Steam billows around us as we step out of the refresher, my muscles aching in that delicious post-sex way that makes even exhaustion feel like a victory.
"You were absolutely ravenous in there," Vae purrs, her crimson skin glistening with water droplets that catch the light like tiny rubies.
I laugh awkwardly, running a hand through my dripping hair. "Well, it's hard not to be when you've got a body like that." The words co out sounding more earnest than smooth, but Vae's pleased smile tells she doesn't mind.
We dress in comfortable silence, the dosticity of it all still strange to . Two days ago, I was Tyler Walsh, sales douche from Boston. Now I'm Rax Orlen, bounty hunter with a Sith girlfriend who can literally throw across the room with her mind when she's angry.
"Hungry?" I ask, pulling my shirt over my head.
She nods, already fully dressed and looking impossibly put-together considering what we just did in the shower. I follow her to the ship's tiny galley where we settle at the table with our ration packs.
I tear mine open and imdiately wrinkle my nose at the gray-brown substance inside. "These really suck," I mutter, poking at it with my spoon. It jiggles slightly, sowhere between pudding and at in consistency.
"They're not the best," Vae agrees, thodically consuming her own portion without complaint. "But they'll do for now."
She makes everything look easy. Even eating mystery at from a vacuum-sealed pouch. I force myself to take a bite, trying not to think about what animal it might have co from or how many years it's been shelf-stable.
I shovel another spoonful of the questionable ration into my mouth, trying not to gag. Vae has already finished hers, wiping her mouth delicately with the edge of her sleeve. Now she just... watches . Those blood-red eyes track every movent of my spoon with an intensity that makes feel a bit awkward.
"Am I taking too long?" I ask, suddenly self-conscious about my eating speed. The scrutiny is making my skin crawl.
"No," she replies simply. Nothing more.
I nod and focus on finishing my al, taking the last few bites into my mouth with renewed determination. When I finally set down my empty packet, she straightens in her seat.
"Alright, we're flying to Circumtore," she announces, her tone shifting to sothing more purposeful.
"What's Circumtore?" The na doesn't trigger any mories from Rax's background, which is becoming my litmus test for how embarrassingly ignorant I should feel about sothing.
"It's a large space station close to Nal Hutta," she explains, standing up and collecting our empty ration packs.
Nal Hutta. That na at least rings a bell for him, so Hutt-controlled planet, if I rember correctly.
"Alright," I say, offering a grin. "Sounds fun."
Vae's lips quirk into sothing that's almost a smile, but not quite. "Fun isn't the word I'd use, but it will be profitable for us." She traces a finger along the edge of the table, those crimson eyes calculating sothing I can't see. "I have a contact there that can probably help us get you to rise up through the ranks."
"Through the ranks?" I echo, leaning forward. "That sounds promising. Though why aren't we just using your na? I an, you're a Sith, right? That's got to carry more weight than so nobody bounty hunter."
Her expression darkens instantly, and I realize I've stepped on a landmine. "If I'm found alive, we'll likely get annoying bounty hunters after us sooner than I'd like."
"Oh." The single syllable hangs pathetically in the air between us. I'm still learning which questions trigger her and which don't. It's like navigating a minefield with a blindfold.
Her features soften as she reaches across the table, her warm fingers closing over mine. "Worry not, Ty-Lar," she says, voice dropping to that possessive purr that sends shivers down my spine. "Nothing can hurt you as long as I'm here to protect you."
The words should be comforting. Instead, they land sowhere between reassurance and threat, like being told you're perfectly safe inside the tiger's cage because the tiger has decided you're its favorite toy.
"That's... good to know," I manage, trying to ignore how her thumb is now tracing slow circles on my wrist.
"Besides," she continues, "it's better this way. You'll build your own reputation." There's sothing almost wistful in her voice. "People will speak your na with fear and respect."
"I'm not sure I want people to fear ," I admit, then imdiately regret it when her eyes narrow.
"Fear is useful," she says simply. "It keeps others at a distance. It keeps you safe."
I nod, not wanting to argue. Her worldview is so alien to mine, shaped by whatever brutal Sith training she endured, that sotis it feels like we're speaking different languages.
"So this contact of yours," I say, changing the subject. "Are they Sith too?"
Vae laughs, "No. Just an information broker who owes several favors." She releases my hand and stands up.
She turns on her heel and walks toward the cockpit with her confident stride, the one that assus I'll follow without question. And I do, of course. Sothing about her expectation makes it impossible not to.
"I prefer to be the pilot," she says as we enter the cramped space filled with blinking controls and viewscreens.
"By all ans," I reply, sliding into the co-pilot's chair beside her. I'm secretly relieved/
Vae's scarlet fingers dance across the control panel. The ship hums to life around us, vibrations running through the floor as the engines power up. She doesn't hesitate or double-check anything, just moves through the startup sequence like she's been flying this particular vessel her entire life.
"You're good at this," I observe, watching her work.
She doesn't respond, focused entirely on the task at hand. The ship shudders as we lift off, the jungle canopy falling away beneath us. We accelerate upward, the sky darkening from azure to indigo to the infinite black of space in a matter of seconds.
Vae banks the ship around, and suddenly, Arorua fills the viewport. A massive sphere of Green with spots of blue, wreathed in wisps of white cloud. The jungle that felt so oppressive and endless from the ground is now just a texture on this marble suspended in the void.
My breath catches in my throat. I've seen planets from space in movies, in docuntaries, but nothing could have prepared for this reality. The sheer scale of it, the beauty, the impossible perfection of a world hanging in nothingness.
Vae begins punching coordinates into the nav computer, her attention already moving to our next destination. But I can't look away from the viewport, from this impossible view that makes my chest ache with sothing I can't na.
Without thinking, I reach out and place my hand over hers, stopping her mid-calculation.
"Just hold on for a second," I say softly. "Can we just... look at this together?"
She stiffens under my touch, her eyes still fixed on the nav computer.
"Ty-lar, please do not interrupt when I'm…" she begins, annoyance edging her voice.
But then she looks up, following my gaze to the viewport, and her expression transforms completely. The irritation lts away, replaced by sothing gentle, almost concerned.
"You're crying," she says, her voice barely above a whisper.
"What?" I blink in surprise, reaching up to touch my face. My fingertips co away wet. "Oh. I guess I just found it so beautiful."
Vae studies with those intense red eyes.
"Being with ," she says slowly, "it's like you're experiencing everything for the first ti?"
The question hangs between us, loaded with anings I'm not sure either of us fully understands. It's close to the truth, in that it really is my first ti.
"Kind of," I admit, not knowing how else to respond.
Sothing shifts in her expression then, a realization or decision I can't decipher. She leans across the space between our seats, one hand coming up to cradle my cheek. Her lips find mine in a kiss that's nothing like her usual possessive claiming. This is gentle, almost reverent, her mouth moving against mine with a tenderness that makes my heart ache more than the view outside.
When she pulls away, there's a loving vulnerability in her eyes. For a mont, she's not the terrifying Sith who decapitates people for looking at wrong. She's just a woman, sharing sothing beautiful with soone she cares about.
"I've seen countless worlds from orbit," she says quietly, her thumb brushing away a tear I didn't know was still there. "But watching it with you, that's the real beauty."
I don't know what to say to that, so I just nod, turning back to the viewport. We sit in silence for several minutes, both of us gazing at the planet below. Her hand finds mine again, fingers intertwining.
"We should go," she says eventually, reluctance clear in her voice. "Circumtore awaits."
"Yeah," I agree, giving the view one last, lingering look.
"I'm ready."
The handso gentleman:
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