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Ada perched on the Marauder’s nose, legs swinging freely off the side. She leaned back on her left arm for balance and slowly picked at her rations with her other hand. She stared out to Mulita’s horizon as her mind wandered absently, sifting through her endless assortment of daydreams.
The Batch had requested for her to keep a low profile while she stayed back on the ship during their missions. Sensing no danger, she allowed herself to soak up some local sunshine and fresh air while she could. She also hoped to use this opportunity to view some endemic wildlife.
They had only been gone eight hours, and were expected to be back to the Marauder within 12. The excitement of their return was beginning to stir inside of her, and she couldn’t help but feel a bit antsy. Her excitement was mostly for Tech to return, however she was finding herself becoming increasingly chummy with the others as well. But Tech, Tech, was becoming Ada’s comfort, her relief, her steadfast and self-assured companion in a galaxy full of endless restlessness and nerves.
She sighed, took another bite of the bland nutrients and chewed slowly. She gazed up at the fluffy pinkish-gray clouds in the pale sky, then picked up her macrobinoculars to scan the vicinity. Nothing. The sun was getting lower and the colors of the landscape around her were fading quickly.
I hope they aren’t too much longer, she selfishly thought to herself, hoping she would see a sign of them soon.
It had been a long eight hours alone so far, and Ada had plenty of time to think about her feelings for Tech and how they were growing. It was so obvious to her now, yet felt so hopeless… Every time she thought about needing to return to Tatooine or Naboo her heart would sink a little bit more. She was torn between fostering the warm, glowing ember inside of her, or attempting to snuff it out completely. But it felt so good to fan the flames, to feed it with her fantasies, with memories of their conversations, thoughts of his nearness and innate scent, or the reminiscence of his random and unexpected touch…
She rubbed the upper part of her arm, remembering when he placed his hand on it earlier that day to move past her in the cramped ship cabin, intently looking down at her as he did so.
“Excuse me, Ada,” he had quietly said, almost in a whisper.
She felt that his hand lingered on her arm a little longer than it needed to. She smiled to herself. He must feel it too.
If he didn’t, she certainly wished for it. It was a dead-end wish, though. Right? How would it work? What did it matter if he had feelings for her? She had to go back soon. Their lives were too different – different responsibilities, obligations, risks – to make anything of it.
The logical part of her brain insisted she stop the infatuation, to end it and turn away before the inevitable wretched heartache that was certain to follow had a chance to exist. It felt impossible to her; the glowing ember was surrounded by dry, combustible fuel, ready to ignite into an out-of-control wildfire. She was beginning to feel reckless, wanting it to explode so that there was no turning back, and hoping only for the best. Her irrational side was somehow convincing her that the probable crash would be worth the dopamine-fueled limerence.
The commlink they had given her to stay in touch suddenly began beeping and vibrating on the Marauder’s hull next to her. Ada let out a loud gasp and clutched her chest with her hand. She was immediately thrown back to the present surroundings, violently ripped away from her distant la la land. The incredible surprise of the commlink notification just about caused her to jump off the ship’s nose, which would not have felt good.
“Ada, we’ll be back very soon–” Hunter was cut off by the distinct noise of a blaster firing nearby. “We’ll need to be ready to depart immediately. Do you copy?”
“Copy that! I’ll be ready to go.”
“Our ETA is only a few minutes, we’ll be there shortly.” The comm ended.
“KRIIIIIFFFFF!” Ada yowled to herself, feeling the sweat bead up on her forehead. She was still attempting to settle her nerves from the extremely startling call, but was able to regain her composure and gather the items she had brought up onto the ship’s nose with her.
Right then she heard a distant blaster shot. She looked where she expected the squad to arrive from, and through the dim twilight could see the darting lights from the blaster bolts in the distance. Placing the macrobinoculars up to her eyes, she saw the action unfolding. There were the clones, running full speed over the distant hill of the horizon towards the ship, fending off angry Mulitans as they came.
Ada quickly and carefully climbed back down to the ground, scanned her surroundings, then climbed swiftly up the ramp and through the hatch. She lunged into the cockpit and began checking protocols and powering up the basic systems. Tech’s upgrades and modifications had pushed the ship far beyond her understanding. She did what she could, hoping her basic skills would still offer some help in this emergency situation.
