Little side note here.
~The Title of the series is S+P=T
~I don't own Smoulder. He belongs to a friend of mine who let me use him. (Thank you!)
~Wondering why Pulse didn't resist? He loves Smoulder (Has had a crush on him since he first saw the tank ), doesn't like fighting, and (if you were paying attention) he was still under the effects of his meds.
~ some creatures are refered to .com/wiki/Nexu and .com/wiki/Krayt_dragon has information about them.
Side notes over. Enjoy chapter two!
Smoulder woke early the next morning feeling terrible. His head was foggy and felt like a raging rancor had stomped on it. Everything hurt and his chest felt heavy, like a weight was on it, but he didn't know why. The previous night was a blur,
Lifting his head slightly; fighting the auras that flashed before his blurry vision, to see where he was. He was not in his own tent. He looked around and suddenly saw dark brown, almost black fuzz by his left shoulder. Stunned, he stroked it. It was soft, like a nexu cub's fur but the wrong colour. He finally realized that someone; not something, was sleeping in the same cot as him.
Questions bombarded his mind. Where was he? How'd he get there? Who was sleeping with him? What happened last night? The only answer to this was Wildfire; the name of his dead lover, who was murdered by Cad Bane some time ago. But it was impossible for the trooper to be here with him. Unless... he was only dreaming. Smoulder hoped he was. He missed Wildfire.
Resting his head back on the thin pillow, his head thundered. He groaned. He wasn't dreaming. He was hungover. His whole body was sore and stiff. The commander was no sranger to this state. He had a history of drinking, bu would rarely get himself drunk while on a mission. Closing his eyes he moaned, trying to rid himself of the storm raging inside his head.
He felt the body next to him stir. He lifted his hand to block what ever light was in the tent from reaching his sensitive eyes. He opened his eyes when a genle, yet coarse hand rested on his forehead. When his vision cleared, he found himself looking into a familiar set of steel grey eyes. They weren't Wildfire's.
"Are you feeling alright, sir?" he heard a warm voice ask softly "Sir?" it asked again.
Smoulder groaned once more holding his head as if it were about to fall off. It finally clued in to him that the voice and eyes belonged to Pulse. His current team's patheic medic. Why was he in the same tent as Pulse? What happened the night before? He couldn't remember much aside from staggering into the tent and being drunk.
"Pulse? What's going on?" he asked trying to sit up "Ugh...I feel like a rancor chewed me up and spat me back out again..."
"Not too surprising sir." The medic said calmly, pressing the commander back down on the cot. "Um...do you remember anything from last night?"
The hungover commander looked at his medic confused. Why were they topless? Where did those scars on Pulse' neck and chest come from? Where those dark marks on his skin bruises?
"It's foggy... I remember coming here drunk but nothing else." he admits "Um why are we... well...That is did we?..." he let the question trail off.
Pulse sighed "so you don't remember... kind of knew this would happen...Umm do you want to know?"
"Please tell me." The elder asked quietly.
"Well you came here las night completely...wasted I guess you could say which is why you have a hangover and feel like a...rancor ate and spat you out was it?" the medic began to explain pausing when he saw Smoulder's mouth twitch, wanting to speak.
"Um, did I hurt you?" he looked away a little embarrassed. "Just that I saw the marks and well..."
To the commander's surrise, the medic only chuckled. Was that the firt time Smoulder had heard the medic chuckle? Let along grin. Suddenly the younger clone looked adorable, almost like a baby nexu.
"Nothing perminate. Just the bruises and they'll heal and can be hidden easily." Pulse assured him.
Smoulder opened his mouth to say something when the previous nights events came crashing down on him, not helping the headache he had in the slightest. Moaning, he tried to roll away but he was stopped by the concered medic.
Pulse gently massaged his brother's temples "hey. No dying on me know. Clankers need to die firs if you're going to." he joked softly "want anything to help with the aches?"
"Why help the man who raped you? You should be hating me for what I did." Smoulder said lowly.
"Not happening, sir. As the team medic, it's my duty to treat you dispite what you did to me." he replied "Besides, the hangover is doing that already." he said good naturedly, continuing to rub the commanders pounding skull.
