\ Carth \
The smell of freshly brewed caf roused Carth, but his eyes stayed closed as he recalled the night before. Oh fates. He'd told Asira so much, there might be nothing left to say. Since the loss of Telos, he'd surrendered his life to serving the Republic. Now a tickle under his skin hungered to live for more as if he were under a spell.
There was no time for such introspection. Today had to be a day of results.
He peered through his eyelashes and discreetly surveyed the room. Asira buzzed around, sipping from a tin can as she inventoried their supplies. She faintly hummed a familiar tune, an old cantina band song nostalgic of Carth's Mandalorian War days. Something about her composure and quick recovery made him uneasy. She appeared completely undaunted by the impossible mission ahead.
He slugged off the bed and straightened his crumpled clothes.
"We can probably get some equipment and more supplies here in the upper city. If we don't do anything stupid, we should be okay. After all, they're looking for Bastila not a couple of grunts like us." He spoke before she could notice he was awake. Better to jump right in than give Asira a chance to ask any more questions.
She addressed him without missing a beat, "Grunt? I hope you speak for yourself, captain. And just how, exactly, do you expect to get decent supplies with no credits?"
The sarcastic punch of her 'captain' almost knocked Carth backwards. She was obviously out-ranked. Not a single recruit on the Endar Spire would dare test their luck with such a tone. But they weren't on the Endar Spire. They were stranded on Taris. Asira had woken from death with him basically bare in her bed. Not very captain-like, was it? He decided it was best to forgo the traditional boundaries of captain and recruit for a while.
"Oh, don't be ridiculous. We earn some. There's got to be some odd jobs out there for a couple of, uh… non-grunts like us." Carth said cranking his head back toward Asira as he helped himself to some caf. The bittersweet aroma wafted from across the room and called his name. Damn she makes great caf.
"Let's at least start by scavenging around the complex. These upper city nobles have good stuff and won't notice if a few things go missing." She said before taking a long sip from her tin, peering at him over the rim. A devious gleam in her eyes proclaimed she would laugh in his face if he so much as whispered the suggestion of an order in her direction.
Carth smirked and shook his head. "And you expect me to be okay with that?" That's some nerve. Not happy getting the upper hand just once. She immediately goes for another.
He wouldn't approve of what Asira should consider stealing, not scavenging.
"I expect you to want a fighting chance at getting off this planet." The sugary drip of her voice coated any assertion. She continued speaking, but the sounds hitting his ears no longer resembled words.
When it was over, Carth found himself in agreement. Their dire need and noble mission more than atoned for the offenses.
Annoyingly, she gracefully finessed each lock without triggering any alarms.
What exactly was her position with the Republic fleet? Petty Officer 2nd Class? Did she think he was that gullible? Her credentials didn't add up.
Physique of an elite, albeit petite, mercenary.
Command of a remarkable number of alien languages.
Specifically requested by Bastila's party.
And now security expert?
He tried to keep his curious glances brief, but she was a powerful siren. Analyzing her became admiring her. She was a paradox. Known and Unknown. Trusted and untrusted. Wanted and unwanted. His head spun trying to keep up.
"Hey Carth?...
...You okay there, flyboy? Ready to get out in the fresh air? We've tapped the potential of this apartment complex." Asira brushed her hands clean on the front of her pants, leaving faint soot marks in the shape of her fingers.
"I guess if we're gonna get the hell off of this planet, we have to embrace it first." He was eager for a change in scenery.
As they took their first steps on the boardwalk, Carth drew a deep breath, pushing, for one moment, all the thoughts from his head. His attempt at a fresh start. There could be no distractions.
/ Asira /
Their first trip outside the apartment was a failure. They were lucky Carth wasn't dead. And even luckier no Sith patrols stopped them as they scurried back to the apartment.
"How about that? Esteemed Captain Onasi shot up by a couple of lowly bounty hunters before we reached the cantina? You might need to embrace Taris a little less next time." Asira poked fun to lighten the mood.
Carth stumbled into the fresher and peeled his shirt up to inspect the damage. "A bolt just skimmed me enough to take out a few layers of skin. A little bloody, but I'll be fine." Her own flesh burned at the sight, pain shot up her side like fire. No doubt, the bolt had skimmed him. A blackened crater inhabited his left hip. Most of the surrounding skin was a bloody bubbly mess.
