Pabu Au - Blog Posts

"Goggle-Eyed" || Tech x OC Marina

Author's Note: Hi friends! Coming in with the next portions of Tech and Marina's story! A tiny bit of time has past since they met with this piece. I am really enjoying their dynamic! As always this is part of @leenathegreengirl's Pabu AU, and she is responsible for the absolutely STUNNING art of them that is featured both in the cover and at the end with the full image! Seriously she did AMAZING because LOOK at how handsome he looks! That being said, I have a Tag list for the Wolffe/Perdita saga... I suppose it's only fair to open that up to Rex/Mae as well as this new... pair of friends... ~ M

Pairing: Tech & OC Marina

Word Count: 9.4k +

Rating: SFW

Warnings: Mentions of divorce; Mentions of character death; tooth rotting fluff

Summary: Tech and Marina continue to spend more time together, with their connection deepening in ways neither fully understands. As they reflect on their growing friendship, Marina begins to notice her feelings shifting, though she remains uncertain about what exactly she’s experiencing. She rationalizes her appreciation of his presence, trying to make sense of the quiet pull she feels, but doesn’t quite voice what’s on her mind. Meanwhile, Tech wrestles with his insecurities, particularly about his appearance. Will a small change be enough to force them to confront the growing tension?

Masterlist | Tech's Encrypted Files | Previous | Next (coming soon!)

Astonished. Flabbergasted. Dumbfounded. Confounded. Nonplussed. Taken aback. Stunned. Stupefied. Benumbed. 

Goggle-eyed.

Marina found herself struggling to make sense of the overwhelming surge of emotions she’d experienced that evening. What had started as a simple, straightforward task—repairing a crucial piece of equipment—had quickly spiraled into something she hadn’t anticipated. She had left with a mind full of swirling realizations, not just about her past, but also… something else. Delight?

She couldn’t be sure. Emotions, to Marina, were often erratic and transient, slipping through her fingers like water. They weren’t something she cared to dwell on. It was the facts, after all, that mattered most. And the facts were undeniable: the man who had moved into her old home, taking on the role once held by her deceased husband, was a disruption. His presence was unsettling, tearing at the fabric of the life she’d carefully constructed in his absence.

And yet… there was something about it, something she couldn’t quite put into words. He wasn’t the source of the discomfort she expected. In fact, he was becoming something far more complex in her mind. Tech, once nothing more than a mere discipline defined by wires, parts, and tools, had evolved into something far more profound. It had become tanned skin and sly smiles, accompanied by an ever-more penetrating gaze that she pretended not to notice from the corner of her eye. It was the calming baritone of his voice as he explained his work. Tech was no longer just a craft; it was a man—one who now filled her thoughts with a growing list of words, a catalog of impressions that expanded with each passing day, adding new, more positive descriptors to her mental inventory. Every interaction, every moment spent in his company, seemed to shift her perspective, pulling her deeper into uncharted territory. She wasn’t sure how to process it, but the list continued to grow.

She wasn’t one for ambiguity. Marina liked things clear, straightforward, and logical. But for the first time in as long as she could remember, clarity seemed elusive.

The clone had, perhaps unwittingly, shown her something she hadn’t expected. In his honest simplicity, he demonstrated not only a quiet respect for her former life but also a recognition of the love she had lost. He admired Keiron’s work, and more importantly, he kept the memory of her husband alive in ways that others never had. When she asked, he shared details about their shared craft, holding Keiron’s contributions in high regard, never diminishing their significance. It was a gesture that, while small, felt monumental. The rare few who had known Keiron never seemed able—or willing—to honor his memory in such a way. It was often clouded by pity, as though his legacy was something to be mourned rather than celebrated.

Tech, on the other hand, was a blank slate. He didn’t carry the baggage of shared grief or whispered condolences, and his only connection to Keiron had been through their mutual love of building things. It wasn’t weighed down by history, yet it still felt significant. He had no reason to keep that connection, and yet he did, treating her husband’s work with the same respect and enthusiasm he had for his own.

For a time, the idea of returning to a life of normalcy had seemed impossible, even after so many years on her own. The weight of grief had never fully lifted, and the pity in the eyes of others had only added to her sense of isolation. But Tech—this unexpected presence—had slowly begun to change that. With him, she could let go of the heavy mantle of widowhood, if only for a moment. It wasn’t that she had forgotten Keiron or erased his importance from her life. But for the first time in a long while, she wasn’t “Marina, the widow of our beloved Keiron.” She was simply Marina again—a woman with her own space to breathe, to exist without the weight of others’ sorrow pulling her down. The chance to return to herself, free from the constant reminder of her loss, felt like a rare gift—one she didn’t know she needed until it was there, right in front of her.

But there was something deeper than mere respect—something more unexpected. Marina had found, to her surprise, that Tech's presence was actually comforting. There was an unspoken understanding between them, a quiet alignment that resonated in a way she hadn’t encountered before. Tech was, in many ways, a mirror of herself—blunt, unapologetically straightforward, and entirely unafraid to speak his mind. Traits she had often been shamed for, but in him, they felt different.

He was intelligent, his mind sharp and precise, and the way he articulated his thoughts often mirrored her own. His tone—the same one she’d been accused of using, the one others had called condescending—didn’t carry the same negative weight when it came from him. Marina couldn’t help but recognize the eerie similarity, the way his words seemed to echo her own mannerisms, yet there was a subtle difference. Where others had seen her intellectual tone as an attack, as an unwanted display of authority, they never seemed to perceive it that way with Tech. His words were never laden with judgment or condemnation; they were simply the expressions of someone who understood the weight of knowledge.

In a strange way, Tech seemed to be the first person who truly understood her—someone who didn’t distort her intentions through the lens of preconceived biases. When she spoke with him, it wasn’t about putting others down or assuming superiority. It was about sharing knowledge and exchanging ideas. But for some reason, that same approach, when applied by her, had often been misread by others as arrogant or dismissive. Yet with Tech, her words felt accepted, as though he saw them for what they truly were—a genuine attempt to communicate, not to dominate.

The more she spent time with him, the more Marina realized that this wasn’t just about being understood. It was about being seen, truly seen for who she was—without judgment, without the weight of other people’s assumptions. In a way she hadn’t expected, Tech had become a safe space, a place where she could simply exist without needing to defend herself or constantly explain her intentions. It was a kind of relief she hadn’t known she was missing.

A recent revelation struck her with a quiet force: Tech possessed a simple, unassuming kindness that she hadn’t fully appreciated until now. It wasn’t loud or grand, not the kind of charity that demanded recognition, but it was genuine nonetheless. He asked about her work, about the things that others so often dismissed or scoffed at, showing a sincere interest that surprised her. Where most people, even those who were close to her, had no real curiosity or care for her craft, Tech seemed to value it, not out of obligation, but because he truly wanted to know.

And then there was his way of caring for his siblings. The ease with which he maintained things for them, often without a second thought for his own needs, was a constant reminder of the quiet depth of his generosity. He never made a show of it, never boasted about the ways he helped, and yet it was clear that, in his world, their well-being always came first. Take Crosshair, for example. The mechanical reel, essential as it was, was clearly more important to Tech than his own need for food or rest. Marina couldn’t help but admire that quiet sacrifice, the way his actions always seemed to put others before himself, even when no one was watching.

Tech’s kindness wasn’t extravagant. It didn’t demand attention or praise. It came in the form of little things—small acts of care, of thoughtfulness, that didn’t announce themselves but instead simply were. It was the sort of kindness that never seemed to wane, but rather ebbed and flowed like the tide—gentle, persistent, and always present.

In a world where so many people made kindness conditional or used it as a tool for gain, Tech’s quiet sincerity stood in stark contrast. He didn’t need to be noticed for it, and didn't require any kind of acknowledgment. It was just who he was. And for Marina, that was something rare—something that, over time, she found herself appreciating more than she could put into words.

Marina made a conscious effort not to dwell on Keiron. After all, it had been years since his passing, and the ache of loss, while never truly gone, had softened over time. She had learned to move forward, to carve out a life that was her own, one that didn’t constantly call upon the memory of the past. It wasn’t that she had forgotten him; how could she? Keiron had been her world, and that part of her would never fade. But she’d done what she could to keep the memories from overtaking her present, from weaving themselves into every quiet moment, every new day.

But Tech, in his own subtle way, was beginning to infiltrate the routine she had built. At first, it was a simple presence—his quiet way of asking about her work, his casual remarks about his siblings and their needs, the small acts of thoughtfulness that added a quiet rhythm to her days. Yet, with each passing interaction, she couldn’t help but notice how his movements, his habits, seemed to echo the ones Keiron had once had. The way Tech lingered in the workshop, inspecting tools and gadgets with the same meticulous care, reminded her of the evenings when Keiron would do the same, lost in the hum of his work, with nothing but his craft to accompany him.

It was subtle at first—a flicker of familiarity that she quickly pushed aside, telling herself it was just a coincidence. After all, Tech was his own person. But then there were moments when she’d see him pause in the same way Keiron had, when he’d focus intently on some small mechanical detail, his brow furrowing in concentration, and for a fleeting instant, she could almost see her husband in him. It wasn’t that he looked like Keiron or mimicked him outright; no, Tech was very much his own individual. But the way he became absorbed in his work, the focus he put into solving problems, the way he treated others with that same unassuming kindness—it all felt like an odd, comforting reflection of what had once been.

Marina tried not to let it bother her, tried not to allow the comparison to take root. It was unfair to Tech, she knew that. He was not Keiron, and he would never be. And yet, there were moments when the lines between the two blurred—when the way Tech moved through her world with such ease, felt eerily familiar. In those moments, it was hard not to think of Keiron, not to remember the long nights spent side by side in the workshop, their conversations flowing as easily as the work they did.

But then she would pull herself back, reminding herself that Tech, despite the similarities, was different in ways that were undeniable. He was blunt, for one, where Keiron had always been more tactful. His sense of humor, dry and sometimes absent altogether, stood in stark contrast to the way Keiron had always laughed, the kind of laughter that had filled their home with warmth. There was a quiet strength in Tech that was different—more like a steady current, unwavering and calm, where Keiron’s had been a fire, always burning brightly, fiercely, and at times, unpredictably.

But in his own quiet way, Tech carried with him a form of baggage not so dissimilar from her own. His recent divorce, the painful rift caused by his decision to initiate the split, was a burden he bore silently, but it was one that mirrored her own experience in unexpected ways. Just as her widowhood had left her isolated, adrift in a world that sometimes felt too full of memories and too empty of connection, Tech found himself similarly alienated—an unwilling outcast in the wake of his decision.

Marina never asked about his past. It wasn’t her place to pry into the details of his life, just as he had never questioned her about Keiron. Their relationship was defined by a quiet understanding of boundaries—unsaid but deeply respected. She understood the delicate nature of loss and didn’t wish to push him into a space where he might feel exposed, just as she had once been when her grief was raw and fresh.

And yet, despite the unspoken agreement to avoid personal histories, there was something about the stillness of their shared time together that had a way of unraveling the walls they both built around themselves. In the moments when they worked side by side, when the quiet hum of their respective tasks filled the air, truth began to slip into their conversations—not in bold declarations, but in small, almost imperceptible ways. The weight of his past, his marriage, the pain of his decision, started to emerge in his words, in the pauses between sentences, in the way he sometimes stared off into the distance as though processing something just beneath the surface.

Tech didn’t speak of it directly at first, but in the gentle cadence of their conversations, in the soft exchanges that had nothing to do with the tasks at hand, it began to seep out. His words, casual as they were, began to reveal glimpses of his heartache. His explanations, more fragments than stories, hinted at the cracks in his marriage, the moments of miscommunication and misunderstanding that had led to its inevitable collapse. Marina didn’t ask for details. She didn’t need to. The hurt in his voice, the careful way he chose his words, was enough to convey what he couldn’t bring himself to say outright.

It wasn’t a dramatic revelation. It wasn’t an emotional outpouring. It was something quieter—something that formed slowly, like a river carving its way through stone. And in that same way, Marina realized that she, too, was revealing her own truths to him, without even meaning to. The stillness between them—the comfortable silence of two people working side by side—had become a space where vulnerability wasn’t forced, but simply allowed to exist.

A mutual understanding began to take root between them, born of the quiet respect they both held for their former partners. It was something unspoken but deeply understood. Tech did not harbor any resentment toward Leena, despite the painful way their relationship had ended. Even in the raw aftermath of their split, he still cared for her. The hurt was fresh, yes, but his words spoke of her with a tenderness that surprised Marina. He shared stories of their good times, those small, treasured memories that seemed to hold a quiet beauty—stories of a love that, though now distant, had once been full of life. The way he spoke of Leena reminded Marina of how one might describe an old friend with whom they’d simply grown apart, rather than someone with whom they’d endured the unraveling of a relationship. It was a love, locked in another time, but still genuine. And it was a love that, in its own way, helped Marina see that not all relationships, even those that end, are tainted by bitterness.

Similarly, Marina began to notice something else about Tech—how he seemed to pull out memories of Keiron that she had long buried. When she’d thought of her late husband in the years following his death, it was usually through a haze of grief and anger, a bitter ache over the empty space his departure had left in her life. She had always associated those memories with sorrow, and each reflection felt like another wound reopened. But when she shared those memories with Tech, they didn’t feel like that. Instead, they felt warm. They felt like a blessing, like a small light in the darkness, reminding her of the richness of her past without the sting of loss. There was no sorrow in those moments as she spoke of Keiron with him. Only a deep sense of gratitude, a quiet recognition that the love she’d once known had been profound, and that in itself, was something precious.

In a way, it was Tech who helped her see it. His presence, his quiet understanding, and his ability to listen without judgment, without expectation, created an environment where she could finally allow herself to reflect on Keiron without the flood of grief she had once feared. It was as if Tech had shown her that she wasn’t trapped in her sorrow anymore. She had moved through it, she had healed. And now, she could look back on that love with a sense of peace, rather than the sharp ache that once dominated her thoughts.

He had, unknowingly, helped her rediscover the depth of her own gratitude for having loved so deeply. And in that respect, it felt as though Tech had become more than just a companion in the present—he had helped her reclaim a piece of her past, transforming it from something painful into something she could cherish once more. And, in turn, how lucky she was to have someone like Tech, who could bring her back to those memories with such kindness and respect. It was a gift she hadn’t realized she needed until it was given.