The sound of Tech’s heavy breathing was amplified inside of his helmet. He could feel the burn in his lungs as they sprinted over the grassy meadow, bounding over the occasional low shrub or critter burrow on the ground. With both his pistols in hand, he aided in the defense of his crew as they desperately made their way back to the ship. When he finally caught sight of the Marauder, there was a slight sense of relief that hit him.
The Batch had been ambushed on their trek back to the Marauder, after they had successfully completed the objective of confiscating a rare, biologically derived elixir. Manufactured by a religious cult-like group of beings named Kaná-Gwin, the serum is used to reverse the aging process. The cult has been making this biologic medicine for centuries from the rare and valuable biological resources only found on Mulita. Knowledge of it is extremely limited and access to it is only available to members of their religious culture. A wealthy socialite from Coruscant, attempting to regain her youth through any means possible, had hired Cid to get it for her.
As he normally did, Tech wondered why they hadn’t questioned Cid a bit more before committing to this job of acquiring something that was nothing more than galactic snake oil. He had to admit, the job seemed very simple for the credits, which they needed. Unfortunately, the Batch was blindsided by the rather proficient defense methods and ingenious weaponry of a seemingly peaceful religious society. Had they been more aware and prepared, this would not be happening; they had let their guard down too soon.
Finally, they were close enough to see Ada, backlit and standing in the entryway of the spacecraft. She quickly moved out of the way as they each bounded up the ramp – Omega first, followed by Tech, Wrecker, then Hunter. Tech immediately entered the cockpit to complete the departure protocols that Ada had fortunately begun. It was only a few moments before they were off the ground and safely away from the surprising chaos. Once out of orbit, they jumped to hyperspace and headed back to Ord Mantell.
Just like that, they were back into the lull of hyperspace. The first few minutes after their hectic departure were quiet as they continued to catch their breath and remove their packs and armor.
“Well, that escalated quickly,” Wrecker finally said. “Turned out to be a fun job after all!”
“I’m not sure that ‘fun’ is the most appropriate word. ‘Extemporaneous’ is how I would categorize today’s mission,” Tech said.
“Whatever it was, it’s completed and over, and thankfully we are safe. Appreciate the ship preparation, Ada.” Hunter nodded towards her. “Omega, will you hand me the elixir from your pack?”
“Yep.” She removed the gold embellished glass bottle and carefully handed it to Hunter. “Here you go.”
He opened it and took a whiff, then quickly pulled it away from his face, grimacing and hastily putting the cap back on.
“Blech. Not the most pleasant smelling stuff,” he exclaimed.
“I wouldn’t expect it to be, even to someone without enhanced olfaction,” Tech chimed in. He was holding his datapad. “According to this report, the concoction is made from fermented tannor gonads, as well as a number of various dried and milled roots and berries from endemic plant species.
“Mmm, fermented tannor gonads,” Wrecker said laughing.
“Each small batch of it is aged, and takes approximately 35 years to make one bottle like you are holding. The assertions are that if a person places one drop under their tongue everyday, it will make them look and feel younger. However, the actual scientific evidence on this claim is completely lacking, and judging by the ingredients and the claim of religious thaumaturgy, it is very unlikely that it is anything more than a placebo. The combination of the Kaná-Gwin’s disciplined diet and lifestyle, combined with Mulita’s clean, oxygen-rich atmosphere, is likely what enables them to preserve youthful appearances and sustain long, vigorous lives.”
Hunter looked at the bottle still held in his hand, somewhat disappointed in Tech’s explanation. If there was ever a possibility of slowing their own advanced age progression, he would fully support getting more, and do whatever he could to make it available to fellow clones. But this – it definitely seemed too good to be true.
“Well, that’s too bad. Not sure it was worth risking our lives over,” Hunter said. “But at least someone wants to pay big credits for it. Job security, I guess.”
Ada sat out of the way but listened intently to the conversation. She always thought it was remarkable how quickly they recuperated after such intense events. They were able to have conversations as if nothing harrowing had just happened. She wasn’t sure if she was envious of that, or sad for them, knowing they just kept tucking those traumas away.
It wasn’t long before Tech had his major pieces of armor removed and stowed, his blasters cleaned and secured, and felt satisfied with the autopilot situation in the cockpit. He stepped out and his eyes found Ada. She was tucked into a corner, lost in her datapad, her fingers busy fidgeting with her hair.
The warmth inside of him somersaulted then tightened, causing him to reflexively bring his hand up to his chest to soothe the increasingly familiar sensation. He had been thinking about her during a good portion of their excursion, looking forward to getting back to share his observations and the audio and video samples he collected for her.
