Spoilers For: KOTFE Ch. 14, Mandalore's Revenge
(( wanna know something funny? Terrin was named before I even knew who Torian was, and now I'm constantly double-checking to make sure I wrote the correct name akld;sjdlsk
also. romance is hard to write ))
Warnings: None
Ships: Bounty Hunter/Torian Cadera
Characters: Ar'eonis'terrinxx (Grand Champion - Chiss), Shae Vizla, Khomo Fett, Torian Caera
Allies, Theron had said, and left it at that.
She hadn't known who or what to expect as she piloted that little shuttle. She hadn't known who or what would meet her when she landed at the coordinates on Darvannis.
She couldn't say she'd expected Mandalorians, but she also couldn't say that she didn't welcome the sight—quite the contrary! The familiar armor style, blasters and rockets and blades carried in well-trained hands, visors covered in dust and grime as their wearers turned to look at her as she cut through the camp.
A few she'd seen in passing—among the crowd when she won the duel to get into the Great Hunt, gathered around Mandalore the Vindicated or in one of the many hunting parties she'd joined up with for a quick big game hunt over the years. Most, however, were strangers to her or at least had changed their armor if she had ever seen them before.
Even so, surrounded by strangers, it was a welcome sight. A sight she hadn't realized how much she'd missed.
The Alliance was important to her, of course; she'd grown to care for it, her troops, but being among her brothers for once…
Terrin couldn't help but grin a little as she strode to the tent one of them was gesturing for her to go to.
The first to greet her upon entry was a Mandalorian man—one of the few who, like her, wasn't wearing a helmet. Although his was probably nearby, whereas hers had been lost with her crew and (now returned) ship years ago. He crossed his arms and gave her a once-over, an easy grin coming to his face. "Well, you're on the wrong planet! The Hutt Pleasure Worlds are a dozen parsecs out."
Terrin put her hands on her hips, looked him over as if she were a critic, grinned right back. "Really? 'Cause I could'a sworn you were a dancer. Ya sure this is the right place?"
That earned her a snorting sort of laughter from the man. "Oh, I like this one."
"Shut up, Khomo." The speaker came from a small side room within the tent. Her armor may have gone through some small changes, but that voice and red hair? Oh, Terrin remembered it well. "You're in good shape for a dead woman."
"Shae Vizla—been a long time. Heh, can't say I was expecting Mandalorians."
"We're what you got." Her scowl seemed to deepen, then. "Heard you need a factory pulverized." There was something different in her eye. Something…determined, less of the playful "fight for the hell of it" that had been there when they first met on Rishi or even when they'd faced Revan. The years had matured more than just Terrin, it seemed.
Khomo shifted from where he stood at the table, hands moving to his hips and looking like he was ready to go get his hands dirty. "A dozen clans stand with Mandalore the Avenger…—" Anything else he said faded to the background.
Mandalore the Avenger..? Terrin's grin faded, replaced by a scowl that almost mirrored Shae's. "…What happened to your predecessor?"
Shae—Mandalore—averted her eyes for a moment, shook her head. "I'm sorry. Zakuul hit your adopted clan hard; he died fighting." The stern expression returned within moments. "We've been under siege these past few years. Clan Vizla survived better than most. I ended up Mandalore mostly by accident."
Mandalore the Vindicated…dead? The last she'd seen of him…it had been when she was still in carbonite. That nightmare hellscape where she had to strike him down with her own two hands. She mentally cursed out Valkorian, though received no response.
"Half the clans are scattered," Khomo added. "Most of the rest are trapped on the heartworlds."
"When your spy-boy offered a chance to hit back, I agreed. Been on defense too long."
Terrin's expression hardened as she locked her jaw. If Arcann hadn't made this personal before… "Then we fight together, Mandalore. Against Zakuul and the galaxy." Red eyes drifted from Shae, to Khomo, then back again as a growl crept into her voice. "We'll topple Arcann yet." For Mandalore the Vindicated and what scattered members may be left of Clan Lok. For her brothers among the other clans. For her Alliance, and the galaxy.
"Right now, I'd settle for one good victory."
Shae gestured for the table in the center of the room and turned it on. Terrin leaned on it as she scanned the troop deployments, listened to Shae and Khomo explain what was already being done about that factory, and what they still had to do. Rotating teams, one in position and ready to take down that energy shield on the factory.
Fortress or no, they'd win this. They had to. The Alliance needed that GEMINI template and one less Skytrooper factory would be better for everyone in and of itself.
Switching the table off, Shae nodded to Terrin. "You want to be useful? Capture the perimeter guns and retarget the factory." Her eyes shifted to the entrance behind Terrin and she gestured for whoever must have entered to come over. "Torian!"
Torian.
…Torian?
If it was possible for one's brain to get an error message, Terrin's certainly did when she heard that name. She stood rigid for what seemed like far too long before finally turning to face him. Could she really be that lucky?
The armor was unfamiliar, scuffed with scratches and blaster burns. It was black, sleek, new—not the gray-and-yellow she last remembered him in. But it was the helmet that really caught her eye. That helmet she'd thought was lost forever when it hadn't been on board the Rust Bucket when Theron returned the ship to her. She'd known she left it there, in the room she'd shared with her husband—she'd been so distraught to discover it missing. Torian had had it made for her.
And now here it was, looking her right in the face.
It was repainted, resized to fit him, the visor covered in dust and the scope broken off and paint chipped along the edges, but she'd know that helmet anywhere. He'd really held onto it, after all this time…
"Riduur." He was breathless, the disbelief in his voice clearer than any cloudless night.
"Torian?" Her feet carried her to him as if they had a mind of their own, arms flinging around his neck to pull him into the tightest hug she could muster. It lasted but a moment before they were both scrabbling to pull that old helmet off of him.
It fell to the sand at their feet as Terrin held his face in her hands. Familiar blue eyes locked with hers, thumbs traced the scars at his cheeks, and the smile wasn't long to find his lips. He was scruffy, like he hadn't shaved in a few days, and sweat made messy bangs stick to his face. But it was Torian. Her Torian.
"What are you doing here? I… I know how long it's been, but…" She had to stand on her toes, and even then Torian still had to lean down just so their foreheads could touch. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath when he brushed a loose strand of hair from her face. "I've missed you," she whispered. "So much."
He murmured something in Mando'a, something she didn't recognize but that brought her comfort with the way he said it.
When he pulled back to look her in the eyes again, a grin found its way back to Terrin's face. One hand found the edge of his chestplate and she dragged him into a kiss.
Terrin didn't care that Shae cleared her throat behind them, or that Khomo had crossed his arms impatiently. She knew they had something to get to—ASAP—but she just wanted this one moment. One moment, with the husband she'd thought she lost. One moment, to taste his sweat and the smoke that clung to him and look into those eyes she'd missed so, so much.
One moment, before they drew their weapons and charged headfirst into battle, side-by-side for the first time in years.
Just one moment.