In the relatively short time Marina had known Tech, his friendship had grown into something she deeply valued. What had started as a simple request to repair her boat’s engine quickly morphed into something far more significant. That first night had been spent not only fixing machinery but also learning from one another, sharing conversation, and filling a quiet space that both of them had been missing. Their time together was easy and unforced, a kind of companionship that made her realize how much she had been longing for this connection, even if she hadn’t known it.

Tech’s offer to help install the engine himself was a turning point, leading to more shared moments and an even deeper sense of connection. What had started as a technical task turned into an intimate tour of the boat, a look at her life, her home, her world. The boat was not just her mode of transport; it was where she lived, where she worked, and where she had spent years learning to be self-sufficient. Allowing someone else into that space was no small thing, but with Tech, there was an unexpected ease to it, as though his presence was just another part of the boat, fitting seamlessly into the corners where her daily life had unfolded.

Before long, Tech’s small acts of assistance became regular. He began making subtle modifications to the boat—small tweaks that helped her maintain her home and work environment more efficiently. It was clear to Marina that these weren’t obligations to him. He wasn’t doing it because it was expected or because she had asked; he was doing it because it was something he genuinely enjoyed. He told her it challenged him in ways that were satisfying, and she could see that. His mind worked through problems in a way that not only resolved issues but improved her daily life. His help became a reminder that he was invested in more than just fixing things; he was invested in her, in the life she had built.

But it didn’t stop at repairs. As the days turned into weeks, Tech’s interest in her work began to grow. Initially, it was just curiosity, but soon it became something more. He began gathering her reports, asking her to explain details, even reading them for fun. Marina was surprised, but there was something disarming about the way he engaged with her knowledge. He never made her feel like she was being overly academic or condescending, as she often feared. Instead, his questions were genuine, his desire to understand her work a quiet reflection of how much he respected what she did. Their evenings became filled with casual discussions about her research, each conversation a small exploration that allowed Marina to rediscover her own passion for her field.

Tech’s presence was never overwhelming. He didn’t force himself into her routine; rather, he became a comfortable part of it. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, she found herself expecting to hear from him, to see him at least once during the day. There was something about his company that had become essential, a natural part of the flow of her life. She didn’t need to make space for him; he had simply slipped into the gaps that had once felt empty. His presence didn’t disrupt her, it complemented her. It was as though they had both found a quiet understanding, a rhythm that had been missing for so long.

With their growing connection came an unexpected candor, one that revealed fears, doubts, and the self-conscious shames she usually kept hidden from everyone else. In many ways, speaking with Tech felt like speaking to herself. But he had a kindness and gentleness toward her that she was often unable to show herself. When she opened up about her fear that everyone she grew close to inevitably met a tragic end, Tech tried to calm her, offering perspective. He explained that while she had undoubtedly been a victim of a string of unfortunate events, it was illogical to label herself as 'cursed,' as she often did. His words were soothing, a quiet reassurance that allowed her to momentarily let go of the weight of that belief.

In turn, she found herself trying to reassure him as well. She listened with genuine care to his deeper worries, those heavy concerns about his life and the choices he had made, but also to his more trivial musings. Whether it was a fleeting thought or a lingering fear, Marina offered him the same patience and understanding that he had given her. In these exchanges, a balance began to form between them—a silent promise that they could share their vulnerabilities without judgment. Each conversation, no matter how small, brought them closer, and in that closeness, they both began to find a space where their worries could be shared, acknowledged, and softened by the other’s presence.

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

“I fail to understand how someone as methodical as you maintains such a non-functional hairstyle,” Marina observed, wringing saltwater from her hair as they emerged from the dive. The afternoon had been spent gathering specimens for her ongoing research, and Tech’s growing interest in her work had prompted his participation. Despite not being a natural diver, his analytical approach had proven advantageous.

Tech became aware of Marina’s gaze from the periphery of his vision. Her face remained mostly neutral, with the smallest hint of a smirk. It was the sort of expression that forced him to evaluate every aspect of his appearance—particularly his hair, or rather, the lack of it.

He’d first noticed the thinning during his cadet days. It wasn’t extreme, but it was there nonetheless. He suspected it was linked to his genetic modifications—Jango’s genome often predisposed men to hair loss, and he was no exception. The reality, however, was more uncomfortable: many women found it undesirable.

Tech raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. "It’s an effective solution," he stated, his tone flat, but tinged with a subtle defensiveness. "It keeps most of my hair out of my field of vision."

Marina gave a quiet exhale, analyzing his mohawk with cold precision. The sides had regrown enough to form a near-blend with the longer middle section, and her gaze lingered. "Effective? I wouldn’t categorize that as such," she said, her voice devoid of humor but carrying a hint of clinical detachment. "It certainly attracts attention. Practicality, however, remains debatable."

Tech registered the warmth behind Marina’s words, but there was an analytical quality in her tone that made it difficult to simply dismiss her observation. He adjusted his position, momentarily avoiding her gaze as he unstrapped his gear. The discomfort had become evident—his skin was flushed from the sun, and the absence of sunscreen was now a tangible reminder of his oversight.

"Well," he began after a pause, his voice lowering just slightly, "it wasn’t always my decision." He drummed his fingers against his leg, each tap methodical, an attempt to redirect his focus. "Leena insisted I maintain it after we removed the inhibitor chips. She said it concealed my receding hairline." There was a rare nuance of vulnerability in his tone, a crack in the otherwise rigid exterior. Her comments had started as casual compliments but eventually revealed the true intent: she preferred the hairstyle as a way to mask his imperfections.

Marina’s gaze shifted slightly, her expression wavering as she processed his words. She hadn’t expected this level of introspection from him—the unease, the vulnerability beneath the surface. It wasn’t her place to pry, yet the weight of the exchange was undeniable.

Her tone softened, her words still concise but imbued with an empathy that was almost clinical in its precision. "I don’t typically address Leena’s influence, as it doesn’t concern me. But," she paused, choosing her words carefully, "I apologize if her preferences made you feel obligated to hide something that wasn’t inherently a flaw. I cannot fully comprehend the pressure you may have felt, but you need not carry that burden—especially for something as insignificant as hair."

Tech’s gaze flickered away, the discomfort still evident. But Marina wasn’t about to let him linger in that space. She stepped closer, her posture both firm and non-threatening, like a guide offering a new perspective.

“You don’t need to hold on to someone else’s perception of what you should look like,” Marina said, her voice softer than usual but still clear and direct. “You have the autonomy to choose what aligns with your sense of self. You’re practical, intelligent, and distinct in your own right. Your appearance should be an expression of that—not a reflection of someone else’s standards.”

Tech shifted slightly, his discomfort becoming more apparent, as his eyes flicked away. The vulnerability beneath his usual composure surfaced more clearly. “I don’t want to appear…” he paused, as if searching for the right term, “unattractive. I mean, my understanding of attractiveness was shaped by her preferences. And... well, women generally don’t find receding hairlines appealing. It’s a physical indicator of decreased testosterone, which impacts the body’s evolutionary drive for mating,” he explained, his words mechanical, attempting to hold onto his analytical approach even as his insecurities leaked through.

Marina observed him quietly, her expression shifting to one of understanding. She gave a faint, reassuring smile—subtle but genuine. “Tech, you’re not unattractive. You have qualities that go far beyond your appearance. There are attributes people, particularly women, prioritize that are unrelated to biology. And your hairline doesn’t define your value or identity. You shouldn’t let someone else’s preferences shape how you perceive yourself.”

Tech raised an eyebrow, his skepticism still evident. “You think changing it would help?” His tone was guarded, an edge of doubt threading through his voice.

Marina’s response was calm, with no hesitation. “I believe it may prove beneficial in assisting you with moving past someone else’s expectations. You deserve to see yourself the way that aligns with who you are, not the way someone else saw you. You need to feel comfortable and confident with who you are, not hold on to something that possibly never fit you to begin with.”

Tech seemed to consider this, his gaze drifting between Marina and the water as he processed her words. For the first time, the defensiveness in his posture eased just a little, and a flicker of realization crossed his face. Maybe, just maybe, it was time to let go of the weight he’d been carrying without even realizing it.

“I guess… it wouldn’t hurt to try something different,” he murmured, a hint of openness in his voice that hadn’t been there before.

Marina offered him a small but approving nod. “Exactly. And if you don’t like it, you can always change it back. But at least you’ll know it’s your choice, not someone else’s.”

Tech’s gaze softened as he met her eyes, something shifting in his expression—vulnerability mixed with gratitude. “Thanks, Marina,” he said quietly, his voice almost shy, but the sincerity behind it clear.

Marina gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze, a simple gesture that felt more comforting than words could express. “Anytime, Tech. And for what it’s worth, I’ve got no issue with a more mature hairline.”

Tech gave a small, relieved smile, the burden of his self-doubt easing just a little. “Good to know.”

The atmosphere between them changed, the unspoken tension that had weighed down on Tech’s shoulders beginning to dissipate as he processed her words. He stood still for a moment, reflecting on the conversation—on her reassurance, the bluntness that still managed to be caring, and the understanding woven between her observations. It was a lot to digest. But something within him shifted. Perhaps it was time to stop trying to conform to an external image, to someone else’s idea of who he should be. Maybe it was time to embrace a version of himself that felt authentic.

As if sensing his internal change, Marina gave him a brief, encouraging glance before turning toward the boat. “Come on, let’s get something to eat,” she said, her voice light and casual. “Diving is very strenuous and we should maintain a period of relaxation before continuing”.

Tech nodded, grateful for the shift in focus to something as simple as food. It was a welcome distraction, but as he fell in step beside Marina, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed between them. The awkwardness from earlier was still there, hovering at the edges, but now there was something else—something deeper. For the first time in a while, he wasn’t drowning in self-doubt. Her words had struck something in him, grounding him in a way he hadn’t expected.

They made their way inside the boat, the quiet, rhythmic sound of the water slapping against the hull creating a steady background to his thoughts. As they moved toward the galley, Tech found his mind drifting back to what Marina had said. “Not unattractive.” She’d said it without hesitation, so bluntly, so matter-of-fact.

The words replayed in his mind. That simple affirmation had hit harder than he expected. It wasn’t some vague attempt to placate him with empty niceties. She hadn’t sugarcoated her assessment—just laid it out, clear and direct. And in her bluntness, there had been something real. Something genuine.

But beyond that, there was the other part—the part he hadn’t anticipated. She’d noticed. She’d acknowledged his appearance, and in doing so, she’d confirmed something he’d long suspected: that, at least in her eyes, he wasn’t unattractive. The realization made something stir inside him, a warm flicker in his chest that he wasn’t sure how to interpret.

Was that… attraction? He’d always valued Marina’s straightforwardness, her no-nonsense approach to things. But now, he found himself wondering if he was reading too much into it. If it was possible that she might see him in a different light than just a colleague, just a friend.

His hand instinctively went to his damp hair again, and this time, the usual discomfort was absent. The urge to hide it remained, but it wasn’t as strong, and for the first time, he could almost picture letting go of that trivial burden.

But then, there was the question of what this might mean for their friendship. Was it moving too fast? Had he misinterpreted the simplicity of her words? Tech felt a strange knot in his stomach, a mix of uncertainty and curiosity, and for the first time, he realized just how much he hadn’t considered about their dynamic.

He didn’t know if Marina was thinking about any of this. But he couldn’t help wondering if, perhaps, things weren’t so straightforward anymore. If there was more to this connection than he’d allowed himself to believe.

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

The soft thump of footsteps on the ramp caught Marina’s attention, though she didn’t immediately look up from her microscope. She didn’t need to; the rhythm of the steps, the deliberate pace, and the faint echo of familiarity told her it was Tech. He had made a promise the night before, one that was likely the reason she hadn’t bothered to glance up when the door opened.

“I have returned with the temperature regulator I mentioned—” Tech’s voice filtered into the small lab space, calm and steady, as always. Marina continued to peer through the lens of her microscope, her eyes focused entirely on the cellular structure of the mollusk she had been studying. The intricacies of the tiny organism’s internal architecture held her full attention.

“Thank you, I’ll be able to assist in a moment,” she replied, her voice thoughtful, almost detached as she jotted down her observations on a nearby notepad. "I just need to write down my findings before they slip away."

Tech paused for a brief moment, as if considering whether or not to interrupt. It was a habit she and he both shared—becoming so absorbed in their respective work that they overlooked the small courtesies, the greetings that others might find customary. It wasn’t that they didn’t appreciate those pleasantries; they simply had a way of diving headfirst into what mattered most at the time. It was something Tech had come to find oddly endearing about Marina, the way she was so fully immersed in her work, so consumed by the pursuit of knowledge that nothing else seemed to matter at that moment.

Marina’s pencil moved swiftly, her shorthand almost a second language as she recorded the detailed observations of the mollusk’s cellular layers. She was so deep in thought that she didn’t realize she was subconsciously pulling herself further away from the task of acknowledging Tech, the quiet rustle of his movements almost blending into the background hum of her work. It was only when a slight shift in the air, the soft rustle of a bag being set down, and the subtle weight of his presence drawing nearer to her that she finally realized how much time had passed. She hadn’t heard him approach.

“Did you need help getting everything set up?” she asked, her voice smooth and casual as she finally lifted her gaze from the microscope, her pencil pausing mid-air. Her expression was focused but not unkind, as if her mind was still slightly tethered to her notes.

It was then that she looked up and froze. Tech was standing there, the same steady presence as always—only this time, something had changed. His mohawk was gone.

In its place was a much shorter, tidier cut that framed his face in a way that made him seem... well, different. She hadn’t expected him to act on her suggestion, let alone so quickly. For a brief moment, she was taken aback, unsure of what to say. She’d advised him to prioritize his own preferences over someone else’s vision, but to see him take that advice so suddenly… It was surprising, in the best way.

Marina blinked, a flicker of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she absorbed the sight of him. She hadn’t thought much about how she’d phrased her suggestion, but seeing him here, looking more comfortable in his own skin, it was clear he had done just that—he’d listened. And she hadn’t expected how good it would look on him.