When they departed on their mission over 8 hours earlier, he recalled the cramped cabin space while everyone was grabbing their supplies and gearing up. The tight chaos made it difficult for everyone to be moving around at once. Tech needed to find a few blaster gas cartridges from storage and had to excuse himself past Ada. Without any forethought, his hand landed on her arm to alert her as he passed. Tech did not touch others willingly, finding physical contact rather uncomfortable. Yet this time, the touch was different, more of an instinctive connection that felt entirely natural, even pleasant. It took all his restraint not to gently squeeze her arm or swipe his thumb across it. Looking down he met her gaze, and for a beat, nothing else in the galaxy existed.
“Excuse me, Ada,” he had managed to mutter out. He finally dropped his hand from her arm, and continued towards the storage, his mind wholly distracted. But the feel of her – her softness, her warmth – remained on his hand for the rest of the day.
Ada looked up from her reading and smiled at him. She moved her pack from the floor beside her, indicating he could sit there.
“Your hair is styled differently today,” he said as he settled in next to her and started scanning through the screens on his datapad.
“Oh, ah, yeah. No ponytail today, just a couple barrettes” she said. She wasn’t sure what to think of his comment, but figured it was just a Tech thing to say when he noticed something different.
“…it looks very nice,” he continued, still looking at his datapad.
Oh…
With that, she turned to him with a shy smile. He was still looking at his screen while typing, but stopped when he felt her eyes. From the corner of his eye he looked at her, then finally set the device down and turned to face her.
“Yes?” He asked, finally breaking a smile of his own when he saw hers.
“Thank you,” she said softly. Her cheeks began to blush now that he was smiling back at her.
“I was merely making an observation.”
“An observation that was approving and subjective in nature. I believe that qualifies as a compliment,” she teased. “Thank you, again.”
Their twinkling eyes locked for a moment before Tech gave in and changed the subject.
“I– ah”, he cleared his throat and began searching his datapad once again, “I have obtained some recording samples of an unfamiliar flying ornithoid species. My quick research in the field identified them as blue razorback skirms. Are you familiar?”
“Blue razorbacks? Yeah, I’ve read about them and knew they were native to Mulita, but have never seen them before. You guys must have been in some old growth forest habitat?”
“Yes, precisely. The forest ecosystem we traveled through was untouched, and the enormous trees were estimated to be centuries old.”
“Amazing. I wish I could have seen it,” she pined.
“I’m sorry you were not able to join us,” he said regretfully, looking at her again from his peripheral. “However, I had an opportunity to record their behaviors and collected six holo-videos and four audio recordings that I believe you will appreciate. Here, watch this.”
He handed her his datapad and she leaned closer to him so they could view it together.
She watched intently. “Wow, Tech, you got so close!” Ada’s voice practically vibrated with excitement. “The male’s coloration is stunning. You can really see the evolutionary trade-off here, his vivid blue against the female’s duller, cryptic camouflage for the nest. It’s a classic example of sexual dimorphism.”
“Mm-hmm,” Tech hummed in spellbound affirmation. He found himself watching her instead of the holo-video. Her excitement over the recordings he took for her made him feel the ache in his chest once again. His heart rate increased listening to her enthusiasm.
She leaned in, mesmerized. “I’ve read that she’ll stay on those eggs for a month straight during incubation. But he’s a devoted partner – they mate for life, you know, which is why the sexual dimorphism coloration is rather unusual in this situation. Anyway, he ensures she’s fed and kept dry and protected until the eggs hatch. It’s actually quite a complex process. I have read that they have this beautiful pair-bonding ritual, too. They’ll stretch out their wings and touch their heads together, vocalizing a soft, low purr. It’s incredible you captured this female on the nest.”
When she heard Ada’s voice raise with excitement, Omega looked over to the two of them from across the small cabin, seeing their faces catching the faint flicker from the glowing screen as they conversed. She elbowed Wrecker who was next to her, and jerked her head in their direction.
“Not so often you see the roles reversed like that, where someone is talking Tech’s ear off,” he quietly commented to Omega, a half smirk on his face.
“Yeah, but the difference is Tech seems to be enjoying her endless chattering. Look at the way he’s looking at her – I’m fairly certain I can see little hearts swirling around his head,” she joked back to Wrecker.