The frustrated pilot was playing it cool.
He didn't react well to Asira's violent recoil and scowled at her through the mirror's reflection. "I suppose I should have just let them drag the guy off? They were bounty hunters, Asira! Waving blasters around in an old, defenseless man's face!"
She didn't reply. No reason to. She grit her teeth as he wormed around, attempting to pull his shirt off without flexing his core. Only a few of the swear words he muttered under his breath were recognizable. Even in pain, there was a lionhearted look to him.
"You need a hand?" He ignored her question, fumbling through a pile of medical junk, eyes squinted as if threading a needle.
Asira let the silence hang;
until he finally broke it, "Damn it all! I'd just cut it right off... if... if I could find the damn thing to do it."
"You're drawing this out. It could be off alread-." Before last sound fully left her, Carth had flung the supplies in the air and brought his hands down on the countertop with a thunderous clap.
"Hurry up then!"
The display of explosive strength startled all the hair on her neck to attention. She slipped behind, brushing against him, and stood on the closed toilet lid. It was necessary. He towered a good head above her, and she wanted to pull the shirt straight off.
"Raise your arms." Her voice remained even, casual even, but a potent combination of apprehension and excitement clashed in her gut. She fought it from crawling further up her throat.
He did as told, sucked in a large breath and held, "Go."
Nice and steady. Not too fast and not too slow, the shirt came off, over his head. Asira's eyes dripped down to take in each inch of new flesh as it was revealed. Sharing the small room with Carth was like staring down a delicious meal right out of the fire. Every ounce of her ached to indulge despite experience knowing it would scald her raw.
\ Carth \
He ignored the tearing pain as the shirt lifted. He should have stayed in bed. All he managed to do today was not die. And now he couldn't take off his own shirt.
Asira came down from her stoop, shirt in hand, and pushed him back, placing herself between him and the sink. She leaned in nearer still, inspecting his wound. "A thorough rinsing and good bandaging is really all this needs." Her face so blisteringly close, her breath heated his skin.
"I can handle it."
"You'd have to twist around to rinse it properly and bandage it up. You'll make it worse. "
Carth cranked his head toward the ceiling. "Look... Please. Just drop it."
"No. I won't. You didn't leave my side for days. I avoid thinking about all the things you must have done to keep me alive! This isn't pity. It's duty."
"It's been a while since... I uh... I just hate feeling this helpless." He'd rather bleed out than let Asira into his space. Something as simple as her presence was too intimate. It exposed parts of him he'd long abandoned.
She didn't argue, instead she placed his hands on top of his head, elbows out to the side. "Stay still, just like that if you can."
As the tight skin stretched further, Carth ordered his arms to push her away. They didn't listen, following her command instead. She dropped down on her toes, squatting to meet the gash, open legs straddling his. Her proximity roused his every nerve. Skin buckling with each new placement of her fingers. He tried not to remember the last time he was touched so tenderly.
Did she understand the consequences of her closeness? It was dizzying and required intentionally deep breaths and a wide anchored stance to keep sturdy. He hoped Asira's influence on him was easily mistaken for an appropriate response to pain.
He glanced down to check her progress, hoping to see it would all be over soon. She had shed her bulky tunic, and the scant top she wore underneath revealed the soft roundness of her breasts. They brushed against his hip rhythmically as she passed the bandage around him.
Not knowing where to next direct his gaze, he closed his eyes tight. And intended to keep them that way until the trill of his heart settled into its normal pace.
/ Asira /
The effect of her touch on his bare skin was clear. Carth's blood pulsed hot under her fingers, and his quivering drew her ache closer to the surface.
She craved any opportunity to demonstrate just how much more she would do for him. How much more he deserved. But Carth was too tense for grand gestures of passion.
One sudden movement, and he'd bound away like a tightly wound-up child's toy. So she lingered with each dab and stroke, waiting for him to give in and seize her, until she couldn't draw it out any longer. Damned soldier had conviction.
The panic of soon being separated from him threatened Asira's sense of control. As she pulled herself up along his body, she snuck a faint kiss on side of his muscled chest. If he wasn't paying attention, it'd go unnoticed.
Her lips lifted, and Carth's eyes snapped down to hers. They were glazed, flickering flames, dancing in tight circles around her mouth.