Her surprise lingered for only a moment before she found her voice, though it held a softer edge than usual. “Well, I see you’ve taken my advice.” The words were playful, but there was an underlying warmth in her tone, an unexpected admiration for the change.

Tech, sensing her reaction, offered a small, sheepish smile. “I thought I’d give it a try. It feels different. I do not recall having maintained a style similar since we were cadets, but, I admit you were right. It’s practical, and there appears to have been positive benefits in not disguising something I cannot control any longer.”

Marina studied him for a moment longer, her gaze softening as she took in the change. His hair, now cut into a short, neat style, which reminded her of a crew cut—undeniably better she realized. The style wasn’t just a change in appearance; it was a reflection of something deeper—a willingness to prioritize his own needs over the pressures of someone else’s expectations. Possibly even face his insecurity head on. The result was quite attractive.

For a brief second, Marina froze, unsure how to express what she was thinking. It wasn’t like her to shy away from speaking her mind, but seeing him standing there, looking different—softer somehow—was surprisingly stirring. She hadn’t anticipated how aesthetically pleasing he would look with a change as simple as this.

Her gaze shifted, and she stepped closer to him, almost instinctively. The movement felt natural, unforced. She hadn’t expected to be moved by something as minor as a new haircut, but there was something about this moment, something about Tech’s quiet vulnerability that made her want to respond differently than she usually would.

Without much thought, she reached out—just a touch. She didn’t think about the action, but simply brushed the side of his hair with her fingers. The texture had a certain softness to it that she hadn’t anticipated. His hair, no longer styled in an exaggerated manner, now rested in a way that emphasized his features more naturally.

Tech froze, his body going rigid at the unexpected touch. He wasn’t used to just anyone being so close to him, certainly not in the intimate, casual way that Marina was. The contact was gentle, but it caused an immediate stir in him—an unfamiliar warmth that traveled through his skin, his breath hitching for the briefest of moments. His initial impulse was to pull away, to retreat into the safety of his personal space, but something in Marina’s calm demeanor kept him rooted to the spot.

The sensation of her fingers brushing against his hair was foreign, something he hadn’t experienced in a long time, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, it made something in him awaken—something he couldn’t quite place, a feeling that was both pleasant and disorienting. Tech had always kept people at arm’s length, both physically and emotionally, so the fact that he didn’t recoil, didn’t pull away from her, left him slightly confused.

Marina, sensing his unease but unwilling to let him retreat into his shell, spoke with a softness that was rare for her. “You look really good, Tech,” she said, her voice quiet, but carrying an undeniable sincerity. There was no teasing edge, no sharp words—just simple, unadulterated truth. “It’s a good change. You look more comfortable. Dare I say… confident?” She asked with a slight chuckle.

Her words hung in the air, and for a moment, Tech felt a strange mix of emotions. The quiet praise, the unexpected touch—it was almost as if she had reached beneath his surface, past the walls he had so carefully constructed. And to his surprise, there was no discomfort. In fact, there was a small sense of... pleasure? It was a strange thought, something he hadn’t allowed himself to acknowledge before, but Marina’s calm approval felt different. It wasn’t based on superficial standards or expectations; it was simply about him being who he was, in that moment, and he couldn’t deny that it felt good.

Tech’s response was quiet, his voice tinged with uncertainty but also a hint of something else he couldn’t quite place. “I... Thank you.” He shifted slightly, the flush on his cheeks more noticeable now, though he tried to maintain his usual stoic demeanor. It wasn’t easy, feeling this exposed—this open—but Marina had a way of making him feel seen in a way that was both unnerving and, dare he admit, kind of comforting.

If Marina had thought Tech was handsome before, witnessing the bright, beaming smile that spread across his face when she confirmed he looked good, only intensified that feeling. She couldn't remember ever seeing him smile so widely, but it was clear her compliment had struck a deep chord with him. Marina gave a small, approving nod, her gaze still gentle. “Anytime, Tech,” she said, her tone steady again, but with an underlying warmth. Then, she stepped back, giving him space once more.

Tech stood there, processing the moment, his hand instinctively reaching up to touch his newly cut hair. It was still a strange feeling, and yet, it was starting to feel more like a choice he could own, not something that was forced upon him. And that, more than anything, made it worthwhile.

He had truly taken her suggestion without a second thought, cutting his hair the night before he could talk himself out of it. He wasn’t entirely sure why he did it. He valued her opinion, but letting it push him to make a change felt like a bigger step than he was used to. Still, before his usual, logical mindset could take over, he grabbed the trimmer and tackled the overgrown patch down the middle, barely sparing a glance at his reflection.

The thick curls at the top of his head, once unruly and standing in stark contrast to the shorter, slightly grown-out sides, fell away in uneven clumps. He started at the front, shearing through the bulk with each deliberate pass, the vibration of the trimmer against his scalp grounding him more than he expected. His fingers brushed over the newly uniform length, the contrast between his freshly buzzed crown and the textured remains of his previous style disappearing with each careful adjustment.

Yes, his hairline was more visible now, his features a little sharper without the towering mop of curls softening them. But there was something undeniably satisfying about the low-maintenance cut, and the way it felt weightless, clean—almost like a reset. For that sense of ease alone, he figured he could handle whatever attention it drew to his hairline.

But as Marina continued to smile at him, her expression soft with almost childlike wonder at the change, something in him shifted again. For the first time in a long while, he didn’t feel the need to hide behind his usual barriers. There was a quiet understanding in the space between them, a softening of the edges, a subtle recalibration in the way they interacted. It wasn’t anything he had expected, but somehow, it felt like the right kind of change.

Marina’s words had sparked something in him—encouraged him to move past his discomfort and consider what he hadn’t realized he was missing. And despite his initial resistance, he found himself feeling surprisingly grateful for it.

As he processed the change, his voice came out slower this time, like he was still digesting it. “I didn’t think much of it at first,” he said, quieter than usual. “But I think you were right. I missed having it like this—the way I used to wear it during the war. I kept it slicked back from my face. It was practical, kept everything out of my way. It helped me focus, gave me a sense of control. And... I realized I missed that.”

Marina’s gaze softened, and for a moment, there was something almost tender in the way she looked at him. “That makes sense,” she said, her voice measured but warmer than usual. “I think this looks better on you. Not just practical, but…” She trailed off for a moment, considering the words. “There’s something about it. It highlights your features more, makes you look... more open? And, if I’m being honest, a little more attractive.”

Tech blinked, a brief flash of surprise crossing his face. He hadn’t expected her to be so direct. But Marina didn’t seem uncomfortable, just matter-of-fact, like she was acknowledging a simple truth. “I think it suits you,” she continued, her voice steady, but with a faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “It's sharp. And... well, I can’t deny, it’s a good look on you.”

Tech swallowed, the words sinking in. It wasn’t just a reassurance or a vague compliment. She had really said it—he was attractive this way. The acknowledgment made something shift inside him, but it didn’t feel uncomfortable. Instead, it was grounding, as if the external changes were finally matching something inside him.

Tech couldn’t help but feel a slight flush at her words, a quiet warmth spreading through him. He’d been so wrapped up in how others had seen him for so long, particularly Leena’s influence on his appearance, that he hadn’t realized how much he’d lost sight of what he wanted. But Marina’s suggestion had unlocked something—a way to transition back to a style that had felt like him, but in a way that was his choice now. Even more than that, he found her alignment with his own preference to be refreshing. 

“It’s an adjustment,” he admitted, his tone soft but steady. “But I think I’m starting to realize it’s not about changing who I am. It’s about reclaiming a piece of myself that was lost. It felt nice to just prioritize what I want and not worry about the outcome,”

Marina stepped a little closer, her eyes studying him with a thoughtful expression. “Well, I look forward to meeting this older, reclaimed version of Tech. I have no doubt this will continue to suit you if you let it grow or if you keep it this way,” she confirmed. Something about the way she seemed appreciative of his past, but also allowing him to grow was pleasant. More so than he cared to admit.

Tech studied her for a moment, a thoughtful expression crossing his features before he spoke. "We can’t all be blessed with something so distinct, to set us apart visually," Tech said, his words genuine. His gaze lingered on the silver strand of hair that framed Marina’s face, the one that stood out against the deep dark waves of her hair. He had noticed it the first time they met, the white streak seeming to capture the light in a way that made her presence feel even more ethereal. To him, it had become one of the things that defined her, an unmistakable part of her appearance that somehow reflected the complexity he saw in her.

“Are you referring to my eyes or my hair?” Marina asked, raising an eyebrow with a teasing yet intrigued look in her eyes.

Tech shifted slightly, his expression softening, his usual composure momentarily slipping. “Both,” he said, his voice steady but tinged with a quiet warmth. “Your features are... unique. I remember thinking the same thing the night we met. I can’t recall ever encountering someone with both mallen strands in their hair and heterochromia in their eyes. It’s... visually fascinating.”

A faint flush crept up his neck, coloring his cheeks as he realized how direct his words had been. He wasn’t one to get flustered easily, but there was something about Marina that made him lose his usual precision and guarded nature. The way her eyes held so much mystery and how the streak in her hair caught the light —it was a combination that was striking, yet so incredibly effortless as it was natural. 

Marina, for her part, blinked at the compliment, caught slightly off guard by his openness. Her initial instinct was to deflect, as she always did when attention was placed on something she considered unusual about herself. But there was something in the way Tech had said it—without judgment, without awkwardness—that made her pause.

Marina blinked again, her eyes narrowing just slightly as she processed his words. "Visually fascinating?" she echoed, her voice a little less playful now, a tinge of uncertainty creeping in. She shifted her weight, her gaze dropping briefly to her hands, almost as if she was weighing his compliment against the feeling in her chest.

Her self-consciousness stirred at the mention of her imperfections, something she’d always struggled with. People didn’t typically find these things “fascinating”—they found them odd, something to be fixed or covered up. Her mind immediately flickered back to all the times she’d tried to hide the streak of white in her hair, the way it made her feel out of place, like it was a constant reminder of something that didn’t fit with her age range. 

"Are you sure you're not just... being kind?" she asked, her voice quiet but laced with an underlying skepticism, as she tried to gauge his sincerity. "I mean, people usually don’t go out of their way to find imperfections attractive." Her eyes briefly flickered up to meet his, unsure whether she was simply overanalyzing the situation or if he truly meant what he said.

Tech could see the shift in her expression, and it made him feel a sudden pull of empathy, knowing all too well how it felt to be self-conscious about something others may overlook or criticize. He straightened slightly, choosing his words more carefully now, but still with the same warmth in his voice.

"I’m not attempting to purely be kind," he said, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I do find your features to be fascinating. I consider that fascination positive. It’s rare to see someone with both the mallen strands and heterochromia—They have a magnet quality."

His words were steady, but beneath them was an earnestness that felt real—no forced kindness, just the quiet observation of someone who genuinely appreciated the things that made her unique.

Marina tilted her head, her gaze studying him more carefully now, her initial uncertainty shifting to a mix of curiosity and disbelief. "But you really think that?" she asked, the question almost sounding like she couldn’t quite believe it. She hadn’t expected him to respond so openly, especially considering how often she felt the need to downplay those very aspects of herself.

"Yes," he affirmed, his eyes meeting hers without hesitation. "I do not feel I have given you a reason to assume I would fabricate a compliment in order to comfort your feelings, regardless of our friendship."

There was a slight pause as Marina absorbed his words. She still felt the familiar unease that came with being the center of attention for something she considered a flaw, but Tech’s straightforwardness and genuine tone made it harder to dismiss. Her heart rate steadied as she let his words sink in. He wasn’t trying to sugarcoat things or soften the truth—he truly saw her features as something worth noticing.

"I suppose... I admit to not being used to hearing someone frame it the way you did," she admitted softly, offering a small, uncertain smile. "Most people just... don’t look at my imperfections fondly."

Tech’s expression softened, and there was a quiet understanding in his eyes. "Maybe they should. Besides, I do not consider them imperfections at all," he said, his voice low but sincere.

The silence between them felt thicker now, almost palpable, as they stood just a few feet apart, each lost in their own thoughts but aware of the other’s presence in a way that made everything feel a bit more electric. 

Tech’s mind drifted back to Marina’s features, the ones that had caught his attention the moment they first met. Her eyes, so striking and vivid, held a depth he hadn’t expected. There was something about the way the light hit them that made him appreciate the contrast between her different color irises. It wasn’t just that they were beautiful; they were alive in a way that made it hard to look away. Captivating was a good word for the effect, Tech thought. 

And then there was the streak of white in her hair, the one that framed her face in a way that added a certain edge to her otherwise soft, dark waves. Tech had never seen something quite like it before, and while he knew she didn’t particularly see it as attractive, he couldn’t help but admire how it made her seem even more distinctive.

His attention shifted to her posture then, the way she stood with quiet confidence. She had physical strength, yet there was a calm power in the way she moved, deliberate and sure. Her features were delicate, but there was a sharpness that lingered. Be it the blue lines framing her skin, moving with the contours of her body, as the tattoos boldly stood out, or the lithe muscular structure she had.

Marina, for her part, had her own thoughts spinning as she took in the way Tech stood, every inch of him calm and composed, yet still distinctly masculine. She had never realized just how much his frame intrigued her—lean, but still strong in a way that wasn’t immediately obvious. His shoulders were broad enough to give him presence, yet his posture remained loose and fluid, never too rigid. The subtle muscle definition in his arms and chest made his clothes fit just right, neither too tight nor too loose. Not to mention, his extreme height.

Her gaze lingered on his face then, noticing again how sharp his jawline was, the way his dark eyes seemed so deep in contrast to the warmth that always radiated from them, especially when he was focused on something or someone. She couldn’t help but appreciate how his features seemed to soften when he wasn’t guarding himself so closely. His face wasn’t overly rugged, but there was something undeniably attractive in the way his expression shifted so effortlessly between serious and thoughtful. And his smile—subtle as it was—felt like a glimpse into something real, something less guarded.

It was then that she realized, with a faint blush creeping onto her cheeks, just how much she appreciated his physical presence. She hadn’t thought of him this way before, at least consciously. But now, as she took in the way he stood, his posture more open and relaxed than she had ever seen, she couldn’t seem to stop noticing the quiet strength in the way he held himself. There was something striking about his features that hadn’t quite registered before.