“Both the male and female take equal responsibility in feeding and raising the hatchlings into fledglings. This species is incredibly–” Ada’s enthusiastic monologue was cut short when Tech reached to the device and began a different holo-video focused on the pair-bonding ritual, something that she had only read about in peer reviewed journal articles. “Oh…” she trailed off as she began watching.
Tech and Ada sat silently as they watched the elegant demonstration of love between the two creatures. She felt a little tug of envy watching the razorbacks on the screen, noticing the ferocity of their bond and the way they risked everything for the sake of their family. She ached for a similar version of life, where someone looked at her with that same unwavering devotion.
Tech analyzed his physical reactions and how they corresponded to his thoughts and surroundings, like the way his breath hitched and his heart raced when he observed Ada’s response to his recordings. Or the sudden, unfamiliar urge to reach out and touch her with his hand, or brush her hair from her shoulder. He glanced over at her once again, and could see the glassiness of her emotional eyes reflecting the soft light from the screen.
“I hope these holo-videos are satisfactory,” he said a little nervously.
Ada looked at him. “Are you kidding me, Tech? Satisfactory? More like incredible. Almost as good as being there. Thank you so much for sharing your samples with me.”
“I collected them for you,” he said, finally looking back at the screen to avoid the uncomfortable eye contact.
She remained focused on him as a flood of realizations came over her. Ada felt, in that moment, that that glowing ember inside finally burst into lambent flames. She could feel the warmth up to her face, up the back of her neck and down her spine, through her arms and legs. There was no turning back, it was impossible to snuff it out now. She knew she was falling and chose to hang on tightly, because nothing had ever felt so right.
The holo-video was still playing, and right before it ended they could hear Hunter’s irritated voice in the background, “C’mon, Tech! We need to keep moving! We don't have time for this right now.”
Ada's focus on Tech shifted when she heard this and she busted out laughing. “I’m sorry Hunter didn’t appreciate the blue razorback skirms as much as you!”
“His interests don't fall within the subjects of skirm ecology, nesting success factors, or breeding and mate selection dynamics,” Tech responded, which made Ada giggle even harder.
“He doesn’t know what he’s missing,” she managed to say through her laughter.
For the remaining nine days that Ada traveled with the Bad Batch, she and Tech had many more similar conversations – not necessarily similar in topic, but similar in nature.
Tech was learning a great deal about her, but he was learning far more about himself. He was trying to interpret it all, the meaning of the turbulence within him, and found it quite satisfying deciphering his own internal data. Everything that had once felt forced or awkward felt effortless with Ada. With her, words were optional and the silence was never heavy, yet the conversations were natural and gratifying. Still, something more, something restless, urged him to want to give more of himself to her. More of his attention, steadfast support, protection, deeper loyalty? Maybe more recordings? He could give her so many more recordings! He figured it was all of that and more, but couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
Was this it, then? Companionship, affection, devotion …love? If this is what they meant, he was finally starting to understand the appeal. He could get used to this. During his examination of his feelings, they began shifting from abstract concepts to physical desires. He began to wonder more about the weight of her in his arms, or what the crook of her neck smelled like, or about the feeling of her breath on his skin. The more honest he was with himself during this examination, the more he realized how much he really wanted.
The only problem was none of this made any difference unless she felt similarly towards him. How does he know? Should he ask her? Could he ask her? The thought of rejection made him cringe and shy away from figuring it out just yet. Although, he didn’t have much time. They would be making their way back to Tatooine within the next few days to drop her off, ultimately ending his chance of ever knowing. Or would it? He eventually decided to himself that he would need to see her again somehow.
Ada, on the other hand, didn’t require quite so much self examination to understand her incredible attraction to this man. She felt it grow continuously, every time he paid attention to her, listened to her, complimented her, or just looked at her. She knew she was falling for him, taking giant leaps from wanting to talk more to him to wanting to feel herself against his body with his mouth all over her. She had a hard time reading him, though, and was constantly questioning if what she sensed back from him was only false hope.
Both existed in a state of parallel longing, drawing closer but never daring to intersect. They were gripped by the same self-fabricated fear, which was the possibility of rejection, leaving them exposed and humiliated.
While Ada enjoyed her heart-swelling high during her time with Tech on the Marauder, the dark undercurrent of saying goodbye to each other was becoming more and more prevalent. Tech was able to subdue this fear with his unwavering intentions of seeing her again soon. But Ada was more pragmatic, understanding that the clone’s duty and obligations were far more important than revisiting a stray they had picked up along the way. Only time would tell, and neither would be able to comprehend what a wild expedition was in store for them.