"But attaking you isn't the same thing as knocking your brains out." the elder protested.
"News flash, I didn't resist your advances. Look, as long as you aren't just going to use me, I'm ok with it."
The commander blushed "But what about Snipe? He'll object to it right? And in all seriousness, I should be courtmarshaled. And say if you don't report me, what will happen if we're caught? I'll tell you what. We're dead men Pulse." he said on the verge of crying.
Pulse looked at the tent wall and sighed. Smoulder was right, they'd be caught eventually. Even Snipe had told the love-struck medic that cruel fact. Worrying about it would only cause it to happen sooner. He suddenly got a crazy idea.
"I'll take the blame." he said simply.
"You'd what?" the cmmander gasped, instantly regretting it.
"Take responsibility for our actions and say that this was my fault to begin with. You'll be let off."
"But how? You where on the bottom, they'd never believe the story." Smoulder sighed.
The medic merely smirked, little did Smoulder know that Snipe had made his move. The nomally soft, grey eyes darkened and took on a killing edge. Pulse was no longer in control.
"What the little medic is trying to say is that he will claim to have drugged you with a new subtance to enhance your sences. He will go on to say the side effect was the increased desire to mate." Snipe shook his head "Personally I say 'To hell with this plan! The commander deserves to die!' but alas poor Snipe is 'dead' and can't do anything about it."
Smoulder stared at the person infront of him, his mouth agape. At first the medic seemed so docile but suddenly he had changed to a cold blooded killer. From a nexu cub to a wild Kryat dragon in less than two seconds. Even though the body never moved from where it was, smoulder knew this wasn't the same person he'd attact the night before.
"Never thought snipe would come back did ya Commander Smoulder? Well news flash, I'm not dead and I'm not going away. As much as I want to to kill you for what you did, Pulse would kill us first. So instead I'm giving you a warning, one false move, you hurt Pulse, Upset him, do something to crush his spirit, I won't hesitate to kill you. I'm not afraid of death, I've already seen and escaped it. Pulse and I are not supost to exist anyway. So I suggest you make your medic a happy person and remember, I'm dead serious." Snipe promised before reseading to the back of the combined consiousness. At the same time, Pulse came forward and the edge that marked Snipe's control faded back to their normally soft grey.
"Sorry...I panicked..." the emerging Pulse appologised.
"Is he always like that?"
"He has always been like tha...But he's never come out in front of others before..." the medic explained.
Smoulder hugged Pulse suddenly "So he's serious about killing me? I'm...so sorry, I should never have done that to you, not matter how attractive you were."
Pulse used a finger to silence the commander "Snipe tends to bluff. He's a soldier not a murderer." the medic blushed "You...you think I'm attractive?"
"Well kind of hard not to think you aren't. We do have the same face." Smoulder joked and cautiously gave the medics cheek a quick kiss.
"Well you missed my mouth, silly commander." he teased kissing Smoulder passionately.
They remained locked together for almost three minutes before pulling away. Smoulder had a sligh blush on his face while Pulse was completely red.
The commander smiled wanting to coninue what they had done earlier, but was held back by the medics firm harnds. They had once been used to kill, now they seve only to heal the injured membrs of the G.A.R.
"There's no time for that. The others will be waking up soon, it's most important that you're dressed and able to stand on your own two feet." he said kissing the elder's forhead "Come on, we want to get the jump on those clankers right?"
Smoulder nodded the nausia finally catching up to him. "Erg... I feel sick."
"You mean besides your head?"
"My stomache." he groaned.
Pulse thought a moment. "I think I have something that will help with that." he said after a pause, easing down of the cot. His back still siff from the previous night's events.
After a few moments of rummaging around in his bags, Pulse walked back to where Smouler lay with two pale coloured capsels.
"These should help." he said, helping his commander to sit up.
The clone commander groaned as he struggled to sit upright against his heaving stomache and thundering head. Twice; before he was even upright, he thought he'd lose whatever contents were in his stomache. He was glad his medic knew how to diagnose and treat the troops better than any other feild medic he'd known. It made him wonder how long it took him to figure out his purpose in the G.A.R. Snipe was one of the best sharp-shooters before something happened to him. What had happened to the rest of his squad? Were they dead? Most likely. But Pulse was something completely different; most medics in the Grand Army of the Republic could only treat blaster wounds and minor breaks, he could treat more ailments than the others.