His face, angular and defined, seemed to capture the light differently now—his sharp cheekbones and strong jawline giving him a more mature, composed appearance. She noticed how his lips, fuller than she remembered, were now set in a way that exuded calm resolve. It was something she hadn’t noticed when he was always so focused on something technical, but now, in this moment, his expressions seemed more present, more... human. His golden skin caught the fading light, and Marina couldn’t help but admire how it seemed to glow with a subtle warmth. There was a clarity to him now, both in appearance and demeanor. 

Tech caught the shift in her expression, and despite himself, he couldn’t help but feel a rush of warmth through him. Now that he’d seen her gaze linger, the way her eyes softened when they met his, he realized how much he’d been thinking about her, in ways he hadn’t really acknowledged before. Her presence was striking, but it wasn’t just her looks that stood out—it was everything about her. The way she held herself, the confidence she alluded. Everything about her made him feel an unexpected sense of calm, despite the whirlwind of thoughts in his head. He hadn’t realized how drawn to her he’d become, how much he admired the quiet strength she had, both physically and mentally.

It became clear in the way he had subtly closed the distance between them. After Marina had gently stepped out of his personal space, careful not to intrude, Tech had unknowingly drifted back into the proximity they’d shared before. Even more telling, his hand had come to rest on the table behind her, a simple gesture that framed her within the space without being threatening. The air between them shifted, the quiet energy now charged, as both of them became acutely aware of how close they truly were.

They both stood there, each quietly acknowledging the attraction, but neither ready to act on it just yet. Instead, it lingered in the space between them, the unspoken connection hanging in the air. Both were more aware of the other’s physical being now, and while they weren’t quite ready to categorize the tension, it was there, building slowly but steadily, a quiet, undeniable truth they were both still processing in their own ways.

"Tag" (A flashback) || Captain Rex x OFC Mae || Clone x OC Week 2025

Pairing: Captain Rex x OC Mae Killough (Bio HERE)

Word Count: 5.7k+

Rating: SFW

Warnings: honestly... can't think of anything. Tooth rotting fluff maybe?"

Author's Note: Day 2, let's go! This is a flash back to Rex's second trip to Pabu in which he spends some quality time with our favorite doctor. I hope this little fluffy moment before the Captain slips into denial over his feelings is a nice reprieve! Thanks again to @clonexocweek for organizing this event! Reminder this all exists within @leenathegreengirl 's Pabu AU! ~ M

Previous work | Chronological Next Work || Masterlist

Echo decided to take a last-minute detour. He couldn’t entirely blame him, though. Aiko had sounded distinctly unsettled over the transmitter, and while the issue might seem trivial to some, Echo wasn’t the type to let things slide. Rex didn’t mind the change of plans. After his first trip to the island, he’d found himself unexpectedly charmed by many things: the temperate climate, the stunning scenery, the peaceful atmosphere. And of course, the captivating doctor—

Ever since his first visit to Pabu, her kindness had quietly lingered in his thoughts. It even found its way into his daily life, hanging around his neck. That little piece of glass she’d given him? He’d never been able to take it off. Something about it just fit. Maybe it was the color, which reminded him of 501 blue. Or maybe it was simply the fact that it was the first gift he’d ever received that had nothing to do with his life as a soldier. Rex wasn’t entirely sure. But one thing was clear: he liked it. And he enjoyed her company even more.

When he’d given her his comm channel, he hadn’t expected her to actually use it. But she did—frequently. And soon enough, he discovered she was just as quick-witted as she was kind. She opened up about the little details of her life, and in turn, he shared his. She vented about long days at work—he couldn’t help but offer a similar complaint, albeit with the unfortunate addition of being shot at. There was something about the way she mixed playful banter with a deep sense of respect that felt refreshing. In her, he found a kindred spirit.

That said, he hadn’t quite found the time to visit again. Despite his best intentions, he’d been pulled into the whirlwind of responsibilities following Senator Organa’s agreement to join their cause. The senator’s connections and resources were proving invaluable in his mission to save as many of his brothers as possible. But all those new opportunities came at a cost: time. Time he didn’t have to spare for trips to distant islands or for the company of pretty doctors, no matter how much he wanted to.

Still, there was something comforting about the thought of her. Even in the midst of his increasingly hectic life, he couldn’t deny the small moments he spent conversing with her over com had become a much-needed reprieve. In her, he’d found more than just someone to talk to. She had become a friend—a rare connection he could hold on to in a world that often felt overwhelmingly solitary.

He couldn’t really fault Echo for insisting on stopping by to check on Aiko. In fact, it gave him a legitimate excuse to see his friend. He didn’t think anyone knew they were on the island, especially since he was able to navigate the streets without Omega’s excited cheers or the familiar presence of their brothers. Echo had made his way back to the house, but Rex knew Mae would likely still be at the clinic. For some reason, her work always seemed endless, as if she never truly left it behind.

The only light in the building came from the office, leaving the main area shrouded in darkness, still and empty. As Rex quietly slipped inside, a wave of uncertainty washed over him. He hoped his presence wouldn’t be unwelcome, but suddenly, he felt… nervous. There was no real reason to be, of course. But something about seeing her in person again felt like a daunting task. Despite having shared much information about him, including the trauma of Umbara—the darkest chapter of their deployments—there was still a certain comfort in communicating across distance. It was easier, less complicated. The idea of standing face-to-face with her again, however, felt weighty, almost overwhelming.

Before he could fully process his own hesitations, the door to the office swung open, and in an instant, panic set in. He instinctively took a step back, heart pounding, but then—chaos.

"Halt, intruder!" came the mechanical shout, followed by a flash of metal. It was AZI. Rex froze. He knew the Kaminonian droid had been assisting Mae, but he hadn’t anticipated being assaulted by a flying heap of circuits and gears, especially not while preparing to knock.

As AZI whizzed past him, Rex ducked instinctively, narrowly avoiding the droid’s enthusiastic attack. His heart raced, but just as he thought things couldn’t get more chaotic, Mae's voice rang out from the office.

“AZI, did you get em’?” Her tone was concerned and slightly frightened. Rex watched as she peaked her head out into the hall. In her arms was a large stick. Soon her eyes settled onto him, shifting from fear to surprise. The droid promptly stopped in midair, hovering awkwardly, as if unsure whether to continue its assault or obey.

Mae’s gaze shifted back to Rex, her lips parting in surprise. “Rex?” Her voice was softer than usual, a little more vulnerable. “What—what are you doing here?”

For a moment, Rex was taken aback by the genuine warmth in her expression. He’d half-expected a more formal greeting, but instead, she looked relieved—as if seeing him was a pleasant, unexpected surprise. The tension that had been tight in his chest loosened just a little.

“I… uh, I- Well Echo was checking on Aiko so I thought I’d give them space, and thought why not come check on how you’ve been…” he explained, his words still a little rushed, but the nervousness in his voice fading with each second he spent in her presence.

Mae blinked, the surprise quickly transforming into a soft, bright smile that lit up her face. “You came all the way here just to check in on me?” She took a step forward, her surprise giving way to an evident happiness, the lines of her face relaxing as she scanned him. “I didn’t expect to see you so soon,” she admitted, her voice light, almost teasing, but her eyes sparkled with genuine warmth.

Rex wasn’t sure why it made him feel lighter, but it did. The weight that had settled in his chest when he first arrived seemed to lift, replaced by something comforting, something warmer. She was happy to see him. He could see it in her eyes, feel it in the way her voice softened when she spoke.

He scratched the back of his neck, a half-hearted attempt to seem casual. “I know, I didn’t plan on interrupting anything, certainly not scaring you. I just thought it might be better to see you in person instead of just… over a screen or transmission.”

Her smile only widened at that, and she took another step closer, almost closing the distance between them. “Well, I’m glad you did,” she said, her tone gentle and full of sincerity. “It’s a nice surprise.”

Rex didn’t realize how much he’d been hoping for that until the moment it happened. A genuine smile, an unspoken warmth between them. It felt easier, this time, to be here. Standing in the same room. Facing her.

“You’ve been working late?” he asked, gesturing to the office behind her, where the dim light was still on.

Mae nodded, running a hand through her hair, looking a little sheepish. “Yeah, it’s been a long day.” She paused for a second, her smile shifting to something more thoughtful. “I didn’t expect you to drop by like this.”

“I can always come back another time,” Rex started, hesitant, as he thought about the disruption his visit might have caused. “I’m sure Echo will stay for the night—”

“No, don’t be silly.” Mae quickly dismissed his concern with a soft smile. “I was planning to make some caf and settle in for a quiet evening anyway. But… these reports can wait until tomorrow.” She paused, tapping the edge of the stick she’d been holding against the wall, her gaze thoughtful. “It’s not a problem at all.”

Rex hesitated, his voice sincere. “Are you sure? I don’t want to keep you from something important.”

Mae met his eyes, her expression firm and reassuring. “It can wait,” she assured him, setting the stick down and flicking the light switch before stepping into the hall. “So, Echo came to check on Aiko?”

Rex nodded, his brow furrowed in concern. “Yes, he was worried about her. She seems—”

“Stressed?” Mae finished for him, her tone soft, understanding. “She’s been carrying a lot lately. It’s not really my place to get into their business, but I’m glad Echo came. I don’t think anything I could’ve said would’ve eased her mind. Having him here will help.” She paused for a moment, then offered him a smile that was warm, but a little wistful. “That said, maybe we should give them some space... How about a walk by the water?”

Rex considered her suggestion, the idea of spending time with Mae alone weighing on him in unexpected ways. It was already dark by the time they’d reach the shoreline, and the thought of walking down by the ocean with her, when most of the island was silent and asleep, stirred something deep in him. On one hand, it was exactly what he needed—a quiet moment away from everything.

But on the other hand, the solitude of the night brought a kind of vulnerability he wasn’t used to. Being with her felt like a balance between longing and caution, the kind of tension that made him feel both alive and uneasy. He could already imagine the silence between them, the gentle rush of the waves in the background, and how they might both slip into that unspoken intimacy without the distractions of the world around them. His pulse quickened, both excited by the prospect of being alone with her and apprehensive about how easily things could shift. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for whatever might come of it, but the pull to be with her was undeniable.

He glanced at Mae, trying to gauge if she felt the same way. Her expression was relaxed, almost expectant, as though this wasn’t a big deal for her. She seemed so at ease with the whole idea, which made Rex’s apprehension all the more pronounced. He wasn’t used to letting down his guard so easily, especially not with someone he was starting to care about in ways he couldn’t fully understand.

"I guess a walk could be nice," he said, his voice a little rougher than he'd intended. "Quiet, though. Just... the ocean and us." His words hung in the air, and for a moment, he wondered if he had sounded too eager or too uncertain.

Mae smiled at him, and for a second, it was as if the world outside of them didn’t matter. Her eyes held a spark of something—curiosity, maybe, or maybe it was something deeper, something he couldn’t quite read. "Sounds nice," she replied softly, her gaze meeting his brown eyes with a knowing warmth that made his chest tighten. 

He felt a little foolish for worrying at all. This was just a walk. But as he stood there, facing her, the anticipation of it—the closeness they would share—felt like something more. The tension between them was palpable now, even if it wasn’t acknowledged out loud. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a little excited. Despite the uncertainty that simmered beneath the surface, something about being with her felt like it might be exactly what he needed.

"Alright then," Rex said, managing a half-smile, even as his heart picked up its pace. "Let’s go."

As they walked toward the path leading down to the water, the sound of the waves growing louder with each step, Rex’s thoughts settled into a strange, quiet place. This was uncharted territory for him. But for the first time in a long while, he wasn’t afraid to see where it might lead.

They fell into step beside each other, the soft crunch of sand beneath their feet the only sound accompanying their walk. The night air was cool, and a faint breeze ruffled the edges of Mae’s hair, the strands catching in the low light of the moon. Rex found himself stealing glances at her—at the way she moved, so effortlessly calm, as though she had all the time in the world. The silence between them was comfortable, but Rex could feel the weight of the moments stretching out in front of him.

For a while, neither of them spoke. The ocean waves lapped at the shore, rhythmic and soothing, and Rex’s thoughts wandered. He couldn’t deny the pull he felt, how he was drawn to her with every step they took closer to the water.

But still, there was something unsettling about it all—the quiet, the intimacy of the walk, the way his heart kept picking up speed every time Mae’s gaze flickered toward him. He wanted to say something, to break the tension, but his mind stumbled over the words. The idea of being with her felt like it could tip into something more, something he wasn’t sure he was ready for, and that uncertainty gnawed at him.

Mae must’ve sensed his internal struggle. Without looking at him, she spoke, her voice soft and even, as though she were testing the waters. "You know, I think sometimes we forget how much we need moments like this. Just… time to breathe."

Rex nodded, his throat tight. "Yeah. It’s easy to forget, with everything going on. But... this feels different, in a good way."

Her eyes met his then, her lips curling into a small, knowing smile. "I’m glad."

The words were simple, but they settled over him like a warm blanket. Despite the apprehension swirling in his chest, something in her smile made him feel… seen. Not just for who he was in the moment, but for all the things he had buried under layers of stress and distance. He felt a shift then—like the weight of the world had lifted just a little. Maybe he didn’t need to figure everything out all at once. Maybe he didn’t have to have all the answers. Tonight wasn’t about solving anything. It was just about being. 

A soft laugh escaped him before he could stop it, surprising himself. "Funny. I’ve been running around trying to fix everything, and all I needed was this." He gestured around them, toward the night sky, the quiet beach, and most of all, her.

Mae’s smile widened at that, her eyes softening with something that almost looked like understanding. "Sometimes, all we need is to stop running. Let ourselves just… be."

They walked in silence again, but it wasn’t the uncomfortable kind this time. It was a silence that felt easy, the kind you shared with someone when you didn’t need words to fill the space between you. For the first time in what felt like forever, Rex let himself relax, the weight of his thoughts drifting away as they walked side by side.

The night stretched out before them, vast and full of possibilities, and in this moment, Rex found himself wondering if he was ready to stop running from whatever this—whatever they—could be.

