” Fox began.

“As Marshal Commander,” Thorn mocked with an exaggerated voice. “Just go with me to meet her. If it doesn’t work, I’ll kriff off. But if she can find you a nice young woman or man to get the stick out of your ass…”

“Will you leave me the kriff alone if I say yes?” Fox demanded.

“Yes! For a time.”

“And I won’t have to hear about Daria Trace for the next 30 rotations minimum?”

“Sure thing…but you’ll go?” Thorn looked so excited, even Fox felt himself melting a little. His soft spot for Thorn would never harden it seemed.

“Fine. Set it up.”

“YES!” Thorn cheered before taking a victorious bite of his lunch, grinning as he chewed.

***

Daria waltzed to the lobby promptly at 1259 hours, and found Blizzard obsessively straightening his desk.

“What are you doing, Blizz?” She asked with barely concealed amusement.

“The Commander Fox is coming here. I just want everything to be perfect.” He leaned closer and offered in a conspiratorial whisper, “He’s so kriffing cool. Total badass. I’m equally terrified and in awe.”

“Is that so?” Daria asked with a grin.

Blizzard nodded, and opened his mouth to say more, but at 1300 hours on the dot the door was opening to admit Commander Thorn with Commander Fox in tow.

Thorn always brought wonderful energy into any space, and Daria found his presence comforting if a bit wild.

Fox’s energy was an entirely different story. Contained, but utterly commanding with the fiercest protective intent. She couldn’t focus on anything else no matter how she tried, but the part that surprised her was the blissful feeling of being utterly secure. Safe. Relaxed.

Her constant desire to fidget was quelled. Her fingers rested in her pockets. Her weight held in place rather than shifting. Her heart was steady, calm.

Is this what other people feel like all of the time? Daria thought, offering a dazzling smile to the pair of commanders.

Thorn, never being one for ceremony, scooped Daria up into a bear hug, squishing her against his armored chest until she wheezed in protest.

“I’m happy to see you too,” she coughed out, as he placed her back on her feet.

“I forget how tiny and soft you are,” Thorn said as though he was amused.

“Scientists and therapists under 5’7” aren’t known for breeding kids of the blaster-toting, knife-gifting variety,” Daria said, lifting one expertly arched brow.

“It’s ok, Daria, we can’t all be perfect,” Thorn said, pulling his helmet off, and shaking his curls free. “This is Commander Fox. Fox, this is Daria Trace. The miracle matchmaker.”

“Is that what you’ve been telling people about me?” Daria asked, her face warming up instantly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Commander. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“I’m sure my exploits were greatly exaggerated. Especially coming from my dear little brother,” Fox said, his tone bored, and drier than Tatooine.

Oh this will be fun. Daria thought.

“Well, I’ll let you do your thing, and find Fox a wife or a husband. He’s not picky,” Thorn said with a smirk. “He can’t be with that face.”

The modulator did nothing to hide the sigh of sheer exhaustion from Fox.

“You have the same…clone humor. I should have expected nothing less from you,” Daria said with a soft laugh.

“Don’t indulge him,” Fox said tilting his head at her disapprovingly.

“Sorry. Follow me,” Daria said, with a laugh.

Fox followed the matchmaker down the hall. Everything about her said she’d never followed a rule in her life. From her mismatched earrings to the way she walked like there was music playing only she could hear. The mischievous sparkle in her eyes, the way her rich voice wrapped around the word Commander like the concept of authority amused her. It was completely unsurprising that Thorn was fond of her.

Reaching her office, Fox scanned the room quickly. A wall devoted to her successful matches no doubt, as he saw several of his brothers’ faces, including Thorn and Wolffe. There were a number of small toys scattered across Daria’s desk. Fox counted 10. Some brightly colored, some durasteel, and before she could stash it in a drawer…

“Is that a vibroblade?” he asked, folding his arms, as he took a seat at her desk.

“Gift from Thorn,” she said, closing the drawer where she kept the weapon turned fidget toy.

“Don’t cut yourself with it,” Fox said. “It’ll be a mountain of paperwork when you have to explain to a doctor how a matchmaker got stabbed with a vibroblade.”

“Don’t lose sleep over it, Commander,” Daria said, whipping the knife out of the drawer and spinning it quickly through her fingers while keeping her eyes on his visor.

“How long have you been practicing that?”

“Every free moment for 3 rotations,” she confessed.

Fox shook his head. That tracked.

“You didn’t come all the way here to discuss my knife skills. You need a date.”

“I’m only doing this to get Thorn off of my ass,” Fox said, folding his arms, and sitting back in the chair across from Daria.

“Ah so you’d like to hang out in my office, kill an hour, and then go back and pretend I’m a fake?” Daria asked, with a raised brow.

“Something like that.”