Pulse held the capsles out to Smoulder, who took them wihout question. Smiling, the medic handed over his cantine full of water to chase down the drugs. The other clones were assembling for role call.
"Pulse. What happened to your origonal squad?" the commander asked quietly.
At first the younger didn't reply. "they... they were...erraticated." he said at length, he didn't like talking about the past.
"How?"
"I'd rather not talk about it, sir." he paused "The others are waiting. We'll be late if we keep going on like this."
"Yeah... better not keep them waiting." the commander agreed.
Pulse gathered Smoulder's under clothes and armor. Sittting behind the commander he noticed for the first time the tattoos that the elder bore. An intracate knot on his left shoulder blade, a flaming bird taking over his back, but what intriqued him the most was the ribbon of names that covered both arms of the clone. Pulse guessed the names were from fallen brothers. But one stood out at him from all the rest because of it's redish outling from being fairly newer than the others. It was Wildfire.
The medic knew that the name ment more to smoulder than just a brother he knew and faught with, and the younger didn't know why. He wasn't about to ask either. It was not his place to ask such questions of a superior, and he knew better than to pry.
When the two were battle ready, the left the medic's tent with only what they needed to take to the upcoming battle. Pulse pretended to stagger out of the tent to make it seem like the medic overslept and the commander was only in there to wake him up. The well oned commander made the act seem more believable with his disapproving frown. Pulse could easily blame his drugs for making him over sleep. It was a very crude and thrown together plan.
The medic took his place beside the engineers who gave him a scowl each, the didn't like their medic. Thought he was a sorry excuse for a clone, he wasn't. He was one with a huge secret that he would never tell. Pulse began to think that someone might have heard them last night and hoped that he was wrong. He wondered how long they could keep what they had done a secret. The Jedi weren't easy to lie to, they had ways of finding the truth. If they were caught what would be done to them?He didn't want to think about that. To think they could be caught, seperated, posibly killed for what they had done. It was not what he wanted in the slightest.
He shook his head and turned his attention to his commander who was talking with one of the Generals about the best plan of attack. From what Pulse could see, the General was Aaya Secura with a younger jedi; most likely a padawan, at her side. The padawan looked rather bored with the conversation and wanting to get into the battle, not what he expect from the peace loving jedi. They weren't soldiers like he and his brothers were.
While the 'adults' talked, the younger jedi approached Pulse. The medic stiffened, talking to a jedi wasn't something he was used to. Why did it have to be a girl? He moaned inside his head. He was never very good with talking to girls. Even the thought of talking with one on the Generals terrified him, he was only a trooper.
In this matter, however, he had no choice, for she standing infront of him now as the others went to their posts. "hey there, I'm Asokah Tano." she stated firmly, obviously not nervous.
"Cm-59-675 at your servise, Sir." he responded in the drilled fashion he was trained to.
"You have a nickname?" she asked.
"The medic nodded "It's Pulse, Sir."
"So why were you later than the others, Pulse?"
Pulse stopped short "I had trouble waking up because of my medication, Sir. It's for my heart condition and occassional seizers." he fibbed.
"Right and this medication makes you stiff?" the padawan pressed, making Pulse feel uneasy.
"Yes sir. They sometimes cause my muscles to stiffen up, but it won't hinder our progress."
"Padawan Tano, leave the trooper alone. His mind needs to be clear for the fight." The General said firmly. "He used to be a sharp shooter until nine months ago. Something about being shot." she muttered to the padawan while leading her away.
Pulse let out a sigh of relief. He felt as if he were about to give something away, he was glad the General intervined, but felt odd to be recognised. It wasn't everyday he was remembered by someone.
Asokah turned to leave Pulse with the engineers but looked back at him. "Do your best out there, Pulse." She said trotting off to her posting. As she past the others, the feeling she had felt around the medic was receding, none of the others were giving her the same feeling. It took her a few minutes to figure out what it was she felt around him. It was conflict.