Rex took a deep breath, feeling the air fill his lungs in a way that was both calming and grounding. The sound of the ocean seemed to match the rhythm of his thoughts, steady and soothing. Mae was walking beside him, and for the first time in a while, he allowed himself to let go of the constant hum of responsibility that usually occupied his mind.

Still, there was a nervous energy inside him, an unease that didn’t quite dissipate. His heart would pick up speed every time their shoulders brushed, every time her gaze flickered toward him. He wanted to fill the space with words, something to lighten the tension, but he couldn’t find the right thing to say. The quiet between them felt more intimate than it should have, and yet, it was strangely comforting.

Mae seemed to sense his internal struggle again. She glanced at him, her expression a little softer this time. “You ever notice how the hardest part isn’t even the work or the responsibilities? It’s just... giving yourself a break, actually letting yourself take it.”

Rex let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “Yeah, I’ve noticed that. We’re so used to running, we forget how to walk... slow down.”

She smiled, the kind of smile that made him feel like she really understood. He glanced over at her, hesitant, but then something in him shifted. Maybe it was the weight of the evening, the stillness, the way the stars seemed to blink down at them like silent witnesses. Maybe it was the fact that she wasn’t pressing him to open up, just walking beside him, letting him take his time.

He decided to give it a shot, let a little of the tension in his chest slip out.

“I remember something from my time in the war,” Rex began, his voice casual, as if he were talking about an old story. He couldn’t help the way the past sometimes resurfaced when he least expected it. “We’d been stuck in this remote outpost for days. No real breaks, no downtime. Just... constant motion. You’d think it’d be a bad thing, right? But one night, the whole unit got permission to just... sit by the fire. No orders, no targets, nothing but the fire and the night.”

Mae’s gaze softened, her full attention on him now. “That sounds rare.”

“It was,” Rex said with a nod. “We were used to working at full speed, and then, for once, we were told to take a breath. And I’ll tell you, it felt strange at first. Like I didn’t know how to just... exist. You’re so used to going all the time that the quiet, when it hits, feels like something you have to fight against.”

Mae’s brow furrowed a little, curiosity piqued. “What did you do?”

Rex smirked slightly. “Well, we sat there. No one said anything for a long time. Then one of the guys pulled out a radio. I don’t know where it came from—they weren’t allowed in the field. But he started playing the long range clone broadcast, and the rest of us just listened to whatever songs play, just laughing and talking, forgetting about the war for a bit.” He let out a small, almost surprised laugh at the memory. “We weren’t in combat, we weren’t worried about what was coming next. We were just there. And it felt... good. Really good.”

Mae’s expression softened, and her voice was gentle when she spoke. “Sounds like you needed that. A moment just to... breathe.”

“I did,” Rex said, the smile lingering as he looked at the ocean, as though he could still hear the echoes of that long-forgotten night. 

Mae nodded, her eyes thoughtful. “Me too,”

Her words settled in his chest like a quiet promise. Rex let the silence stretch between them once more, this time without the anxiety he usually carried. He didn’t need to fill it with anything.

After a few moments, Mae broke the silence with a playful smack to his bicep. Before he could even react, she broke into a run, her laughter floating back to him. “Tag, you’re it!” Rex blinked, surprised at the sudden burst of energy. Tag? He wasn’t sure whether to laugh or protest, but he found himself caught up in the playfulness of it all.

Mae was quick—surprisingly quick—but Rex knew he wasn’t going to have much trouble catching her. The sand made it harder to get any real speed, but he had a few tricks up his sleeve.

He started after her, and it wasn’t long before he was closing the gap. Mae’s laughter rang out as she zigzagged through the sand, trying to throw him off. But Rex had been trained for speed. His long legs carried him easily, his body slipping into an effortless rhythm. Mae glanced back over her shoulder, clearly underestimating how fast he could move. “You’re not even trying!” she called, already out of breath.

Rex’s chuckle rumbled through the air, light and teasing. “I’m just warming up.”

Before Mae could even react, he closed the distance in two long strides, his boots kicking up sand as his eyes fixed on her, tracking every movement. He could practically sense the moment she realized how much ground she had lost—the sudden shift in her pace, the hesitation in her step. But it was too late.

In an instant, Rex reached out, his hands sliding effortlessly around her waist from behind. He didn’t even hesitate as he lifted her off the ground. His grip was sure, his arms strong, and in one fluid motion, he had her swept up into his embrace, her feet dangling in midair. It was as if time slowed for just a heartbeat, her body pressed against his with an ease that made her gasp in surprise.

“Gotcha,” Rex murmured, his voice warm with amusement as he looked down at her, his playful grin never wavering. Mae let out a surprised yelp, her laughter blending with her mild shock. The thrill of the chase still thrummed in his chest, his heart beating fast from the rush, but the feel of her in his arms, this close, added a whole new layer to the excitement.

Mae squirmed in his arms, half-laughing, half-annoyed. “No fair! I was winning!” she protested, but her smile was wide, her breath coming in quick bursts as she tried to squirm away.

“You started it,” he teased, his voice low and playful, the thrill of the chase still lingering in the air between them. His heart hammered in his chest, but it wasn’t from exertion. It was something else, something deeper that he couldn’t quite put into words.

Mae gave him a mock pout, the corners of her lips curling in that adorable way he always found irresistible. “You’re a cheater.”

Rex couldn’t help the wide grin that spread across his face, his gaze softening as he looked down at her. Her words were playful, but there was something else there—something unspoken in her eyes. His grin softened too, just a bit, as he let his thumb trace the outline of her side through the fabric of her shirt.

“I’m just fast. There’s a difference,” he said with a wink, his voice teasing but affectionate. The playful tone lingered between them, but there was a quiet warmth in the air as their gazes met.

Mae’s squirming slowed as she relaxed into his hold, a breathless laugh slipping from her lips. Her hands came to rest lightly against his forearms, her fingers curling slightly in the fabric of his sleeve, as though grounding herself in the moment. “Fine, fine. You win this time,” she said, her voice light, surrendering to the game.

For a moment, Rex held her there, his heart still racing, but his mind slowing down as he took in the feel of her in his arms. She was warm, close, her scent—the soft fragrance of jasmine and something sweeter—clinging to the air between them. He didn’t want to let go just yet.

Slowly, he began to lower her down, his hands lingering on her waist as he gently set her feet back on the sand. But he didn’t release her immediately. He kept her there for a second longer, feeling the steady thrum of her pulse beneath his fingertips, the subtle rhythm that matched his own. It wasn’t just the chase he had won—it was the moment.

When he finally let her go, his fingers lingered for a heartbeat too long before dropping to his sides. He took a slow breath, noticing the faint trace of her perfume still lingering in the air, the scent mixing with the cool night breeze. It made the moment feel even more intimate, a quiet connection between them that neither of them had spoken aloud.

Rex met her gaze, his smile lingering as he stepped back just enough to give her space. “Next time, I’ll let you have a head start,” he teased, but the underlying sincerity in his tone was unmistakable. Something had shifted between them, and he wasn’t sure what it meant, but he didn’t mind.

Mae’s smile softened, her eyes gleaming with something unspoken, before she scoffed playfully. “I don’t need a head start…” she said, her voice light, but there was a knowing undertone to it. The admission was wrapped in childlike defiance, and it made Rex’s heart skip a beat. Something about that vulnerability, the way she danced around the truth but still let him in, made him smile without even thinking.

Rex raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth curling upward in that mischievous way she was beginning to find endearing. “Whatever you need to tell yourself to sleep at night,” he teased, his voice warm and light.

Mae gave him an exaggerated roll of her eyes, a grin tugging at her lips as she turned toward the water, the sound of the waves adding a peaceful backdrop to their exchange. “Speaking of sleep…” she hummed, her voice trailing off as she gazed out over the shimmering ocean, her thoughts clearly drifting. “You think we should head back, or…?”

For a moment, Rex didn’t answer, simply taking in the sight of her—her posture relaxed, her hair tousled from the game, the way the soft moonlight bathed her face. He didn’t want to rush the moment, and yet, he wasn’t ready to leave just yet either.

He stepped a little closer, his voice soft but sincere. “I don’t know... I’m actually enjoying this,” he admitted, the words surprising even him as they slipped out. He wasn’t sure why, but there was something about the quiet night, the solitude of being with her, that made everything feel... right. “Spending time with you,” he added, letting his gaze linger on her profile, as though trying to convey what he couldn’t put into words.

Mae’s gaze softened at his words, her smile turning more tender as she turned to face him. She didn’t say anything at first, simply meeting his eyes with that same unspoken understanding, the kind that seemed to fill the spaces between their words. Before she could respond, the soft beep of Rex’s comm broke the quiet tension between them, cutting through the moment with a sharpness that felt almost jarring. He frowned slightly, reluctantly pulling his wrist up to answer.

"Yeah?" Rex said, his voice a little less steady, as though he didn’t want to break the connection between them just yet.

“Rex, where are you?” Echo’s voice came through, faint but clearly laced with concern. “It’s getting dark, and you haven’t checked in. And, uh... you know Mae hasn’t come home either—” Echo’s voice faltered for a second, clearly not used to being the one on the other end of an unspoken silence. “You two alright?”

Rex sighed softly, glancing at Mae before giving her a small, apologetic smile. He was still hesitant, unwilling to pull away from this quiet moment with her. “Yeah, we’re fine,” Rex replied, his voice casual. "We're out here... just on the beach. Nothing to worry about." He didn’t want to say too much, not with the warmth of the moment still hanging between them.

Echo’s voice came back, quieter this time, but still laced with a subtle mix of concern and irritation. “Look, you don’t have to avoid the house or anything, but…  It’s getting late, and someone needs to find Ma—” Echo suddenly stopped himself. Rex could hear the realization clicking into place. The silence stretched for a second, and Rex could practically feel the shift in the air.

"Wait," Echo continued, his tone now tinged with something else. “...You're with Mae. Alone. On the beach.” There was a brief pause before he added, “You know what? Never mind. You two have fun.”

The sharp click of the call ending was almost immediate, and Rex stood there, staring at the now-silent comm, the weight of Echo’s implications settling in. He looked up at Mae, his heart still pounding a little faster than it probably should be.

“That went well,” Rex muttered, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, even as a faint blush crept up his neck.

Mae’s expression was a mixture of amusement and something deeper, something playful and knowing. She raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms loosely over her chest. “Well, I guess we’ve officially been caught.”

Rex chuckled, stepping a little closer, though he didn’t say anything for a moment. Instead, he allowed the moment to settle again, the hum of the waves and the soft moonlight wrapping around them both. He found himself unwilling to break the silence too quickly this time, as though letting the sound of the ocean could fill in the spaces where words didn’t need to go.

“I guess we should head back,” Mae said after a beat, the hint of a smile still playing at her lips. But there was something different in the way she said it this time, something a little less certain than before, as though she wasn’t so sure about leaving just yet either.

Rex’s gaze softened, the playful grin still present, though it was tempered by the sincerity in his voice. “Yeah, I think we should... But I’m in no rush.”

Mae’s smile widened, and she took a small step closer to him. “Neither am I.”

The ocean breeze suddenly picked up, a strong gust that whipped through the night air, carrying with it a hint of chill that caught Mae off guard. She shivered slightly, her arms folding across herself instinctively. Rex noticed the subtle change in her posture—the way she had grown just a little more distant, her body reacting to the unexpected cold.

“Are you cold?” he asked, his voice soft, the concern there before he could even think twice.

“A little,” she admitted, her voice trailing off as she gave a half-smile, still feeling the bite of the wind. Before she could even consider moving away, Rex reached out. His arm encircled her waist, drawing her a little closer to him. The warmth of his touch was instant, and Mae felt her body relax slightly, the chill receding in the softness of his embrace.

When she didn’t pull away, Rex let his hold loosen just a fraction, wanting to make sure she felt comfortable. “Better?” he asked, his voice lower now, just above a whisper, as though any louder might break the sweetness of the moment.

Mae nodded, her smile softening. “Much better.”

The cool evening air no longer seemed as biting, but something else shifted in the space between them, something that felt like it went beyond the mere proximity of their bodies. The breeze seemed to carry a charge of its own, mingling with the unspoken understanding that lingered between them. There was a subtle tension, a sweet uncertainty in the air, like a question that hadn’t yet been asked but was sitting there, waiting to be acknowledged.

Rex could feel the steady rise and fall of her breath against him, the warmth of her presence making him want to hold on to the moment for just a little longer. The moonlight softened her features, casting a glow on her face that made her seem almost ethereal. His fingers tingled, wanting to reach out and maybe get a better hold on her, but instead, he leaned in slightly, drawn by the pull of the moment. 

He wasn’t sure what possessed him to do it either. It’s not like he’d ever really attempted to do it previously. At least in this context. The more sweet, and wholesome pretense of showing appreciation and care, and not conveying a need or a want. His lips brushed against her cheek, just next to her ear, a playful, quick kiss that lingered only for a second. But in that instant, something in Rex’s chest fluttered, and he pulled back just enough to look at her, the air between them suddenly feeling impossibly delicate. His lips curved into a teasing smile, but there was something deeper in his eyes now—a warmth, an earnestness that hadn’t been there before.

“Thanks for tonight,” he said quietly, his voice carrying a sincerity he hadn’t intended. “It’s been... a pleasant evening.”

Mae blinked at him, the playful spark still present in her eyes, but now softened with something else—something that spoke volumes in the way she gazed at him. She reached up, her fingertips brushing the spot where his lips had just touched her cheek, as though to keep the moment with her.

Her voice dropped lower, the usual lighthearted tone replaced by something sweeter, more intimate. “I’m glad,” she said, her gaze unwavering, and for a split second, it felt as though time itself slowed down around them. “Thank you for getting me out from behind that desk,”

The silence between them lingered for just a moment longer, a comfortable, easy space where words weren’t necessary. Rex couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips as he glanced at Mae, the feeling of contentment settling over him like a warm blanket. He let out a soft, almost relieved chuckle as he finally spoke, his voice light but affectionate. “Alright, I guess we should really head back before Echo gets any ideas.”

Mae’s laugh, light and musical, filled the air between them. It was the kind of sound that seemed to harmonize perfectly with the rhythm of the waves, the breeze, the calm of the night. “Yeah, we don’t want to give him more ammunition,” she teased, her voice still carrying that easy, playful tone.