Daria laughed, and Fox noted the sound was pleasant, infectious. “Nope. My professional reputation is as sparkling as your service record, Commander.”

“Please. This is guess work at best,” He argued.

“Oh yeah? Try me.”

“How?” He asked.

“Talk to me.”

“That’s what I’m doing now.”

Daria released a sigh, and fixed him with a look. “I mean about something real like why Thorn is so invested in your love life.”

“Because he’s a nosy little brother. As an only child, you wouldn’t know about that,” He said, relaxing his arms, as he made himself comfortable. He was disappointed when his revelation was met with a satisfied little grin instead of surprise.

“I hope you found something more interesting than that in my background check,” She said, placing her elbows on the desk, and resting her chin on her crossed fingers.

“Perhaps. I’d never show all of my cards right away, Trace,” He said with a light shrug. “And neither would you.”

You wanna play hardball, let’s play. She thought.

“Ok, you think I'm a fraud; I think you’re afraid.”

The lightest shift in energy in the room told Daria she’d struck a nerve.

“What makes you think that?” He asked, keeping his voice professional and even.

“A very long list of things that I couldn’t get through with 2 full rotations devoted to you, so let’s split my lunch, Thorn’ll think we did the whole thing, and you can go back to pretending you’re happy.” Reaching into her bottom desk drawer, Daria pulled out her lunch, and set about portioning out half for Fox.

“Here,” She said, passing him half of her pasta, and half of a large pastry.

He’d been on the verge of declining and walking out, but he was absolutely starving, and it looked so delicious. Especially the pastry. His sweet tooth wouldn’t let him say no. He accepted the food, and watched as Daria got comfortable in her chair, one leg tucked beneath her, as she started eating.

There was a light hiss, as Fox unsealed and removed his helmet. He was acutely aware of the matchmaker’s gaze, as she took in his features. He could hear her mentally noting the differences between him and his brothers. The scar on his nose, his curls held back by a red headband, the dark circles under his eyes.

He shoved a forkful of pasta into his mouth, and resisted humming in pleasure. Of course it’s delicious. Perfect. He thought, annoyed.

“Good?” She asked, swallowing her current bite, and looking hopeful.

“Yeah,” He confessed. “I don’t really make time to cook.”

“I’d be more surprised if you did.”

They continued to eat in a surprisingly companionable silence until Fox bit into the pastry. Fuck, ok. He thought.

“I’m not pretending I’m happy,” he blurted out before taking another bite of the fluffy treat.

“I didn’t peg you for a liar, Commander.”

“I’m not lying,” He shot back, brow furrowed.

“You were bred for war, told you’d see the stars, and got stuck in this corrupt skughole,” Daria said, twirling noodles onto her fork. “Your life is your own now, but you insist on clinging to what you know because it’s safe, simple, comforting.”

“You don’t have a sense of duty, clearly,” Fox said with a roll of his eyes.

“No, I do. I just also believe that my life is mine, and feeling fulfilled is important. That can look different for different people,” she replied. “Do you feel fulfilled?”

He stared down at his food for a moment. “You’re irritating, did you know that?”

“I’ve heard it a few times.”

After another long moment, Fox confessed, “Maybe coming home to someone wouldn’t be terrible, but they’d have to understand the job comes first. My hours aren’t normal, and I don’t dance.”

“Now, we’re getting somewhere,” Daria said, scooping up her datapad and making some notes while she munched on half of the pastry. “Do you like animals?”

“No.”

“This is going to take forever, if you keep lying to me,” she said without missing a beat as she marked yes.

“How do you do that? It’s exhausting,” Fox snapped, shoving the last bite of pastry into his mouth.

“It’s always been like that,” Daria looked up then, and fixed him in her gaze. “You have a sweet tooth. It’s bad.”

“So find me a baker.”

“It’s not that easy.”

After another hour of getting raked over the coals by the matchmaker, Daria escorted Fox back to the lobby.

“I’ll call you,” she said with a mysterious little smile. “Bye, Thorn.”

“Bye, Daria. Thank you,” Thorn called as she made her way back down the hallway.

Fox watched her go before slipping out of the front door and taking a deep breath once it had closed behind him.

“She’s amazing, right?” Thorn asked, joining him.

Fox pulled on his helmet. “She’s as obnoxious as you without the shared DNA to make it tolerable.”

“Whatever, you love me,” Thorn said, as he donned his own helmet. “Let’s go get food. I’m starving.”

“I already ate. Go take your girlfriend to a food stand, and I’ll see you in a little while,” Fox ordered.

“Sir, yes, sir,” Thorn replied, taking off towards the train.

Alone with his thoughts, Fox wandered back towards the barracks.

Daria Fucking Trace was an absolute menace. There was no doubt about it.

***