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“Deck E radar repairs complete,” Thanisson announces, fingers tapping across his data screen. “Deck E, Sector Four security feed currently undergoing reconfiguration. Estimated runtime is one hour. Security personnel has been informed that there will be no surveillance footage from that sector for the duration.”
Unamo nods, “Very good. And the camera shutdown was fully sanctioned?”
“Yessir. I have the authorisation codes on my screen.”
In Sector Four Techie leans across a console, a sly smile on his face. “See, I told you that would work.” He hoists himself up, long legs dangling from his seat atop the control panel, “I also took the liberty of rerouting the stormtrooper patrols. We’re the only ones in this sector for the next hour. Even the announcement system has been switched off.”
Matt lets out a low whistle, impressed, “Tell me,” he says, stepping between Techie’s spread knees, “why you need the whole sector.” His hands spread up Techie’s thighs as slim arms wrap about his neck.
“Well you know how loud I can get,” Techie’s voice is low and breathy in his ear, one hand already anchored in messy curls.
“Very true.”
A few minutes later and Thanisson finds himself unable to decipher the most recent message coming thorugh the Finalizer’s comm system. Leaning over his shoulder, Unamo seems equally puzzled.
“U r a butt… Where exactly did this message originate?”
“I’m sorry, it seems to have been sent from within the mainframe itself.”
“And the intended recipient?”
Thanisson shrinks a little, “General Hux, I thought it prudent to intervene.”
“Good idea,” Unamo nods, “I don’t think he would appreci-” she is cut off mid sentence by another officer’s frantic wave.
“It seems the munitions sector just ordered 12,000 meilooruns, should I intercept?”
Another shout, “Someone just scheduled naptime for the entire stormtrooper garrison!”
“There’s a picture of a lothcat in a boot downloading itself onto every datapad on board, what should I… awww.”
“This is ridiculous!” Unamo snaps, “Get our data techs on this NOW!” She sweeps a stray hair out of her face and turns to her own datapad, it is displaying a message allegedly from the Supreme Leader, ‘Related to a Skywalker? It’s more likely than you think.’ Swiping the message away only allows three more to take its place.
***5 Telltale Signs Your Droid is a Resistance Spy***
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~Anonymous Trooper Tales: Saucy Secrets from the First Order’s Finest.~
The door slides open and Unamo snaps upright as Captain Phasma strides into the control room. Her voice is clipped, tone icy beneath the layer of vocoding. “Can someone explain why I have been relocated to an Imperial base that was destroyed 36 years ago?”
“I’m sorry, there seems to be something wrong with the entire system,” Unamo instinctively shrinks, “You don’t think it’s a resistance virus do you?”
A low rumble fills the air, soft and rhythmic and Thanisson jumps to his feet, “What the hell is that!”
Phasma has taken control of a console now, “It seems the shipwide broadcast system has been synced to the General’s datapad, I think his cat may be sleeping on it.”
“Umm… it’s not just audio,” Unamo murmurs, pointing towards the nearest screen. The security feed is obscured by a mass of fur that rises and falls in time with the purrs still filling the ship. It’s almost soothing.
At least until the cat moves.
The corner of the screen is suddenly filled with the image of an extremely well muscled bare ass dotted with moles. “Oh kriff,” Unamo breathes out.
“Come back to bed, baby,” echoes a deep voice that is most definitely not the General.
“I swear Ren, you are insatiable,” says another voice, and yes, that is definitely Hux. Unamo and Thanisson exchange glances, not sure how they can avert what is about to happen.
“You know you love i-” The feed cuts off with a burst of static that has everyone covering their ears before being suddenly replaced by an old holovid of a cantina band.
As the jaunty tune fills the air Thanisson receives another message on his personal comm.
‘u suck’
*****
The air in Sector 4 is warm and humid, tinged with the smell of sweat and sex. Matt’s nose is buried in the damp strands of Techie’s hair, his breathing just starting to shudder back to normal.
“Mmm, you’re right. That was so good.” He brushes his lips across trembling skin, soothing the marks made by his own mouth. “You know how much I love hearing you let go.”
Techie slides down from the computer control panel and flops against Matt’s chest, his legs barely able to hold him up. He shimmies the yellow jumpsuit over his hips and stuffs his underwear into a pocket, too lazy to put it back on. He feels Matt’s thumb stroke across his cheek as he dips in for a long slow kiss.
Techie’s eyes shutter as they pull apart, breathless.
“And the best part is, no one will ever know.”