Rex smiled even wider, the warmth of the moment seeping into him as they began walking side by side. The air between them, charged just moments ago with something unspoken, now felt simple, familiar. Just two friends, walking together after a night that felt effortless—peaceful, genuine, with no expectations. He didn’t feel the need to analyze it, not now. There was something beautiful in the quiet company of someone you enjoyed being around, and for tonight, that was enough.

And in that simple truth, he couldn’t help but feel grateful.

Something About You || Captain Rex x OFC (Mae Killough)

Pairing: Captain Rex X Original Female Character (Mae Killough); mentions of @leenathegreengirl's PabuVerse characters!

Word Count: 8,800

Warnings: Mention of troubled past (think Henry the 8th vibes honestly). Tooth rotting fluff honestly - they are so freaking cheeky and sweet its painful at times.

AN: Hi friends! Part Two of Rex & Mae's story is finally out! I have already started working on a part three, but for now, I recommend going back and reading part one if you haven't. If you have, full steam ahead! Massive shout out to my dear friend @leenathegreengirl for her amazing art featured in the cover and the full image at the end! Seriously, I cannot thank you enough for bringing them to life! Linked below is Part 1, as well as bit more info on Mae! Anyway without further ado...

PART 1 || Mae Bio || Mae Q&A || PART 3 (coming soon....)

Masterlist

Shimmering, translucent waters stood in stark contrast to the stormy, eerie oceans of Kamino. Rex had never understood why anyone would choose to spend time by the sea until he followed the others down to the beach. The warm, sandy shores, cool shade from swaying trees, and pristine waters that caressed his skin were indulgences he hadn’t known he craved.

Initially, he had donned a pair of stretchy shorts tossed his way by Hunter, only to appease Omega. She had appeared at dawn, eager to reveal the island's delights. Rex found it hard to refuse her, especially since her hair shared his distinctive hue, a welcome departure from the standard brown of the Fett genome.

As he and Omega led the way, the path through the trees opened up to a breathtaking vista. The refreshing scent of salt lingered in the air, waves lapped peacefully against the shore, and birds called to one another. Flowers crowned the bushes lining the treeline, and the warmth of the sand beckoned. Amidst it all, a figure glided gracefully over the waves.

Rex was captivated, the sunlight dancing off the water and illuminating porcelain skin. He barely noticed Omega cup her hands around her mouth, her voice ringing out as she called, “Mae!”

Startled, the figure with damp red hair turned toward them, waving before diving into the water. Rex’s heart raced for a moment until he spotted her head reemerging, breaking the surface with a splash.

“Isn’t it amazing? The locals call it surfing. Mae’s been trying to teach me, but it’s harder than it looks,” Omega chimed in, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Rex could only manage a small nod before following her into the sunlit paradise.

As Rex helped set down the box of assorted items he had been given before their journey, he focused on arranging the space according to Omega's enthusiastic instructions. He laid out a few blankets on the sand, turned the crate upside down to create a makeshift table, and propped up some tarps for shade. She had even designated a hammock in the trees for her grumpy brother, Crosshair.

The murmurs of the island's residents drifted around them as more of Omega's brothers and their companions arrived to soak up the sun. Rex felt a twinge of unease; it was a rare luxury to relax, and in truth, he hardly knew how to embrace it. The sound of footsteps in the sand and something being driven into the ground behind him intensified his brief moment of concern.

“Ready to try it again, Omega?” came a cheerful voice that stirred memories of the previous night. He had awakened to find several of his brothers and Omega peering down at him, and he couldn’t help but feel a hint of disappointment that she had slipped away during the night. Now, she stood before him, clad in a skintight black mesh fabric reminiscent of his armor's undersuit, and he was suddenly acutely aware of her curves.

Last night, he had tried not to stare, captivated instead by her bouncing red curls as she spoke. But today, avoiding glances at her figure would prove to be a challenge.

“What do you say, hun?” she asked, her syrupy-sweet voice cascading over her plump lips, completely capturing his attention.

Rex initially hummed in response, thinking she was addressing Omega, but it quickly dawned on him that her gaze was fixed on him. Both she and Omega were watching him expectantly, and he felt warmth rising in his cheeks. “Oh, uh—”

“Mae asked if you wanted to try! It’s lots of fun!” Omega chimed in, her excitement palpable as Rex contemplated her suggestion. He swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his hesitation in his throat as he glanced at the surfboard. Surely it couldn’t be that difficult, could it?

“Omega, I think the Captain could use some rest and relaxation, not a workout—”

“I’ll do it!”

The words slipped from his lips in a rush, surprising both Mae and himself. Standing there, he fiddled with the hem of his shirt, uncertain about what he had just agreed to as he awaited her response. Blinking away the shock of his own outburst, he caught Mae's smile, her palms gliding over her hips before she gestured toward Omega.

“Oh, wonderful! Omega, darlin’, could you grab one of the extra boards from over there? Preferably one of the bigger ones.”

Clearing his throat to stave off any potential voice cracks, Rex attempted to recapture the lighthearted banter they had shared the night before. “Are you calling me fat there, Doc?” he quipped.

Her laughter was as sweet as he remembered, her head shaking in amusement. “Not at all, Captain. You’re far from it—though I might suggest taking off your shirt,” she added casually, stepping away to assist Omega.

Confused by the sudden need to consider her opinion on his physique—a fact he had never questioned, given the demands of war that had kept him in peak shape—Rex caught the lingering gaze of Hunter. A smirk danced on Hunter's face, the side devoid of tattoos, as he gestured toward Rex. “Best not to keep her waiting, Captain. It’s not every day a pretty lady asks you to strip.”

“You coming?” Mae asked, prompting Rex to glance back over his shoulder. He nodded briefly and, without another word, tore off his shirt, stepping into the sunlight. As his bare feet sank into the warm sand, he caught the sound of Hunter snickering behind him and tried his best to tune it out.

“How would you rate your balance?” she asked, her gaze searching his own for a genuine answer.

“Fairly decent, I suppose,” Rex shrugged, unsure how balance could be measured, his hand rubbing along the nape of his neck.

“I can work with that. We’ll start on land,” she explained, gesturing to the board propped beside her. Assuming she meant for him to pick it up, he was surprised by how light it felt in his hands. Mae tucked her own under her arm and headed closer to the water's edge, and he followed her silently.

“Any reason we’re starting on land?” he asked skeptically.

“Well, it’s easier to practice the movements here, where you’re stable, before trying them on the water. Don’t worry—I think you’ll be a natural,” she said with encouragement as she set the board down in the sand. Rex followed suit, placing his board a few paces away from hers.

He watched as she lay across her board, positioning herself vertically on her stomach, and mimicked her stance.

“Alright, I’m correct in assuming that GAR conditioning has made you quite familiar with push-ups?” she asked, glancing over at him as she propped herself up on her elbows.

“Yes,” he replied, recalling the rigorous training the clones had undergone since their youth, which continued throughout the war.

“Perfect! That’s half the battle,” she said with a smile. “I’ll walk you through the motion if you want to follow along—”

“Right,” he said, placing his forearms down on the board just like she did.

“So, when you’re paddling out, you’ll want to push over the sides of the board until you’re on the wave. From there, pull your hands back to your sides and place your palms flat on the board near your chest,” Mae instructed. Rex followed her directions without hesitation, eager for her to continue.

“Perfect! This part should be easy for you. Just do a push-up and hold yourself on your toes,” she said, demonstrating the movement. Rex watched her lower body lift effortlessly off the board, then shook his head and mimicked her.

“Now, this is where it starts to get tricky, especially on the water. Move the leg you want as your back foot and place it near your other knee, keeping your toes on the board while maintaining your balance,” she explained. Rex observed as Mae positioned herself in a way reminiscent of a ‘mountain climber.’ He copied her movements, nodding for her to go on.

“Okay, now take your other leg and place your foot between your hands, keeping your knee bent.” She executed the motion with impressive speed, tucking her small frame up onto both feet and holding steady as she waited for him to catch up. As Rex did his best to follow suit, she nodded and pushed herself into a standing position, prompting him to quickly do the same before she could offer more guidance. He realized that while the movement felt straightforward on solid ground, it would be much more challenging on an unstable board in the water.

“Great! I knew you’d be a natural. Do you want to try it on your own to see if you’ve got it down? Then we can head out,” she said, her eyes sparkling with encouragement. A part of Rex wondered if his ability to grasp the movement had genuinely impressed her. 

Running a hand through his hair, he nodded and lowered his body again under her watchful gaze. Doing his best to recall the movements from memory, he felt confident in his performance. Just as he focused on where his front foot landed, he felt gentle fingers graze his jaw, guiding his face forward.

“Looks perfect, but remember to keep your gaze forward. Looking down can throw off your balance; focus on where you’re going, not where you’ve been…” she advised, her fingers retracting as swiftly as they had brushed against his skin. A warm flush spread across his face as she pulled away, leaving behind a lingering sensation that felt almost electric.

Using his strength to push himself up, despite the brief lightheadedness from her fleeting touch, he soon found himself towering over her again. A bright smile lit up her face, revealing her white teeth as she nodded at him. “Perfect! Let’s try it in the water,” she said, nudging his shoulder before disappearing to sit in the sand.

Curious about her sudden retreat, he watched as she took a small strap from the back and wrapped it around her ankle. He mirrored her movements in silence, noting how her gaze wandered over his frame. He knew there wasn’t much she hadn’t seen before. She was a doctor, and one who had worked with clones before. His tan skin and frame hardly differed from those around him. However, he knew his scars might be different as they told his own unique story. He felt her eyes linger on the center of his chest, where a bullet had almost claimed his life.

Red hair dramatically bounced as she realized she’d been caught staring, her eyes darting away at the last moment as she pushed herself off the ground. Rex had always been attuned to the movements of others, a skill honed over years of watching targets and surveying for danger. Her hurried movements now lacked the grace he had admired before, leaving him to wonder what thoughts occupy her mind.

Before he could linger on his thoughts, she sprinted toward the water, and he hurried after her, eager to keep pace. “Come on, Soldier!” she called back, her voice ringing with excitement as she dove into the ocean, vanishing beneath the waves. He followed suit, delighting in the refreshing coolness of the water against his skin. Carefully placing his board atop the gentle swell, he watched it bob as he stood near the shore, waiting for her to reappear.

“Do you want to try standing up here before we head out further?” Mae asked, suddenly popping up on the other side of the board, her arms gracefully shifting as she positioned herself. Assuming her suggestion came from a genuine desire to see him succeed, he nodded and hoisted himself up in the shallow water while she held the edges steady.

He immediately felt the difference of being in the water and approached the motion of standing with extra care. Once his feet were firmly planted, he rose with as much grace as he could muster. The board rocked beneath him, and when he looked down, he saw Mae beaming as she released her grip, allowing him to fully experience the push of the waves. With a joyful splash, he jumped back in, swimming close to her as she applauded. “I think you’re ready to head out and try it for real!” she said, her enthusiasm shining through.

With a nod, he watched as she effortlessly pulled herself onto the board and demonstrated how to paddle out. As soon as he grasped the motion, his gaze drifted to the captivating scene before him: the ripples of her arm slicing through the water, the sunlight glinting off her wet red hair, and the curve of her figure as she paddled ahead, her black swimsuit accentuating her silhouette.

Perhaps it was the thrill of being able to gaze without interruption, but he couldn’t help but watch her throughout their journey into deeper water. When she turned around and effortlessly hoisted herself up on the board, he quickly glanced away, not wanting her to catch him staring. He remained horizontal, moving closer and propping himself up on his elbows, ready for her to explain.

But she seemed completely absorbed in her desire to catch a wave, laying back down and paddling away, leaving him behind. 

His brown eyes carefully tracked her movements, admiring the ease with which she glided through the water. She rose as if it were second nature, standing tall atop the wave as she distanced herself from him. To his astonishment, she even had the audacity to walk along the length of the board while riding it, only to leap off into the shallow water moments later.

Knowing it would be a moment before she returned, he pulled himself into a seated position and settled in to wait. Even though he understood the movements, he still felt a twinge of unease about trying it without her guidance. As she paddled closer, she grinned and waved, and he couldn’t help but mirror her smile. She looked truly at peace—much happier than the day before, when exhaustion and stress had weighed her down. Now, she radiated lightness and joy, enjoying the water not as a task, but as a pure source of delight. Perhaps it was a type of relaxation he could come to understand in time. 

“How’d you do that?” he asked once she was close enough for him to see the dimples in her cheeks.

“What, walking?” she replied casually.

“Yeah, it looked so effortless,” he complimented.

“Practice. Time. Definitely not a move for beginners like you. Speaking of which—” she nudged her head toward his board, “are you ready to give it a shot on your own?”

“I suppose. I can already tell paddling is going to be quite the arm workout,” he said, gesturing as she let out a light laugh.

“It is! How do you think I got these guns?” she said playfully, flexing her surprisingly impressive bicep for someone her size. Unsure why he felt compelled to comment, he was even more taken aback when a cheeky remark slipped from his lips.“Whoa there, Ma’am! Do you know how to handle a loaded weapon like that?” 

From shock at his quick remark to a teasing smirk, she shot back, “Not sure, Captain. Why don’t you come over and give me some firearm training since that’s your area of expertise?” Her laughter rang out as she turned away, leaving him momentarily speechless, mouth agape. He blinked in disbelief, a smile creeping onto his face despite himself. “Well, I do have a few tactical moves up my sleeve,” he called after her, trying to regain his composure.

She glanced back, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Oh, really? I’m intrigued!”

With a newfound determination, he pushed off the board and paddled toward her, his confidence slowly building. “Alright, just remember: I’m an expert in this field,” he teased, aiming for a lighthearted banter as he caught up with her.

As they floated side by side, he couldn’t help but admire the way the sunlight danced on the water around them, mirroring the playful energy between them. “Most important part of handling weapons is making sure they are properly maintained” he asked, raising an eyebrow, gesturing to her arms as the woman caught on to what he was insinuating with a laugh. 

She laughed again, the sound like music in the salty air. “Oh of course, Captain! Might I need to pass your expert inspection…?”

He grinned, enjoying the playful tension between them. “Absolutely! I take my inspections very seriously,” he replied, feigning a serious expression that quickly broke into a smile. 

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress her laughter. “Well, I hope you’re thorough,” she said, inching a little closer on her board. 

“Thoroughness is my specialty,” he quipped, feeling a rush of excitement. He studied her arms, the sun casting a warm glow on her skin, and added, “You’ve clearly put in the time. Those guns are impressive.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Captain,” she replied with a wink, leaning back slightly as if to give him a better view. “But can you keep up with me when it comes to the real action?”

“Oh, I think I can handle a little competition,” he shot back, his competitive spirit ignited. With that, he paddled ahead, urging her to follow. The chase was on, and the thrill of the moment filled the air. As they raced across the water, laughter and splashes followed them, the sun warming their skin and the ocean breeze carrying away any lingering doubts. He felt alive, invigorated by both the challenge and her presence. 

There was something refreshing about the way he could be both playful and straightforward with her. Rex couldn’t recall the last time he’d flirted so unashamedly with a woman—certainly not for the simple joy it brought him, rather than with the aim of a quick hookup. But as she surged ahead in their race toward the shore, her board catching a wave and propelling her effortlessly forward, he found himself grappling with a revelation: he was flirting with Mae.

She was the same charming doctor who had shown kindness to Echo and every man he’d sent through Pabu. The woman who had welcomed Aiko and made her feel at home. Everyone seemed to hold her in high regard, and Rex had quickly come to appreciate her even more after catching glimpses of her past. There was a depth to her that drew him in, making this playful exchange feel all the more significant.

Silencing the nagging voice inside him that questioned “why,” he attempted to stand, following the motion he’d practiced. His feet barely made contact with the board before he found himself sliding off into the cool water. Breaking the surface, he spotted Mae watching him with a playful smirk. “You put your front foot down first—that’s what made you fall off the back,” she critiqued, her tone light as he blinked, processing her words. It dawned on him that she was right; he had indeed led with his front foot. 

“You need to establish a firm foundation first,” she continued, offering a smile. “That said, it wasn’t a bad first attempt. I’m sure we’ll get you there in no time.” Her encouragement wrapped around him, igniting his determination to improve. He wiped the water from his eyes, feeling the coolness of the ocean embrace him as he grinned back at her. “Alright, then. Let’s try this again.” 

Mae nodded, her enthusiasm infectious. “Just remember, start with your back foot, and try to keep your weight balanced on the board,” Taking a deep breath, he swam back to the board, climbing on with renewed focus. He steadied himself, recalling her advice as he positioned his feet carefully this time. As he prepared to rise again, he glanced over at Mae, who watched with an encouraging smile.

“Ready?” she called, her excitement palpable.With a nod, he paddled out with the wave gaining momentum. As he felt the board finally catch along its pull, he  pushed up, this time leading with his back foot and shifting his weight more deliberately. For a brief moment, he felt the board stabilize beneath him. Just as he thought he might actually succeed, the wave surged, and he wobbled precariously. 

“Keep your core engaged!” Mae shouted, her voice cutting through the splash of the waves. He concentrated, trying to maintain his balance. But just as he thought he had it, the board tilted, and he found himself slipping again. This time, he fell with a splash, but as he broke the surface, he couldn’t help but laugh. Mae burst into laughter too, her joy infectious. “You’re getting closer! Just a bit more practice, and you’ll be a pro.” 

“Yeah, if I don’t drown first,” he joked, paddling back toward her, needing a moment as he found the paddling to be a bit more draining than he’d anticipated. 

“Can I make a suggestion?” she asked after a moment. He nodded, slightly puzzled, as she drifted closer. Pulling herself onto the board beside him, she abandoned her own board for a moment. Her hands lifted to his shoulders before sliding down to his elbows, gently raising them. “You can extend your arms to help stabilize yourself, but you’re really tense,” she said, her voice calm and encouraging. “You need to relax a bit…” She moved her hands back to his shoulders, her fingers gliding along his skin in a soothing manner. Gradually, he followed her advice, allowing the tightness in his shoulders to melt away under her gentle touch.

As he relaxed, he felt a warmth spreading through him, both from her touch and the shared moment. “How’s this?” he asked, trying to gauge her response. Her fingers flexed for a moment before disappearing from his body. “Much better,” she replied, a smile brightening her face. “Now, focus on your balance and the rhythm of the water. You can do this.”

He took a deep breath, feeling the gentle rocking of the board beneath them. “Alright, I’ll give it another go,” he said, determination bubbling up within him. 

“Just remember to keep your core engaged and take your time,” she added, her hands pushing off his board as she returned to her own once more. Offering a reassuring grin she told him. “You’ve got this.” With her support, he began to paddle once more. Pushing himself up again, leading with his back foot and extending his arms out for balance. This time, he felt more stable, the water beneath him less daunting.

“See? You’re doing great!” Mae cheered, her enthusiasm infectious.

For a brief moment, he found his footing, gliding over the gentle waves with newfound confidence. But just as he began to believe he had mastered it, a larger surge bumped into the board. He wobbled precariously, and before he could adjust, he tumbled into the water once more.

Emerging with a splash, he laughed, shaking his head as he glanced over the top of the bobbing waves.“Hey, every attempt is a victory!” she called out, her laughter mingling with his own as she paddled closer. “You’re making more progress than you realize. Let’s try again!”

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

Returning to shore with a lighter air around him, he followed behind the doctor as she insisted they should take a break, claiming she was tired. Deep down, he knew her suggestion was really for his benefit. Rex had severely underestimated how draining the activity could be. Still, he felt a swell of pride for the progress he’d made.

“You looked a bit awkward out there, Rex. Surfing is harder than you thought, huh?” Hunter joked as they approached the spot where the rest of the group had gathered.

“I don’t see you out there giving it a shot,” Rex shot back.

“I value my reputation, thank you very much. Can’t have people watching me make a fool of myself like some people,” Hunter replied, a playful smirk on his face. Rex scoffed at the insinuation, laughter bubbling up between them.

“Oh hush, he’s doing great. Although any more sun and you are going to start burning there Captain-” she nodded towards him as she held a bottle of what he assumed was some sort of sun protection. 

“You’re one to talk,” he said, gesturing to her cheeks, already flushed from the sun despite the sunscreen she had applied.

“Some of us are just a bit less immune to solar radiation,” Mae replied, raising an eyebrow with a playful smile. “But if you wouldn’t mind, I could use some help with my back.”

Rex felt a swirl of excitement and apprehension at her request. Part of him relished the idea of being close enough to touch her, while another part worried about what that might mean. Yet, she had already touched him several times, each encounter feeling casual and comfortable. Taking a deep breath, he chose to embrace the moment. “Not a problem, ma’am,” he said, trying to sound confident.

“Well, aren’t you a charmer?” she giggled, her fingers deftly grasping the zipper of her wetsuit and tugging it down from her sternum to her bellybutton. As she slipped her arms free from the material, Rex stepped forward, his gaze instinctively dropping to the ground to avoid staring as she applied sunscreen to her front. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed her being particularly careful, making sure every inch of her chest was covered before moving on to the rest of her body. She bent at the waist to lotion her legs, her bottom brushing close to him as he struggled to keep his focus on the lapping waves instead of the fact she’d shoved her quite round bum near him. 

“Alright, you’re up!” she said with a playful giggle, waving the bottle of sunscreen. Rex raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Me?”

“Your back!” she clarified, gesturing toward him. Suddenly, it struck him that she intended to help him out before he had a chance to return the favor. Turning around, he felt her step closer, the warmth radiating from her as she placed her palm on his right shoulder. The unexpected touch made him jump, eliciting a soft snicker from her as her delicate hands began to rub the lightly fragrant lotion into his skin.

Instantly, he felt the tension he had been holding since the start of the war begin to melt away under her nimble fingers. She moved with purpose, ensuring the lotion was absorbed without lingering too long, her hands gliding across the expanse of his back. When she finally withdrew, he turned to reach for the bottle, but she looked up at him with a bright smile and tilted her head slightly, saying, “Lean down for a second.”

His eyes widened in confusion as she gently cupped the side of his head, her thumbs brushing the tips of his ears. Unsure of her intentions, he choked slightly on his own saliva, which had been pooling in his mouth, and stammered, “What—?”

“Ears are one of the most common areas to develop melanoma,” Mae explained, reminding him that she was a doctor. Her intentions were purely clinical; she aimed to highlight a vulnerable area prone to severe damage. Clearing his throat, he looked down into her eyes and noticed a delicate ring of gold encircling her blue irises just before she met his gaze.

“Good to know,” he said, and as she nodded, he felt compelled to add, “Thank you.” She acknowledged him with a slight bow of her head before handing him the bottle and turning her back to him. Her long red hair cascaded down, obscuring part of her shoulder. He gently tapped her shoulder and gestured, “Uh, you might want to—”

“Right,” she chuckled, gathering her hair into a makeshift ponytail, pulling it out of the way. Just as he was about to place his open palm against her back, something caught his eye—a scar, almost like a brand, marred her right shoulder. It was unmistakably intentional.

He felt a surge of curiosity mixed with concern, racking his brain for a moment as to why it looked so familiar. His gaze lingered, and she turned her head slightly, asking, “Something wrong?”

Rex hesitated briefly before placing his hand in the center of her back, rubbing in the sunscreen gently while his mind raced, trying to recall where he’d seen that marking before. As he moved his hands lower, he felt her shiver at the contact just above her swim bottoms.

“Sorry,” he murmured, catching the airy, uncertain response from her. “You’re alright, hon,” she reassured him, though the warmth in her voice didn’t quite mask the hint of tension.

In that moment, the marking and her accent struck a chord within him, illuminating details of her past he hadn’t anticipated uncovering. The realization weighed heavily on him, a deeper understanding forming in the quiet space between them.

Killough. Rex recalled reading about them in the archives as the war progressed. Despite the Republic’s diminished presence in the Outer Rim and the overwhelming focus on the droid armies, he was aware of the criminal activities lurking in the shadows of the conflict. The Killough Clan was notorious—a wealthy and well-connected crime family deeply entrenched in the region. They frequently associated with the Pykes, the Hutts, and other dangerous organizations. Why else would she bear a brand from such an organization unless…

Fingers lightly grazing the burn, Mae turned away abruptly, her eyes flashing with an unreadable emotion as she stepped back from him. “Thank you,” she said, avoiding his gaze. Rex might have probed further, perhaps even flirted, if he hadn’t just stumbled upon a revelation that made his stomach sink. Surely she couldn’t be connected to them. Right?

“You’re welcome,” he replied, tension hanging thickly between them. The weight of the realization that he’d pieced together her past hung over them, a shadow neither could shake. For how the man perceived her reaction, it was clearly a painful subject, possibly even incriminating. And for her, he sensed that she feared he would judge her based on it.

This unspoken tension made their quick exit easier, each of them looking for an excuse to escape.

As Rex stepped away from the group, he struggled to reconcile the fun, flirty doctor he had been enjoying with the unsettling possibility of a darker past. The contrast left him feeling uneasy, and he needed time to process it all. Just as he made it to the treeline of the beach he heard a raspy voice say, “go away,”. 

Crosshair. 

Rex had forgotten the sniper had settled into a hammock away from the others in this direction. Not wanting to confront his prickly personality amid an internal crisis, he almost muttered “gladly” in annoyance as he stepped away.

“Problem…?” came Crosshair's voice, tinged with an unexpected concern as Rex turned to see him leaning over the edge of the hammock.

“You all— I mean, someone has to know… how—” Rex struggled to articulate his concern, the words eluding him as Crosshair’s dark eyebrow shot up in interest.

“I can’t believe you let Stitches lure you into her death trap she calls surfing,” Crosshair remarked, either attempting to deflect the conversation or tease him while he was vulnerable—Rex couldn't quite tell.

“And I can’t believe you all are letting a woman connected to a criminal enterprise roam freely, let alone neglect to warn a guy—” Rex shot back, his frustration bubbling to the surface.

Crosshair's sharp intake of breath and equally hostile tone cut through the air as he dropped to the ground beside Rex in the blink of an eye. “What did you just say?”

Caught off guard by the sudden transition from teasing to menacing, Rex straightened, irritation bubbling within him as he realized the enhanced clone had the height advantage.

“I said you’re all either ignorant or reckless for allowing a woman connected to the Killough Clan to roam freely—” Rex retorted, his voice steady despite the tension.

“I’d recommend you keep your mouth shut about things you don’t understand and that don’t concern you—” Crosshair hissed, his tone icy. Rex clenched his fist, anger bubbling beneath the surface, but pressed on.

“It does concern me. I’ve spent all day in the company of a woman—”

“Mae. Her name is Mae,” Crosshair interjected sharply.

“Mae” he corrected before continuing, ”Who’s walking around with a brand from one of the most dangerous criminal organizations in the galaxy,” Rex shot back.

“Like I said, stop involving yourself in things when you don’t know the whole story,” Crosshair warned, taking a step back, eager to distance himself from Rex before the tension escalated further.

“But-” 

“Don’t you think one of the first things Tech did when we saw that scar was investigate? We’re not fools. We know better than to get involved with dangerous people, especially for Omega’s sake. As for why she has that scar, that’s not my story to share. But I’d advise you to think very carefully before you disrespect a woman who’s spent the better part of a year cleaning up your messes without you even realizing it.” With that, Crosshair turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Rex momentarily speechless.

Glancing back at the water’s edge, Rex saw Mae standing waist-deep in the waves, her smile radiant as she demonstrated to Omega how to push up on the board. The memory of her gentle touch lingered in his mind, alongside the uncomfortable realization that Crosshair had been right: she had given him no real reason to worry. He didn’t know the full story, but he wasn’t about to find comfort in the words of a sniper with a blood-soaked past tied to the Empire. 

Rex knew he had to be cautious; survival depended on it, and that instinct was not something he could simply switch off. Yet, as he watched her vibrant red hair catch the sunlight, he felt a growing urge to extend some grace until he had more clarity.

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

The sun was beginning its slow descent over the water, casting a warm glow on the beach. Most of the group had retreated to clean up before dinner, leaving Rex alone with Hunter as Omega waved goodbye over her shoulder. 

“Someone should stay down here to make sure she’s okay,” Rex said, nodding toward Mae, who was now sitting on her board, watching the sunset with her back turned to them. She had kept her distance from him for most of the day, perhaps still affected by the moment he’d touched her scar or by his argument with Crosshair. Whatever the reason, he had retreated into himself since then.

Trapped in his own thoughts, Rex found himself trying to piece together the fragments of her past. Could she have been a slave? Maybe she was the child of an advisor? Or perhaps she had been tangled up with a former lover... 

As he glanced out at the silhouette of her figure breaking the horizon, a thought struck him: what if he simply asked her? She had been honest the night before about her experiences in the RAR. If she opened up it would certainly ease his own mind.

Spotting the board he had neglected earlier, Rex paddled out to meet Mae on the water. She was much further away than before, and it took him significantly longer to reach her. As he got closer, he noticed she still hadn’t taken her eyes off the sunset. With her legs drawn up on the board and her chin resting on her knees, she seemed lost in thought. Without her wetsuit, the pink of her shoulders stood out against the fading light.

He was certain she had sensed his approach, yet she remained silent. Uncertain of how to begin, Rex felt a wave of regret wash over him for seeking her out. What if she was angry? What if he had crossed a line and she needed space? The confidence he had felt just moments ago seemed to dissipate, leaving him anxious and unsure. Surely, things hadn't shifted from wonderful to tense so quickly.

He cursed the Kaminoans for programming him for war rather than for navigating human emotions. Throughout his life, he had been led to believe he wouldn’t need to engage with civilians, leaving him unprepared for moments like this. The decision to forgo pleasantries now felt like a misstep. Though he was a free man in many ways, he would eventually need to connect better with civilians.

In the past, he had mostly adhered to regulations, interacting only with a select few—like the Senator’s handmaidens or some hired help at the 79s. He remembered Jesse’s girl, the one who had gotten pregnant, whom he had helped off-world after the war. But those brief encounters hardly made him an expert in emotional matters.

“I don’t blame you, you know,” she said, her tone firm yet laced with a palpable dejection.

“Wha—” he started, but she turned abruptly, locking him with a gaze that made even the battle-hardened captain shrink under the intensity of her eyes.

“Please, don’t pretend you don’t understand. I know you saw it. I’m fully aware of what that mark signifies. I had hoped you would be the kind of man to ask me, rather than fleeing as if I personally were the one who committed those crimes,” she began, and in the brief moment she paused to run her hand over her hair he started to reply. 

“So that means you—”

“I’m not finished,” she interjected, her voice steady but infused with a quiet strength. He nodded, letting her continue. “Have you ever been on your own, Rex?” she asked, her gaze softening as she studied his features.

“I—uh, well, no. I can’t say I have. I’ve always had someone. My brothers, our Generals. There was always someone there,” he admitted.

“It’s not easy being alone at such a young age. I found out he was going to sell me off to some associate to be his bride. I endured years of abuse, watching my mother and every bride he took after, killed for giving him daughters. But learning I was to be ‘gifted’ to a man fifty years my senior was the final straw. When I escaped, I went to the one place I knew they’d be too afraid to look for me.” 

“Coruscant,” he filled in the blanks, understanding how she had become part of the Republic.

“I always wanted to be a doctor,” she continued, her voice tinged with longing. “I felt a sense of purpose when I patched myself and my sisters up. But medical school is expensive, and I left everything behind when I fled. I enlisted so I could study for free, to see the stars, knowing that it was too close to the Republic for them to ever find me again.” Mae closed her eyes, a soft breeze tugging at one of her damp curls before letting it settle by her shoulder once more.

“I—” he trailed off as she opened her eyes again. The fading light cast a silvery hue to them, momentarily captivating him and causing him to lose his train of thought. Regaining his composure, he pressed on. “I’m sorry for running off earlier. You have to understand, I’m a soldier. I’ve been trained to be hyper-aware of danger, even when it comes in unexpectedly beautiful forms.”

“Is that your way of saying I’m pretty, Captain?” she teased, a playful smile breaking through the tension and bringing a moment of ease between them.

He chuckled softly, a warmth spreading through him. “Perhaps it is. But it’s more than that. It’s how you handle yourself. You’re strong, and that’s what caught me off guard.”

Her smile widened, and she leaned in slightly, curiosity sparkling in her eyes. “So you’re saying strength is attractive?”

“Absolutely,” he replied, his tone earnest. “In my experience strength like that, it’s a rare quality. Most people hide behind walls, but you seem to embrace your experiences. That and admittedly-“ he looked at her with a smile before saying, “you are very candid,”

She tilted her head, considering his words. “Well, it hasn’t always been easy. But I’ve learned that there can be strength in vulnerability.”

Rex felt a shift in the air, a new understanding forming between them. “I’ve always been told to keep my guard up, but maybe there’s something to letting it down sometimes.”

“Exactly. You don’t have to carry the weight alone,” she said, her voice gentle yet firm. “We all have our battles, Rex. Sharing them can lighten the load.”

He nodded, feeling a sense of relief. “Then maybe I can start by sharing a bit more… that is, if there was someone willing to listen..?” His tone conveys a question rather than a statement as her eyes flash with understanding.

“Good,” she said, her smile returning. “I would be honored,” the redhead told him as he turned away, suddenly bashful at the notion. 

“Remind me to give you my comm channel when we get back,” the man said, his gaze fixed on the horizon where the sun just began to peek over the water. Darkness would soon envelop them, and he knew they should return, but a part of him yearned to stay.

The weight of the moment hung in the air, inexplicable yet significant, as if the atmosphere crackled with unspoken energy. He felt a flicker of hope at the prospect of friendship and the stability it could bring—especially with someone who had been quietly supportive without him even realizing it. Memories of Crosshair’s words flashed through his mind, mingling with the insights he had gained the night before.

“Hey Mae?” he called, drawing her attention from the fading sun to him. She lifted her head from her knees, a curious hum escaping her lips. “Thank you,” he said, sincerity threading through his voice.

He wasn’t entirely sure which part of her kindness he was acknowledging—her honesty about her past, her compassion towards his brother, her understanding of his nature, or the lightheartedness that made him feel at ease. Maybe it was simply the way she made him feel like just a man, watching the sunset with a remarkable woman. Regardless of the reason, he felt compelled to express his gratitude.

“Anytime, Rex,” she replied, brushing her hair over her shoulder with a soft smile. “But we should probably head back,” she added, letting out a gentle sigh.

“Yeah,” he agreed, stealing a glance at her. The sun had kissed her skin, giving her a warm glow. “You’ve been out in the sun all day. It’s definitely time we get you back.”

With that, they leisurely began to paddle back toward the shore, neither in any rush to end their time on the water. Eventually, as the shoreline beckoned, they reached the shallows. Rex and Mae hopped off their boards, the cool water swirling around their ankles as they walked back to the beach.

Just as they were about to step onto the sand, Mae paused, her fingers sifting through the sand below. A delighted sound escaped her lips as she unearthed something.

“What is it?” Rex asked, intrigued. He couldn’t help but find her childlike excitement endearing as she examined her find.

“Your armor—it's blue, right?” she asked, holding up the small object in her hand, a glimmer of curiosity in her eyes. He nodded as she held the small object up to the fading light, revealing a blue fragment nestled between her slender fingers. Unlike typical glass, it had a frosted appearance, giving it an almost ethereal quality. “It’s called sea glass,” she explained, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “It forms when fragments of glass get smoothed out by the sand, making them soft to the touch instead of jagged like broken shards.”

She handed it to him, inviting him to examine it more closely. The color mirrored that of his blue armor, and it was indeed as smooth as she described. Yet, despite its beauty, Rex found himself puzzled by her delight over what he considered just a piece of discarded glass. Rex turned the sea glass in his hand, admiring its color and smoothness, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was just an oddity. “It’s beautiful,” he said, trying to match her enthusiasm, “but why are you so excited about it? Isn’t it just… trash?”

Mae laughed softly, her eyes twinkling. “That’s where you’re wrong! It’s not just trash. It has a story—it was once something else, maybe a bottle or a jar, and now it’s something new. Isn’t that kind of magical?”

He looked at her, contemplating her words. There was a profound depth to her appreciation that he hadn’t considered. “So you see beauty in… broken things?”

“Exactly! Just like us,” she said, her voice sincere. “We all have our own scars and stories, but that doesn’t mean we can’t find beauty in them despite the pain they once caused.”

Rex felt a flicker of understanding ignite within him. “I guess I’ve always focused on the damage itself rather than the possibility of finding beauty in it.”

Mae smiled, a gentle encouragement in her gaze. “It’s okay to feel that way. But remember, just like this sea glass, we are still here. Resilient and shaped by what we’ve endured into something entirely different,”

He handed the sea glass back to her, a newfound respect for its significance growing. “Thanks for sharing that with me. I suppose I needed a reminder.” She beamed at him, tucking the piece into her pocket as they continued their walk along the shore back towards her home, leaving the beach behind them. 

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

The following morning brought with it the realization that he had to return to the stars and the mission that awaited him. After saying his goodbyes the night before, he decided to slip away quietly before anyone else woke up. He neatly folded the blanket from the sofa where he had slept and grabbed his bag, casting one last glance down the hall at Mae’s closed door. He knew she was likely still asleep, just as Echo and Aiko were in the other room. He didn’t want to disturb her; she seemed to be someone who rarely got the rest she needed.

Pabu in the early morning light was just as beautiful as it had ever been—quiet, warm, and inviting. It felt like home, even though he knew he shouldn’t allow himself to get too comfortable here. Yet, he understood why the others had found a sense of belonging.

Each step back toward his ship felt surprisingly lighter. After sharing his private communication channel with the talented doctor the night before, he left the decision to reach out in her hands. She had thanked him for finally showing his face after all the clones who had passed through her care on his behalf. He felt willing to let their friendship develop at its own pace, however that might unfold… for now.

Just as he caught sight of his ship’s outline, he heard the sound of light footsteps pattering behind him. Assuming it was Omega sneaking away to see him off, he turned, ready to greet the young girl. Instead, he found himself face-to-face with a pair of bare feet on the stone and a shock of vibrant red hair.

“I heard the door close—” Mae began, her eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief as Rex’s surprise quickly faded into a nod.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said sheepishly, his shoulders slumping as he realized he hadn’t been as quiet as he’d hoped.

“It’s okay. Someone should see you off, right?”

“I suppose,” he replied, setting his bag down for a moment, his mind racing with questions about why she had chosen to come out.

“I also forgot to give you this last night,” she said, stepping closer, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. When he didn’t respond, she rose onto her tiptoes, gently placing something over his head and letting it drape across his chest. Pausing for a moment, their eyes crossed one another. Her checks flushing at the recognition he was watching her closely. With that, Mae stepped back to allow him space once more, and he caught a light whiff of something feminine. Not exactly floral, but certainly reminiscent of the aromatic scents of the island tangled with perfume. 

Remembering why she’d stepped close to him in the first place, his hand south the item. It was the same piece of tumbled glass from the night before, but now it had a small hole at the top, threaded with a cord that extended to a leather band. “I thought you should have a memento from your first time on Pabu, and the blue matches your armor,” she explained as he turned the sea glass pendant over in his hand, marveling at its beauty and the thought behind it.

Rex held the pendant up to the soft morning light, the frosted blue glass shimmering delicately. A wave of warmth washed over him as he realized the significance behind Mae’s gift. “It’s perfect,” he said, his voice sincere. “Thank you for thinking of me.”

Mae’s smile widened, her excitement infectious. “It’s a reminder that even broken things can become something beautiful.”

He nodded, his fingers gliding over the smooth surface of the glass. As he reflected on his words, thoughts of her filled his mind. Mae came from a perilous past, having faced terrifying and uncertain situations that could have easily shattered her spirit. Yet here she stood, illuminated by the morning light, bare feet planted firmly on the ground, dressed in her nightgown—radiant and resilient. There was a strength in her that captivated him, a reminder that even in the face of adversity, one could emerge beautiful and stronger.

The pendant felt weighty yet comforting in his hand. “I’ll cherish it,” he promised. The gesture felt like a connection, something he could carry with him no matter where the stars took him.

“I hope it brings you memories of this place, of your brothers and your friends,” Mae said softly, her gaze lingering on the pendant before meeting his eyes.

“It already does,” he replied, a warmth blossoming in his chest as he took a moment to appreciate her kindness. “This whole trip has been more than I expected.”

Her expression shifted, a hint of vulnerability peeking through her cheerful demeanor. “I’m glad. It’s nice to know you enjoyed your time here.”

“More than I can say,” he said, feeling the weight of the moment. “You’ve made this place feel like home, even if just for a little while.”

Mae’s cheeks flushed, and she looked down for a brief moment before meeting his gaze again. World spinning, butterflies in his stomach as he looked back at her. His gloved hands stroking the smooth surface of the pendant between his pointer finger and thumb as he looked down at the way her expression showed a hint of longing amidst her resolve. Clearing her throat after a beat between them she said, “You should get going, though. I didn’t mean to hold you up,”

“Right,” he said, reluctantly picking up his bag. “I guess it’s time for me to ship out.” 

As he turned toward the ramp, he felt a twinge of regret. “I’ll keep in touch,” he assured her, glancing back.

“Promise?” she asked, her tone laced with hope.

“Promise,” he confirmed, feeling the weight of that commitment resonate between them.

With one last smile, he turned and began walking away, the pendant resting against his heart—a tangible reminder of their shared moments. As he sat down in the cockpit, he couldn’t help but look back one last time, capturing the image of Mae standing there, the morning light framing her in a golden glow. She’d moved further back under the large tree at the top of the Island’s hill, leaning against its low hanging branch as she lifted her hand into a wave. 

Starting up the engines, Rex felt a renewed sense of purpose. The journey ahead may be uncertain, but with the pendant as a reminder of his time on Pabu and the connection they had forged, he felt ready to face whatever awaited him among the stars. And if he found it way back to Pabu in the future, perhaps he could enjoy a few more slower moments in the midst of his chaotic life.

To be continued...

Again shout out to my friend for this amazing image!